seriously? ouch

Imagine if you will a few miles of uninterrupted sidewalk stretching along side the SF Bay. Starting at Fisherman's Wharf and continuing all the way to AT&T park and beyond, the path is strewn with cafes, restaurants, pedi-cabs, tourists and locals exercising over their lunch breaks. There's a one-mile segment that I frequent over my own lunch breaks a couple times a week.

On part of my mile, there are obstacles. Or, as I like to think of them, giant concrete stair steps to walk over because it's good for my legs and backside! haha

Anyway, each "stair" is about two-feet high, three-feet across, and two-feet deep. I am tall and have long legs, so it's not a hard step up for me, but it's just enough. Sometimes I even add a little hop up, for kicks. And over the past six months or so, had you been frequenting that same mile with me, you would see a curly-haired girl bobbing up and over these blocks, making the most of her lunch hour during an otherwise sedentary day in an office cubicle. There's an art to hitting the blocks in stride: always ascend on the side closest to the Bay, since they are a *smidge* lower, due to a slant in the sidewalk, and always approach them straight on.

Cue to this past Thursday.

Having successfully navigated my self-made obstacle course to meet AZ for lunch at the Ferry Building, we ate and parted ways just prior to where the blocks re-start for my walk back to work.

AZ crossed the street, I turned, and breaking both of my rules, attempted to not only hop up on the wrong side of the cube, but I went at it from an angle, too.

Did I mention these are made of solid concrete?

I knew as soon as I attempted to get on the block that I was doomed. Bam, bam, bam! I was down. Left thigh, right shin and wrists breaking my fall on the hard-ass concrete. I was back up immediately, even before AZ made it across the street. I called her and was like "Look, I just fell and nobody even stopped!" She was baffled by my Grace, I'm sure. Or probably not. This is par for the course.

I hobbled the 10 minute walk back to the office. No bleeding, no audible snapping of limbs, so I was grateful. Back at work, I made a beeline for the bathroom to asses the damage to my legs. Not. Pretty.

Big hematoma bruise on my left thigh; big shallow bruises and scrapes on the right shin; sore wrists and injured pride. Ice and elevation in order.

Grace strikes again. *sigh*

lack of sens(ory perception)

In my "just waking up" stupor this morning, I managed to cut the webbing of my finger (between my middle & ring fingers) on my right hand . . . with the end of a plastic tube of hair goop.

Go figure.

I just looked back down at it now, and the cut is red and angry! ack.

adventures in klutz

Yesterday, when I got home from work, i walked over to my windows in the living room to read through the mail. I turned suddenly to go get something from the other room and walked straight into my coffee table. I hit my right shin on the corner of the metal and glass table and pitched - hands first - onto the glass table. I thought I was going to crash through the table and slice up my arms, face, head...everything.

But praise the LORD, for I did not crash through! I guess my hands were far enough apart, and mostly over the metal frame of the table, to keep me from crashing through the table.

Today my wrists are *very* sore. I've been icing them. And I have a huge, nasty bruise forming on my leg, along with a cut. It is very sore, too.

*sigh* Madame Grace strikes again.

I know I'm stubborn, but . . .

I'm the woman with the volvo.

Tuesday was rough . . . I'm glad it's over.
Praising the Lord for:
His Mercy
My Volvo automatic locking doors
My Volvo strong-ass windows
My sibling, coworkers and friends for their support and prayers!
(Sibling and I haven't yet told the parents . . . they are under a lot of other stress at the moment. I guess if I end up testifying in court, I'll have to tell them at some point...hmmm.)

Grace

There is just no accounting for how on earth I have made it thus far in my adult life, other than the fact that God has a sense of humor, and likes to humble me...?!

Let me tell you a story . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Driving down O'Farrell, not much traffic, window rolled down, Ozomatli blasting from the speakers, our Heroine finds a metered parking space! This is a Big Deal, as it is after 6pm on a Friday night, which all adds up to free parking. She effortlessly backs into the spot - on the left, no less - in one smooth arc. She leaves the car running so she can finish listening to track 9 as she reapplies her lipstick, tosses her hair, and thinks to herself - "damn, self, but ain't you havin' a goooood hair day.
She climbs out of her car, only momentarily getting the door stuck on the sidewalk - oops - in front of Naan 'n Curry, where three young, handsome gentlemen happen to be dining outside in the cool, Spring night. She throws her cd's in the trunk, locks her car and just as she gets ready to make her way the last couple blocks to her destination, she turns to double check that indeed, her meter does not need to be fed. Satisfied with the meter's hours, she steps away and just as she turns . . . TWACK!!! She walks SMACK into a metal pole - which she swears just came out of nowhere - making contact with the left side of her face. It was a 'no parking 2-6am sign, tilted towards her, instead of being perpendicular to the sidewalk. Right in front of the aforementioned table of men, enjoying their Indian food, she can't help herself - "S*&T!" she turns to them, ripping off her chic aviators, "Am I bleeding or anything??!" The men shake their heads solemnly, looks of disbelief slowing being replaced by the guilty looks of schoolboys trying to repress a laugh during church. "This is SO embarassing," she continues, "but, as long as I'm not bleeding, I guess I'll be okay."
She catches the eye of a Nick Lachey lookalike on the other side of the restaurant's window - he and his date are laughing their asses off. She waves at him, acknowledging the humor of the whole situation - but stops herself just short of taking a bow. "Well - you guys have a GREAT night," she says, turning on her heel (clad in very cute, high-heeled, gold wedge sandals), and heads off, again, towards her destination. She stops in at a corner market, quickly locating a bottle of advil and the coldest Diet Coke she can find in the back of the cold drink case. She pays, hastily rips into the ibuprophen, all the while using the soda as a make-shift ice pack. She leans against a parking meter, Coke against her cheek and eye, and watches the people walk by her. Thankfully, at that moment, the Critical Mass bikers start zooming by by the 100s, and she - as well as the other onlookers - have something else to distract them for a while. She can't help but smile to herself, even giggle a little bit, as one of her father's favorite sayings pops into her head. "Well, Grace, what've you done THIS time?" Grace, indeed . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So, now I sit, ice pack to head, thinking that come tomorrow, I'll probably have a black eye. I only wish I had some sort of COOL reason for having one. However, after retelling my story to Sibling, (who started crying with laughter), I guess I don't need to come up with a better story; this one is funny enough.

red letter day...

I just wacked the bejeezus outta my skull. Ouch. I went to sit in the oh-so-comfy red leather chair when BOOM. Slipped on that luxuoriously slick material and slammed the back of my head into the pointy corner of the lampshade. Which in turn struck the painting behind the chair, which in ITS turn smacked against the wall. Loud enough to send my brother running out to ask what the heck..?

So, ice pack and ibuprofin in hand . . .

I went to see my doctor today. I've been having anxiety attacks over the last month. Three of them, seemingly unprecipitated. Tomorrow morning I'm going to get some blood work done. Sometimes being anemic or having some sort of thyroid issue will be manifested as anxiety. And, just in case it's NOT something physical, but mental, my doctor also wants me to see a shrink I mean, psychiatrist. So, here's to 2007!

But, all is not lost. I can't quite go to sleep yet, so I will watch an episode (or two) of Arrested Development. One of the best. shows. ever. And here's hoping that I don't do anymore damage to myself before I go to bed.