My Birthday, My Ass

i have finally gotten around to finishing this post. are you so excited?

well, fine, whatever.


the last few years haven't exactly provided me with the best birthdays.

29 sort of fell in the middle of a series of unfortunate events...though 29 wasn't quite as bad as the previous years, which had included a divorce (26), a funeral (27), and a trip to the emergency room (28).

so as i sit here in the safety of my own apartment (read: not falling down), i will now detail for you the saga of my foot woes (because if *that* doesn't sound enthralling, what does?), which culminated on my birthday two years ago. it was My Greatest Moment of Breezy Elegance.

unless we consider the other My Greatest Moment of Breezy Elegance, which was not on my birthday, but for which i have a photograph of my ass.

i think this is going to be a long post.


so two years ago i went to go see the fireworks with my then-boyfriend, El_G, and, yes, had a few drinks. and before you go and start thinking that my drinking affected my coordination, i'll point out that probably it didn't -- my coordination has issues regardless. the drinking did, however, affect my thinking (which, sure, proved disastrous for my coordination).

see because here's what i thought. i thought, as i got to the top of the stairs of our floor, and saw El_G unlocking our apartment door, that it would be a GREAT idea to be sweet and cute and fun and RUN over to him to hug him. yes! because RUNNING at your boyfriend out of the blue makes all sorts of sense. thank you, $4 beers.

and so, all of four feet away from El_G, i took off running towards him.

but one step into my sudden sprint, my sneaker caught on a bit of uneven carpet and i totally lost my (already inept) balance. and yet, because i was already sort of running, i couldn't just fall. i had to try to recover.

you know? how when you trip as you're walking down the street you can sometimes catch yourself? where it takes a few steps but you regain balance and then are okay?

right, well, that's what i tried to do. because $4 beers make you think this is possible.

because $4 beers allow you to temporarily forget that the hallway is only so long.

so yep. while i was in the middle of trying to recover -- half-hunched over, still in mid-run -- i ran out of hallway and slammed into the wall.

and went through it.

let me say this again. my entire body ran full-speed into the wall which appeared way too early. and because of some stupid physics laws of motion bullshit, slamming into the wall made me stop moving forward.

yes, my elbow had stopped me (by going through the drywall), and the rest of my body, with nowhere else to go, just crumpled.

on top of my foot.

and then poor El_G, who had ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what in god's name his girlfriend was doing, only managed to turn around in time to see the crumpling motion, followed by my gasping for air (since in addition to knocking out part of the wall i'd also managed to knock the wind out of me).

and by the time he was able to ask me what on earth had happened (because it is only right and proper that a boyfriend wonder why his girlfriend would suddenly decide to run headlong into a wall), i had started with the crying.

not a little crying, either. the kind of crying that happens when you are drunk and embarrassed and also in more pain than you've ever been. pain that would not subside. pain that made you wonder if you'd ever walk the same again, because you'd just fallen on the same foot you injured in a freak dating accident.
[sidenote, freak dating accident: several months earlier i had agreed to go on a date with a guy from online. (because we've established that that is what i do.) and after 94 manhattans AND a seemingly endless pitcher of sangria, my big clunky high heel met with uneven sidewalk. and i went down. and this was problematic because i was on a very awkward first date wherein the man expressed interest in marrying me about three drinks in. and so when he helped me up and put me into his car to take me back home, he suggested i consider moving in with him. all i could think was, "DO NOT CRY, IT WILL ONLY MAKE THINGS WORSE."]
and so after a night of agonizing pain, El_G dragged me to the emergency room. and when all was said and done, it was discovered that i had broken nothing, but pulled *every* tendon in my foot. and you might think that sounds better, but the doctor was very somber in explaining that i was actually unfortunate, since breaks heal better and hurt less.

which of course i appreciated.

so to summarize My Greatest Moment of Birthday Breezy Elegance: my last-minute decision to enthusiastically hug my boyfriend resulted in an (expensive) trip to the emergency room and my being able not to put pressure on the foot for SIX weeks, not being able to walk normally for four months, and gaining a ton of immobility weight. which i've since lost, though my right foot is still slightly bigger than my left.

hi? kristy? remember when you said this was actually about your ass? who cares about your big, ugly foot?

oh, right.

so my ass then.

My Other Greatest Moment of Breezy Elegance has nothing to do with my birthday. but is worth telling because of the picture.

four summers ago i was a LOT of fun to be around. i was living in my soon-to-be-ex-house in the soon-to-be-ex-suburbs avoiding my soon-to-be-ex-husband and feeling absolutely miserable.

and so i thought that taking a few days to go visit my sister and her boyfriend would be a great idea. they had just moved to a new, beautiful apartment in boston (complete with guest room), and i thought it would be nice to get to know my sister's apparently-serious boyfriend better.

on one of the days i was there, my SisterHealy had to go off and do something. which meant her BoyfriendBrian and i had to find something to do without her. which meant (duh) heading down to the beer garden*.

and of course i thought, "gosh, this will be nice. i'll get to hang out with brian and learn more about him and we can bond and gee, won't this be swell."

and you know, probably it could've been. swell, i mean. and actually, it even started out okay. but see, me? at that time? complete and utter basketcase. and adding copious amounts of wine? DOES NOT HELP.

in the course of the many hours we were there, i dragged poor Brian through the various and fun stages of my emotional instability, ranging from hating men ("but not YOU, brian!") and not believing in marriage ("but it would be SO GREAT if you married my sister!") and also hating the northeast and EVERYTHING in it ("oh, but um, boston's okay...") to being absolutely completely ecstatic about how really i'm starting the newest and most exciting stage of my life ("everything is really just fabulous, brian, it really is truly is fabulous, it just really, really, is...").

so on the tail end of one of my very long, incoherent explanations of why everything is really fabulous, i had to go to the ladies' room.

located down a flight of stairs.

and i was feeling great. brian (who'd gotten about 4 words in edgewise) was SO GREAT. my life (while completely turned upside down) was going to be SO GREAT. being left by my husband was SO GREAT because of how LIBERATING it was. (for those 15 minutes, anyway.)

so you know how when i was feeling great at the holiday party and thought skipping down the hallway was a good idea?

i decided after 372 glasses of pinot grigio that i would just casually, lightheartedly (because everything was SO GREAT) swing myself down the stairs by the handrails.


so there i was, hands on handrails, SWINGING DOWN THE CONCRETE STAIRS, when -- guess what -- oh yes, my hand slipped and my ass came crashing down onto the edge of one of the stairs.

i was shocked and mortified (no one had seen me), but i was so buzzed i thought it maybe wasn't so bad, though boy was it ever painful.

and when i came back to the table, i tried to explain to poor brian what i'd just done, but he didn't seem to understand the impact it'd made. or perhaps his eyes were just permanently glazed over from my being incapable of shutting up.

anyway, there are two endings to this story.

the first ending is that brian and i eventually went home and my sister was slightly amused by the extent of my drunkenness but mostly not, especially when i threw up all over their guest room.

(by the way? brian? thanks for marrying my sister despite her family.)

the other ending is that the drive back to connecticut was painful. and when i got home, i inspected my ass and discovered THE BIGGEST BRUISE THAT HAS EVER EXISTED. ever. it was enormous and dark and terrifying. it is a wonder that i didn't kill myself (though to this day i can feel a line of scar tissue across my ass).

and so here for you now are the pictures i took with my timed webcam of my breezily elegant ass. please understand that they are in no way photoshopped (because really, you have seen my photoshopping skills), and are also a bit fuzzy since they were taken two days after the fact and by a low-grade webcam.

but still.

*which is what would have happened if we had to find something to do with her, too, but that's not the point.


  1. OUCH! You are a brave woman in the name of blogging to document your butt! You are also a woman after my own heart drinking Manhattans.

  2. I would say I'm laughing my ass off but that might bring up unfortunate memories of breezy elegance for you. ;o) But suffice to say that I did the same thing when bobbing my head up to speak to a friend over a cubicle wall at work and *totally* missing the chair with my butt on the way back down. Came down with a thundering crash. (Mortifying? You bet. And a bruise the size of grapefruit on my left buttcheek.) And, what the heck, I can't even claim that alcohol was involved. Although it got involved later that night while I was moaning about my fanny pains!

    I always enjoy your blog!

  3. O' Kristy ... I had the exact kinda thing happen (sans picture ... what was I thinking?). Disco party, SF, 6 years ago. Walking down the wet, outside stairs I lose my footing and the next thing you know my left elbow is going through the host's bedroom window as my ass hits the stairs (identical bruising action I might add). It is important to note that my paper cup of red wine remained intact ... priorities ya know.

  4. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

  5. Yeah, you're back!!...and in full force! I am "cracking" up over this post. First, I'm just picturing El_G innocently trying to unlock the door as you fly by into and through the wall. That's hilarious! (sorry you got hurt) I had that exact same bruise from, I guess "taking a butt-er" down a flight of stairs. It really freaked me out. That was 20 years ago and there's still this weird dent. Thanks for the laugh. I took work home and this was a nice reprieve.

  6. your butt doesn't even look fat!

  7. I've fallen down too many flights of stairs with too many odd bruises to detail here. But thanks for sharing your stories, and the other commentors for theirs. At least now I know I'm not the only one that falls down the stairs, but perhaps I do fall more frequently.

  8. And thusly, this is *WHY* I no longer drink alcoholic beverages. Cute butt, by the way.

  9. hmmm well, at least it's not a picture of a hand print there! (birthday celebrations and all that)

  10. Hey there,

    Someone directed me to this blog and I've been entertained by it ever make me laugh out loud.


  11. Oh Kristy...I was just laughing my head off with your funny post thinking how glad I was that you are back and then I got to the picture. OH MY GOD GIRL -- how painful that must have been. Damn those stairs!

  12. I had a bruise like that after a car accident. Only on the front of my thigh. Point being I feel the pain and the scar tissue (steering wheel dent in my thigh).

  13. LOL, great descriptive story, I could totally see you running into that wall. I can’t understand why you don’t like the northeast. Just kidding actually I really don’t understand why people do. You must be happy to have turned 30, most people hate turning 30. Just think your birthdays couldn’t get much worse than in your 20’s. Trying to be optimistic here. That ass picture looks painful and the all those weeks of your foot swollen sounded absolutely miserable.

  14. VERY funny story. Well, the way you tell it is funny. As for the bruising, consider yourself lucky. I always hit my head when I fall down stairs (or up stairs, or walking, or getting out of my truck).

    Hmmm...that explains a lot about me I guess.

  15. OYE!!!! I can't talk cuz I can't breathe cuz I can't stop laughing. You the GREATEST!!!!!

    Nice ass, BTW. ;)

  16. Hi K
    I've been reading your blog for awhile and enjoying it. This post is so hilarious I had to break my silence. I agree that you are one brave woman to put a photo of your ass online (though it is very round and perky and nothing to be ashamed of). That bruise is seriously making me cringe.
    Thanks for the laugh today.

  17. i have had a very similar bruise... but i was sober, and it took up my WHOLE ass. i do not have pictures. i was too ashamed to show it to anyone, except my friend brooke, who made that her birthday wish. to see my black and blue ass. she laughed all night long. good to know i can make friends happy. your story has made me laugh. thanks.

  18. you know, living in texas is sometimes crappy, but the only time we pay $4 for a beer is if you go someplace *fancy*. I had to reread your post with "$1 beers" to get a better sense of the kind of story you were telling.

    i had a bruise like that from sitting down on the arm of between two theater seats because i was drunk. which, what?

  19. hee made my afternoon...

    I enjoy your stories so much...keep it up!

    Thank godness you are better at blogging than you are at walking.

  20. You may not have broken your foot, but it sure as hell looks like you broke your ass.

  21. illustrations required.

  22. LOL!! I love you! I have a similar story involving my SF. I decided it would be fun to run up on him and hug him too. In a parking lot. Full of people. He heard me running, stepped to the side...but left his leg out, not thinking that I would keep running. I tripped over said leg and went flying. Landing on my stomach and hands. I hear I actually bounced. Twice. And I was sober. He and my friends spent the next hour giggling.

    Plus? The falling down stairs? At least once a month.

    So. I sympathize and am grateful that there is someone else out there who is breezily elegant!

  23. I think that is the worst bruise I have ever seen. You have real talent!

  24. My worst bruise ever was the result of "may cause easy bruising" steriods (I was being treated for an allergic reaction to a bee sting), a bachelorette party, and a 4 foot high speaker that was just a tad too small for that third girl to dance on. So I took one unfortunate step backwards and the entire inside of my leg ran down the edge of the speaker on the way down. The result? Pure black bruise from my knee all the way up to my nether region, and then back down around the inside of my other thigh. All pure black.

  25. Anon - that had to hurt like hell but I had burst out laughing because I watched that exact same thing happen to an old girlfriend...speaker + one too many girls dancing on it. She also managed to take out a table full of people and drinks on the way down.

  26. I've been there. Same bruise. but multiplied. like a series of small islands and one large one. Well, kind of like Hawaii really.

    yeah. 4$ is way too much to pay for beers. I guess i should count my lucky stars that in WI we can get it for 1$ in many places.

  27. HAHAHA!! Thank you for the laugh. I've been having a horrible weekend/morning and your Blog totally made me laugh. I appreciate it.

  28. I will have to see if I can find and scan a pic of a bruise of equal if not grander scale on the inside of my thigh.

    I think breezy elegance is contagious! YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY
    Again, thanks for the laughs!

  29. Kristy!! Holy fucking hell! My ass hurts for you!

  30. I totally did that swinging down the staircase thing -- only it wasn't my ass that suffered -- i strained every ligament in my right foot... yes, seriously, i did and it was awful! i feel your pain.

  31. Your poor butt - it is almost like me trying to crawl underneath the fitting room door and wacking your hip and having a huge bruise. No that never happened to me.....

  32. I can absolutely sympathize with the stairs incident, as I too have had one of those...complete with the funky horizontal line of scar tissure which reminds me of how clumsy I can really be -

  33. Kristy,
    Love your blog. I didn't know it was coming, but when I read Saturday's entry I knew this was the post I'd been waiting for. I think your blog has really peaked with this one. Hilarious. Thanks for the laughs. The only question is, how are you going to top this?

  34. Tissues!

    Need...tissues...laughing so hard I'm crying (and at work).

    Kristy - you are hilarious.

    I once fell down the freaking steep stairs at my boyfriend's house whilst carrying a casserole...ended up with what I USED to think was the biggest bruise ever - until now.

    So glad to have found your blog.

  35. Huge plus to this entry (once I stopped laughing): You have a great ass! No kidding, girl! That's an awesome picture. Hope no creepies give you trouble for it & kudos to you for sharing!

  36. You are hilarous... found your blog thru craigslist, and this is the first post I've read... and it's hilarous. Good writing/story telling skills.


  37. I thought you were embellishing until I saw "the ass picture". Very, very, funny...not laughing at you, but with you. K, you take the cake!

  38. Nice bum! (even with a bruise)

  39. Isn't it great to have so many of us who share not only your pain, but also similar stories? Mine involves not a bruise, but bare feet, cement garden blocks, and eventually a tetanus shot. I absolutely love your site, Kristy. I obsessively check it for new entries.
    Happy belated birthday!

  40. What a great, entertaining story! I feel a kindred spirit in you- I am notorious for falling down, sober or drunk, it doesn't matter. ;) And I also had a date where I bit the dust. Thakfully, he wasn't proposing marriage or moving in together (that sounds kinda creepy). I really enjoy your blog.

  41. this was AWESOME. i read the entire thing out loud to my boyfriend, which was unfortunate for him because i ruined it somewhat by laughing/snorting/choking through the best parts. seriously. you flying headlong through the wall... ah, the image will be with me forever.

  42. Did you have to sit in one of those blow up donuts? Ouch! It is a funny story though. You're too cute :-)

  43. you're hysterical, as usual, kristy.
    thanks for allowing us the laugh at your expense, although i DO feel your pain. that bruise must have sucked!

    your "breezy elegance" posts are really inspiring.... i'm thinking about illustrating an accumulative account of my own misfortunes, including, but not limited to: total destruction of left knee while infiltrating chic swiss ski-resort and trying to "blend in,"
    various bloody/split/nearly amputated toe-accidents on wooden boardwalks of the italian riviera (definitely breezy elegance....who else has ever had toe-accidents?...several!), various incidents of total annihilation (yup, that would be a full-on "splat") on subway stairs/platforms/you name it, partially torn and veeery pulled ankle tendons due to unfortunate sack-hopping incident in central park and most recently: nasty squirrel bite while trying to share the joy of chocoholism with central parks furry creatures.....
    more to come, i'm sure.
    stay tuned....

    love your blog, as always, kristy.
    stay breezy,

  44. Kristy, I have hidden away somewhere on my computer some shots of my bruised thighs...I didn't fall but rather decided as a fashion and beauty products and services writer that I should be a guinea pig for a new, "miraculous" cellulite treatment. Meaning, some 200 shots in my cottage cheese-textured thighs. Siiigh. It didn't work, I bruised and swelled to two sizes bigger, and when the swelling subsided I went back to usual girth but with odd hard marble-sized and textured deposits just under my skin, and some permanent (albeit lighter) bruising. I am sure I can find the humour in it and when I do, I might write a blog entry about it. Haven't written the article yet...

  45. Kristy, I had a very similar stair-falling experience during my senior year of college, involving lots of beer and VERY icy steps (damn those NH winters). My bruise was kind of the same, but like eight different colors. Very interesting, in a sort of Mr. Wizard/she blinded me with science kind of way. So naturally, I thought it would be the kind of thing that others would like to see-- including the seven year-old I babysat. Whose mother was a dean of the college. I realized later that *perhaps* it was best if I explained to her mother why I had shown little Gracie my ass in the library bathroom. That was a conversation.

  46. That last post was from me. I don't know why is didn't clearly state "MakeOut Kate" as I instructed. Oops.

  47. Kristy, your killing me...But ouch!! That had to of been extremely painful...I'd say about two boxes of box wine every four hours would have killed the pain...The thought of you headlong into the wall will forever be imprinted in my mind...Take care.

  48. You are cracking me up. That was great. Just found your blog and it's killing me. Got to keep those stories coming.

  49. Wow, that is a true bruise. I have seen many bruises in my days. Like back when I was 11, I was hit by a car on my bike, the car was going 4o mph. He hit the bike, but I flew into the air, landed on my tires but then slid under a [arked car scrapping my right knee, elbow, and cheek. (on my face) I didn't think I was hurt tho...I got up and was like: "I'm fine I'm fine" Everyone around me was freaking out in all honesty. They were hallering at me, calling the Police. When they escorted me into the house. They kept saying for me to hold this Huge 1 gallon ziploc bag full of ice to my face. I couldn't figure out why. They brought me a mirror. :-| O' my gah! I had this huge I mean HUGE abrasion on my face. It went from the very tip of the corner of my eye, into a tear drop shape, all the way down to my lip. If I had slid any farther I could have lost my eye.
    I called my parents and they came and got me to take me to the hospital. All the way yelling at me, because ofcourse I was in an area where I wasn't allowed to be at the time.
    I got some x-rays done, nothing was broken, I had my teeth checked nothing missing or chips taken out.
    I was fine...except for the giant hematoma that formed. It eventually went down. I managed to not get a visable scar. But my right cheek is hollow. There is the outside layer of skin, air, and then the inner mouth tissue. I am lucky it wasn't worse.
    I only wish I had a picture to show you. It was swolen out atleast an inch farther than it should have been. It was dark purple and red.
    What a healed pretty quikly though. More than 6 years later you would never know the difference unless you pinch my cheek.

  50. how did you get that big grill mark on an albino ham? are albino hams tasty?

  51. Okay, so I'm reading your archives. I started at the beginning yesterday, and I'm now in July, 2005 -- and I'm horrified but laughing out loud (clutching my stomach!) at your description of running into the wall. I'm horrified, because it was so painful -- but goddam is that funny! You make being clumsy so charming! Also, I'm sorry for laughing.

    When I was dating my ex-husband, we were at Fort Mason, and inside one of the buildings was a separator wall that was short of the ceiling by a coupla, few feet. He was about 5'8", 5'9", and I guess he wanted to impress me or something, so he ran at the wall to hoist himself up, except that (god, I laugh and laugh every time I remember this! And we're still friends, so it's not mean laughter) he didn't get his foot up against the wall. He slammed up against that wall spreadeagled like a cartoon! I'm surprised he didn't slide down like Wile E. Coyote.

    I should call him right now and remind him...

  52. LOL! I'm sorry to laugh in the face of your pain but that is the funniest thing I've seen/heard in a while.

    Ouch is all I have to say.


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