I got a text message yesterday morning, that read:
“You are going to crack up when you see the cover of the daily!”
My first thought was, Oh, no this cannot be good. Especially since there were many pictures of me taken like this…
And then I opened an email that read:
“I think they really captured the moment for you on today’s daily cover. Nice work in your first ever PPP!”
So, I had even though I wasn’t hungry and didn’t require coffee, I went to the café downstairs, ordered breakfast and picked up a newspaper.
I. could. not. stop. laughing…
Yep. I’m the girl on the left… in the tights… and the tutu… who can’t get her drytop off. Hilarious. It just affirms what friends are calling me: An Endearing Junk Show. [“shit show” actually… colleen’s words… but we’ll try to keep it PG-13.]
And yes, I love it. I take no pride in being the clumsiest friend, the biggest mess, but it happens… I’ve come to terms with it.
I trip and fall after traveling states to run one race: i was from portland.
I fall off skin tracks and into snowbanks: glorious embarrassment.
Once, while driving around garage sale hunting with a group of friends in college, I smacked my head into the driver’s side window because I got excited and whipped my head around because thought I saw a neon posterboard sign for a sale. It hurt so bad… and was so embarrassing… I still hear about that.
So it was totally fitting when my friend, Andy, posted this video on my Facebook wall with the caption…
“Rachel Stevens. Age 6.”
I cannot get over it! So precious. So perfect. I feel like that little girl so many times in life… in so many circumstances.
And I’m pretty sure there’s even a video of me somewhere from when I was around this age in ballet class where I just shrugged my shoulders on stage when I was supposed to be dancing. Mom? Dad? Is this true? Do we have that video?
I love it.
I’m going to go watch that precious video again.
wull hay. 
Yes, I remember you on that big stage in your little tutu (I believe it was yellow) looking side to side trying to follow along. And then putting your hands up like, “what the heck!” We had rushed back from our South Dakota vacation minutes before your big ballet recital. Probably should have skipped it but you were all about getting dressed up and wearing that tutu even though you had forgotten all the steps and danced along clueless. Priceless.