Saturday, February 16, 2008

Just call me Grace...

After waking up at the ungodly (for a Saturday) hour of 6:45am and hauling my arse to a rehearsal in Manhattan, I was rewarded by doing very little actual rehearsing and being released at 11am.

As planned, I trekked up to Union Square--finding a new pair of $5 sidewalk sunglasses on the way, hoorah!--to pay a visit to my friends, Wholefoods and Greenmarket. The expedition proved a success and I struck out for home; however, the simplest of tasks are never completed without incident. At least, not in my world.

So I tripped up the steps while exiting the subway.

It should be noted that I fall up the stairs far more often than I fall down them. I'm special like that.

Unfortunately, there were casualties. Namely, an eight-dollar bottle of organic olive oil.




It should be noted that the three-dollar bottle of vinegar remained intact, if a bit greasy.




Thanks to some quick thinking--and my penchant for saving empty salsa jars--the incident was not a total loss...



In the end, I managed to preserve approximately 1/8th of my overpriced olive oil. I'm just grateful I decided against splurging on the $15 bottle. Now that would have pissed me off.

The only question that remains is... how much olive oil do I need to complete my cooking plans for the day?

Keep your fingers crossed.

3 comments:

Z said...

Oh no! I, too, tend to trip up stairs rather than down ... Good luck with your cooking, and hope your salsa-jar oil is enough!!!

Anonymous said...

I read your post on IB. It was very... intriguing. And well written. I liked it a lot.

And I trip up the stairs quite a bit as well. Did it the other day on the way up the stairs to my fiance's house and fell right at the door... right when they opened it. What a nice sight.

And I'm sorry about your olive oil. I woulda gotten mad if it had been the $15 one too. Did you fare well with the cooking?

Brunhilda said...

This is a true story: I once tripped/dropped something/fell/whatever for like the dozenth time in a row and jokingly said, "well, Grace is my middle name!" And it occurred to me, as the words were leaving my mouth that yes, Grace is my middle name. And then I felt both klutzy and stupid.