...when I fell down at the Byron Nelson yesterday in front of like 50 people. I could blame the margaritas, but sadly didn't have any. I could blame the shoes, but sadly I think it's just me. (Or some sort of inner ear problem I need to get looked at.) My knees are bruised, but not as badly as my ego...it's one of those things that I keep replaying in my head and every time I cringe. Oh the humanity.
So there was literally blood (my knees), sweat (um so very hot), and tears (for some inexplicable reason, Jill couldn't stop tearing up all day). That's the sign of a good time, right? RIGHT?!
IHGB #342: The Tortured Poets Department
2 days ago
At least the wind didn't blow your skirt up, showing your thong to the hoards of b-ball fans on the River Walk. Always a fun memory. Why is it that when that happens we always squeal really loud and then EVERYONE looks??
ReplyDeleteHa - that was happening to Jill all day and I told her the Riverwalk story.
ReplyDelete