Klutzy in Cali

As promised, I am about to let you in on one of my more embarrassing moments in the history of Whitney. It certainly is not the first and unfortunately will not be the last. It has not been all rainbows, dolphins, and smooth sailing here in California. I believe there is some sort of voo-doo/urban legend saying that bad things come in threes and thankfully I have recently ran into my third “bad luck” event. However, today’s blog is about the 2nd horrible/no-good/rotten/embarrassing thing that ever so graciously went down (foreshadowing see I do remember some things from high school literature)

Previously on Whit Went West I discussed my super cool, do-these-jobs-actually-exist? job as a personal assistant at a local boutique winery in central California. (for purposes such as job security and adult responsibility I am going to leave out the name and such. ALSO definition) And the job is grand! I have been able to learn so-so much about the fascinating world of wine. Not to mention I work with a rock-star group of Y.Ps (young professionals) who have taken me in as their own east coast baby! I started working at the winery on August 4th, little did I know I had just jumped on board at the craziest/busiest time for wineries, especially ours. Not only was harvest rapidly approaching, but our annual harvest celebration/Polo match fundraiser was less than 3 weeks away. With a guest list of 500+ (celebrities included), an auction with over 80 items/vacations, and under a month left to get it all organized - You could say I was thrown to the wolves with this project. I was brand new to the winery team and especially new to event coordinating on the large scale. There was SO much left to do, and the days were passing by rapidly. Our team of 5 staff members spent almost every day in the office until 7,8, sometimes 9pm to ensure that this event went off without a hitch. I had been closely working with the silent auction items and by the day of the event these items were my babies. I felt a love for these donations, explanations, visuals, and bid sheets stronger than any maternal instinct I have yet to experience.

Somehow we all survived the planning and finally it was the DAY OF, the event was here and I was so thrilled to see it all come together! The entire staff (approximately 10 young guns and a few seasoned vets) met at 7am in the bright hot sun and set up the SHIT out of that party. It looked absolutely phenomenal, a true evening for stars, and so it would be! Guests were scheduled to begin arriving at 3pm , at this time the staff was all sunburnt, sweaty, and still in our “work-out” set up clothes! It was a mad-dash to eat, change, freshen up and look presentable in 10 minutes. With the help of dry shampoo(whoever created this, bless your soul), delivery sandwiches, fedora hats, and one huge bathroom - we all successfully were ready for the event to start. Were we the prettiest bunch? - No! but it was go-time. The event was fabulous, and the guests seemed to be having the times of their lives. I, however was realizing that event planning was NOT as glamorous, cutesy, or as easy as J-LO makes it look in The Wedding Planner. I was feeling very “devil wears prada” meets “Armageddon” but with a god damn smile on my face! It was wonderful seeing people actually bidding on all the items I had worked so hard to find, and display. I was getting butterflies in my stomach as the grand LIVE auction approached. We were auctioning off fabulous packages - including but not limited to: a 10 day private yachting trip in Turkey! We had made it half way through the event when tragedy struck - we were OUT of clean wine glasses! As you can imagine as a winery - this is a big-huge problem and Whitney was off to save the day…..

I channeled my old school bus-girl roots and went on the hunt for any and all unoccupied wine glasses. It was my mission to clean these glasses, I WOULD smooth out this minor event blemish! I finally had two full boxes of glasses in need of cleaning and was headed straight for the stairs to reach the kitchen. But but but.. I never made it to the kitchen and as far as I know, neither did the glasses. On my way down the outdoor-tiled stairs I fell and I fell hard. It was definitely the least graceful moment of my entire existence (there has been a lot, there is a reason my mother didn’t let me pour my own drinks from heavy jugs or paint my nails until I was old enough to drive a car) Luckily for the glasses, my elbows and ribcage took the blow of the fall and my baby-soft skin was absolutely destroyed. Not to mention I was burning with shame and embarrassment. Blood was everywhere and I had knocked the wind out of my lungs worse than any other time I had experienced. Within moments I was surrounded by eye-witness guests, my co-workers, and my boss! All of which insisted that I be taken to the hospital via ambulance to get stitches and x-rays of my ribcages. I was MORTIFIED, all my hard work and I was going to be taken away on a stretcher… and get this.. the valet boys had to move 3 Bentleys to make room for the incoming ambulance (People who own bentleys do not seem to care about emergent situations as they seemed irritated by the whole ordeal) it was horrible.

Luckily, the most damaged thing in the whole incident was my ego. I spent three hours at the Santa Barbara Cottage hospital (my first visit as a California resident) to ponder how I deserved such bad luck. I left the hospital reassuring myself that this was in fact something I would laugh about, and who knew I would be laughing this soon.