I tend to think that I have pretty good control over my life, but sometimes I just don't know what to do with myself. Like when I fall. On the streets of NYC. On my face. It happened twice this week.

The first time was on Wednesday. I was walking back from the dentist office and I was wearing these boots that have terrible traction. Fine, I'll take the blame for buying them, wearing them. Whatever. So I was walking down a street by Grand Central and I passed the subway entrance too quickly. So I turned my head as I was walking to see that it was indeed the entrance. While I did that, my feet slipped on the concrete (it wasn't even icy there!) and I fell flat on my face, toppled onto the chalkboard that outlined the specials of the day of the cute little deli that I happened to fall next to. My hands were covered in the chalk and I remember a voice saying to me, Are you ok? My bag was still intact, right on my left shoulder. Earbuds to my iPod still in place. Except I was now on the floor. I picked myself back up and walked slowly down the stairs of that subway, pretty much laughing to myself that I just fell for no apparent reason.

The second time was last night. I was meeting my friend for dinner on the Lower East Side, at this cute little Latin place called Boca Chica. I was a little early so I thought I'd take a walk around. I crossed the street as the signal turned and as I stepped onto the curb, my right foot got caught on the step and I toppled forward, hard on my knees, then onto the ground. Scratched up my palms. This time my knees actually hurt. I was in pain. There were plenty of people around. I felt so embarrassed... as I heard someone say, Are you okay? I remember thinking at that moment that the phrase seemed all to familiar. I got up, told the person I was ok, then I continued walking.

I laughed at myself the rest of the way around and back to the restaurant. What is my problem? Why am I falling on my face twice in one week? Not to mention when I fell hard on my butt on New Year's Day going down the icy stairs in front of our apartment. I never fall. So I just didn't know how strange it feels and how uncontrollable the situation is when it does happen.

I have these bruises on my knees today. And they hurt. In a strange way, they remind me that sometimes life is not under my control. Life hurts sometimes. Shows bruising. But I guess I'll keep getting back up, as long as I still can, and keep walking on that concrete, even with the possibility that I might fall sometimes. Or even twice in one week.