I'm glad Heather's doing this today, because I was out of writing ideas!
I went to school at BYU-Idaho in Rexburg. Known for it's ice and red rock. I fell twice while I was going to school up there. And neither one of those falls had anything to do with ice and everything to do with my clumsiness. (Is that even a word?) They both also had to do with stairs. But don't worry. We're not talking flights of stairs (although I've done that plenty of times too. Maybe I should clarify. These are the two times that I fell ON CAMPUS. Not while I lived there. That is a whole 'nother story!)
Anyway, the first time I fell I was walking along with my roommate and at the time, my fiance. We were walking next to the building so as to avoid the melting puddles of snow. This put us in the path of a small porch-like set of stairs that we had to walk over. I tripped and fell. I scuffed my almost new shoes and twisted my ankle. My husband still teases me that I was more upset about ruining my shoes than I was about hurting my ankle. (What can I say? The ankle healed. The shoes did not.) It was one of the prouder moments of my life.
The second time I was coming out of a building. The Smith, to be exact. I walked out the door, tripped and fell down 2 stairs. This resulted in a hole in the knee of my pants and a scraped knee. Problem: I was wearing borrowed maternity pants at the time. Which I then had to replace. Only blessing: I am relatively certain that no one saw me fall.