It finally happened: I fell on the subway steps

A lot of people love to hate “Twilight” star Kristen Stewart, but I’ve always been a fan of hers. She’s not interested in being famous, and she’s also insanely awkward. Just watch her accidentally drop her award below:

Among many other things, if it wasn’t for her, I’d be the clumsiest, most awkward person on earth. We’re kindred spirits in that sense, and I think we’d get along. After a long day on the town this afternoon, I totally ate it on the subway steps. When I was little, my dad used to make fun of me for falling up the stairs, as he’d never seen anyone manage to pull that off before. Well, I did it again today, and I came out of the awful experience with a broken nail, purple bruise on my leg, and red mark on my arm. It had to happen at some point, and it’s no coincidence that I was wearing my terrible Urban Outfitters sandals when the faux pas went down. Those things have been killing me for months. I hate to say it but I’m ready for flip-flop season to pass. I don’t need to worry about stumbling anymore…or having an open wound touch the grotesque surface of the subway station. Bleh.

Other than that misstep (pun intended. You’re welcome), this weekend was perfect. I spent Friday night with my buddy Hillary, who I met in D.C. two years ago. The both of us moved to NYC around the same time, and Friday was her one-year New York anniversary, so we celebrated accordingly. The following evening, I had dinner at Beauty & Essex with my roommate and her friends, all of whom went to my alma mater, by the way. Awesome coincidence. I had grilled cheese dumplings in tomato soup and we all shared a couple of tiny cupcakes. Too small, but very cute.

Today we went to Big Daddy’s, my favorite new diner, and Washington Square Park.

The best part of the chill weekend? Hanging out with accomplished young professionals who never once asked the insanely annoying question, “What do you do?” We all have awesome jobs and love our careers but there’s no buzz kill quite like work talk. So don’t bring that lame sauce my way on the weekends.

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