We used to go to this lake up near Yosemite called Bass Lake each year with my dad. We'd stay in this bare bones cabin for a week and spend the week swimming. It was the best. It was the same every year. Get there, unpack, swim, BBQ, swim some more, sleep, swim, etc. The end of the week would come and we'd slowly pack up and leave, already thinking of the next year.
After a great week at the lake, we were packing to head home. Dad had woken us up early to pack up and clean the cabin before we left. Dad was playing tetris with the boxes in the back of the van, while Lindsay and I lugged all the shit from the cabin. On one of my trips out, I brought a couple of duffel bags and dropped them for dad to grab. The sun was coming out and it was getting warm. So as I turned to head back for another load, I started to take my sweater off and tie it around my waist. As I started pulling my sweater off, I stepped over the duffel bags. About the time the sweater got to my elbows, I got caught on something, lost my balance, twisted and fell in slow motion(isn't it always slow motion). I lay on the ground five feet behind my dad legs tangled in the duffel bags, starting to slide down the hill. Dad was still bent over, head in the van, OCDing about getting everything in the van just so. I have one leg pinned underneath me, somehow tangled up in the the handles of the duffel bag. Both my arms pinned to my side by the stupid sweater that only partially made it off before the fall. I had basically hog tied myself with a sweater and a duffel bag. My dad was completely oblivious to the scene behind him. As I look around trying to figure out how I'm going to get out of this, I look toward the cabin to see my sister standing in the window. She is doubled over, mouth open, belly laughing at me all tied up. Being the loving sister that she is, she eventually came out to help me up. Not before pointing out the situation to dad. Of course dad wanted to know how the hell I had done that amount of tangling in complete silence. I still don't know how I didn't make a peep while falling. However, I will always remember that vulnerable feeling of being tied up in the wilderness while looking at my sister and her evil silent laugh through the window.
In honor of Elia's birthday, I have decided to start a series of blogs about my most ridiculous moments. Because there are many...many. If anything, I am great at making an ass of myself. Of course the moment I decided to write about an embarrassing moment, I had to call my sister for some good stories.
ME: Should I tell them about when I fell down behind dad and he didn't hear and I was stuck until someone noticed?
Lindz: No tell them about when you fell up the stairs in front of the photography class
Me: What about when we were on the cruise and I slipped on the deck they had just washed.
Lindz: What about the time you tripped at the top of the stairs and rode the picture frame down them
Then I had to call a friend for more stories...
Tracy: What about the time you were taking photos on the side of the road and slipped down the embankment and all the cars kept driving by and staring?
Me: What about when I flipped over in that stupid papazon chair you had and got that potato burn on my knee
Tracy: Oh the potato burn...I love that one. But what about the time you tripped on the stairs at school and slide down them on your knees. I'm still impressed that you stuck the landing at the bottom like a real gymnast.
Me: Yeah that was a good one.
etc, etc...So, We'll see where this goes. I definitely think I have a lot of stories here. Feel free to chime in on any you remember...