Grace and gracefulness never guaranteed…
Back in high school, I danced. Eventually, either the teachers tired of my persistence and/or I managed to get good enough to perform with the advanced troop on some occasions. One such moment included being on stage with a live Jazz Band Orchestra. We did a medley that transitioned from 50’s up through the ’80’s. We wore these poodle skirts with pedal pusher pants underneath. We were supposed to rip the skirts off at the transition to Elvis and start bopping. Eight counts into the music, my skirt fell off. (Two minutes before the moment when the music would change). My parents (up in the nosebleed section of the theatre) immediately knew it was me. It did help my friend who always forgot to smile while performing. When I kicked the skirt off the stage and kept dancing, she spent the rest of the number just cracking up.
Mercifully, we only performed one night, so I didn’t have to endure any comments from the orchestra or anyone else, “Oh yes, you’re the girl who lost her skirt eight counts in…” though I know my friend remembers it fondly.
There’s a saying for when you have big moments. “Act like you’ve been there before.” I don’t. Big moments make me freeze up. I gush. I fawn. I also talk too much and worst of all, things like this happen.
Why am I telling this? Because I am a fangirl of Bishop Robert Barron. I own the DVD collection of Catholicism. I read and follow Word on Fire. I’m part of the Facebook Community, and I watch his Youtube videos. He came to DC and I ponied up for the opportunity to go, eat dinner and hear him speak. At the cocktail part of the evening, I spotted him and got in line to introduce myself.
Right as he turned to me, I spilled my entire purse on the floor. He will remember me, but not how I planned. So if I ever meet him again, I’m not going to act like I’ve been there before because I don’t want him to say, “Oh yes, you’re the woman who spilled her purse all over the floor at the Saint John Paul the II Institute.” I’m also holding a glass of red wine, so it’s possible he just thought I enjoyed cocktail hour a little too much. Even better –“Yes, you’re the tipsy one who tipped over her purse.” –I wasn’t but the first impression was probably, “Next please.”
I still got the picture because after all of that, I’m still a fangirl. (Note how I’m clutching the purse with a death grip so it can’t spill again.
However I also know, things come in threes. This one took thirty-seven years to get to number two so I’m just going to pre-emptively let you know, in the year 2056? I’m buying a new purse with a zipper that keeps everything in and making sure whatever I’m wearing, is firmly attached, and I’m doing nothing big.
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