A rose by any other name.....

You may find yourself wondering why I am in fact called Calamity Jane, or CJ for short. You may find yourself wondering, what the hell is she on about, I have never heard her being called that before.
We here at Misadventure land, would like to set the record straight, would like to put it out there, the reason why I am called Calamity Jane, or CJ for short. It has nothing to do with Calamity Jane herself, even though if you ask people, there's a faint whiff of resemblance between us. Maybe its the hair....

But this is what makes me me, a quick (ish) round up of events that have led to the spawnation of CJ:

Tripping over my feet. Not someone elses, but my own actual feet.

Smashing my head on the jamb of the toilet door in 4th class, resulting in stitches.
And some time off school. And a Galaxy Ripple.

Smushing my ankle after jumping off a wall about 2 feet high.

Smushing my other ankle after wearing high shoes to school and falling down the steps.

Breaking all the cups in our house.

Ditto the plates.

Walking into several lamposts.

Being hit over the head with a newspaper by a very angry, very strange man.

Major spillages on the cream carpet.

Kicking a bottle of water on the street only for it to land on the windscreen of someone's car. While they were in it.

Thumping an old lady's leg as I thought it was my brother's leg. Twice. In the same tent. On the same day.

Throwing a bottle of water at a passerby on the street. Purely by accident.

Falling down the stairs banjaxing the heel of my shoe.

Falling down the stairs with a cup of tea ending up all over the walls.

Breaking a wine glass just by looking at it.

Thinking it was a great idea to throw my arm into a sink just as Daddy Howligan was pouring out boiling water. Aged 3. I should have known what lay ahead!

Scalding my hand with boiling water fresh from the kettle. Aged 25.

Upturning a bottle of cider on myself down by the Spanish Arch.

Spilling a champange cocktail at the Electric Picnic before I even had a sip.

Getting another one and spilling it before it was set down.

Setting my mattress on fire. Thought it was a good idea at the time.

Setting a sand dune on fire by mistake. Ran away quickly after that. But don't worry, Ballina's answer to the Beverly Hills 90210 boys came striding across the sand with glistening wet skin from their 24 mile swim off the coast to douse the flames with water.

Slicing the side of my hand open on a broken mirror. Only to be admonished for bleeding all over the wooden floor. Big no no apparently.

Vomiting in a friends house. In the hall. Beside the bin. His parents were behind me.

Smashing my head on the doorway when swinging back around too quickly at work. I have learned my lesson about dramatic exits/entrances. It will end in disaster.

Sending an email tearing someone to shreds, straight to their inbox.

Hitting my head with the Lat Pull Down at the gym.

Spilling my shopping all over the No. 200, then complaining loudly and sarcasticaly that everyone was so kind as to help. Turned around to see someone helping me.

Dropping 5 Red Bull and Vodka's in a row.

Throwing a cigarrette butt out the window only for it to blow back to the back seat and proceed to set fire to some documents.

Throwing a cigarrette butt by mistake whilst pointing at something and having it lodge itself in my cardigan.

Cutting my own hair. 'nuff said.

Running a marathon with little or no training or basic understanding of the human body.

Jumping over a fence of barbed wire after being chased by 15 angry young bulls and getting caught in the wire.

Getting thunked in the head by our "pet" goat Molly. Goats do not like to be annoyed by 3 year olds it seems.

My big toe being stood on by the fat cow (she was literally a cow) Suzy, then her changing position and standing on my other big toe. My nails have never been right since.

Teaching myself to swim in about 4 inches of water in the little stream close to my home. Hard to float when only your stomach is covered.

Tramping through flood ridden fields with wellies, school uniform, and dog in tow.

Losing a shoe in the river beside a friends house.

Punching myself in the neck/face/stomach whilst exercising. Tae Bo is not for beginners.

Attempting to make vanilla ice-cream. With cream, vanilla essence, and a freezer.

Leaving the hair straightener on and covering it with my scarf, seemed so sensible that morning.

Burning my forehead with an iron in an attempt to straighten my hair the old fashioned way.

Burning my eye lid with a curling tongs.

Burning my wrists with an iron (which is funny coz I very rarely iron) prompting a concerned work colleague to ask me if I was ok, was I self harming.

Standing on a fully loaded hair straightener and having 180 degrees of heat clamp down on my foot.

And speaking of feet (nice segue there Laura) running drunkenly up the South Wimbledon Tube escalator and slicing the bottom of my toe along with most of the bottom of my foot on the metal. It bled. I cried.

Getting someone's toothpick lodged in the main vein of my foot. It spread. It bled. I hurt.

Getting stung by some mysterious insect on my arm. It spread.

Skipping out of mass of a Sunday and holding my mother's hand. Only to look up and realise that she wasn't my mother. And she didn't want me to hold her hand.

I'm sure dear reader, that there is more to come, but for now, enjoy x