When I was little, my dad always referred to me as an accident looking for a place to happen. It was true; I was a bit of a clutz and I always had hysterical accidental things happen to me. There was the time I attempted to leap onto a stack of chairs in the school cafeteria, and my momentum didn’t stop and I just kept going, landing on the other side of the stack of chairs with the chairs coming tumbling down onto me. My ex-boyfriend was five feet away. There was the time that I mudwrestled in front of the entire school and later realized that my singlet wasn’t covering everything that it should have been covering. And there was the time that I tried out for cheerleading in 6th grade to help a friend out (she wanted to try out but wouldn’t do it by herself) and crashed into the judges’ table as I completed my tumbling sequence (obviously I didn’t make call backs although the crash was the least of my worries). You get the picture, right?
Lately, my ‘accidents’ have been less of a physical nature and more of a just mucking up life nature. On Monday, I pulled on a brand new shirt. At lunch, I dribble minestrone soup on it. Not wanting it to stain, I threw it in the wash and then the dryer on permanent press. I pulled it out after it dried only to discover it no longer fit. Drat!
Then, I ordered books for the Circle de Luz girls to have some fun summer reading (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The House on Mango Street) and some food from Omaha Steaks to be delivered to a friend who needs a break from cooking for a bit. Today, when I opened my wallet, my credit card was MIA. Can’t find it anywhere, so I had to cancel it.
But the biggest my bad of late wasn’t really my bad at all (I promise!). A company booked me to be their diversity speaker this year and asked that I bring books to sell. Well, I bought a bunch of books to bring (a little behind the scenes book business stuff: an author gets a set number of free books right when the book comes out. It’s not usually a lot– maybe 20 or so copies so I am way past having extra books lying around the house and totally had to buy some to sell). And then five days before I was scheduled to speak, they cancelled the event as they are cutting back on extras so as to preserve manpower. Meanwhile, every day, boxes arrive with part of the 60 books I ordered to sell. I am drowning in Hijas books! Actually, baby’s closet is drowning in Hijas books.
And what does a girl do when she’s drowning in her own books? She puts a call out on her blog to let people know that if they would like an autographed copy of Hijas Americanas, I have the hook up. $20 will cover the book and shipping to you, just shoot me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org with Autographed Copy in the memo line and we’ll work out the details.
Here’s to ending the week without mishaps!