91. Awkward much?

Single girl in the city, I won't even pretend to make out every one of us secretly doesn't see ourselves as Miss Carrie Bradshaw herself. I have my own flat, expensive handbags and an unconventional love life. Lovely. The reality, however, reads more like Britcom Miranda Hart. I'm lumpy, possess an even more unconventional love life and absolutely no grace whatsoever.

Yes I'll toy with supposed glamour of extensions, a smoky eye and gin and tonics but I'll also slip on a piece of fried chicken getting off the tube and actually face plant the floor (yes that happened) I'll fall over in a swimming pool and crack my head open, and then slip again in the hospital hours later and require twice as many stitches ( again, all true) A home bikini wax once lead to an allergic reaction, a trip to a&e and a mother literally weeing herself while a 60 year old nurse applied a dressing and tried not to make eye contact.

I got my leg stuck in a bench when I was younger, I had to sit there for nearly an hour because small village life meant no one was really about to help and I watched my leg swell all the while coming up with a cover story - of course I wasn't standing on it... It was a bench from the war, it was lovely.

They had to cut me out of it, so you know, take that history.

Once I tried to climb through the hole in the back of my chair in school, again I got stuck. They had to cut me out of that too.

Give me an audience and I'll give you an injury, think Bambi taking his first steps only this time he's wearing a blindfold. And rollerskates. It's not even a strictly physical dyslexia, awkward situations are drawn to me. Its like a service to the rest of the world, if you never embarrass yourself it's because I'm doing it for you. You're welcome.

Dipping into my bag without looking to give the doe eyed boy in Selfridges my reservation card, I fully placed my contraceptive pill packet in his hand instead. Once I tripped on the curb on Oxford street and knocked into an old lady who got a bit huffy, in my head I was thinking you rude rude cow out loud I said (loudly) "I fell over" and then accidental added "you dick". Once I tripped on the curb on Oxford street and fell directly onto a cyclist knocking him square off his bike.

The shame is I don't even feel that embarrassed these days, hair stuck on someones umbrella while they walk past? Easy. Walking into the glass wall instead of the door? Walk in the park. Once I fell off my bolting horse and got my hands stuck in the reins and had to run around the ménage after this galloping pony in front of everyone, mum said I looked like a circus performer. Another time I electrocuted myself off the electric fence off the mains while everyone watched at the foot of the field. sure I moved at about 2 miles an hour for the rest of the day and smelled, how can I say, smoky, but embarrassed? Mate its water off my back.

Single girl in the city, I won't even pretend to make out every one of us secretly doesn't see ourselves as Miss Carrie Bradshaw herself...who am I kidding Miranda is ten times more fun.