Act One
On Monday, it was raining outside so I wore my rain boots to school. Because of the rain, the stairs were slippery. While walking down the stairs to class, I slipped and fell down about 6 steps. And it hurt. Alot.
I thought, maybe these rain-boots should have better traction; they are rainboots, after all.
After I "landed" at the bottom, what I wanted to do was sit there and cry, and check for broken bones. However, two people behind me saw it all, and were all like: "Are you Ok!"
Crying with an audience sucks more than falling down the stairs. So I had to get up. Ugg.
Then, the dude behind me was all: "I always say, its better to go slowly down the stairs and be late to class than to fall."
If I hadn't been working so hard to hold back tears and to get up off the stairs, I would have said something really sassy to him and called him an a**hole. Because, really, he was/is one.
The girl told him that probably that was my policy, too, and that no one intentionally falls down the stairs. Oh, you think.
Act 2
Then, I spent all afternoon feeling sad that there was no one to show what was sure to be an awesome bruise.
The next morning, the bruise was totally gnarly, as expected, so I refused to let this opportunity pass. While doing a little photo "seating" for my butt, I took some time to notice how nice it was. We never think to look at our own butts, but we should, especially while we are still young.
Despite the urgings of P, I am not going to publish photos of my butt here.
However, I would like you all to take a moment to remember the scene in the 1998 World Cup when the French Goalkeeper was injured and they exposed his butt to spray some sort of liquid bandage on it. That was really a great butt. I've been mediating on that image throughout my own trials. Its helped.
Act 3
I went running and it really hurt to run, because of the giggling of my bruise. But, the alternative was to go home and study, I pushed past the pain in my bruised bum and ran on. Then I woke up the next morning and could barely walk. Apparently, while "compensating" for the bruise I strained my inner thighs.
Ain't them the brakes!
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2 comments:
"The girl told him that probably that was my policy, too, and that no one intentionally falls down the stairs. Oh, you think."
You are such a good blogger.
Also, this reminds me of middle school, as falling down the stairs was an ever-present threat in the overcrowded stairwells of Lanier, and it seemed like it was always happening to some awkward kid.
Also, this reminds me of a story you told me about how you fell down some stairs at UT when you were a sophomore in college.
hmmm
Yeah, I was a freshman, and I had just had a really bad experience with the inept advising office. Then I cried all the way to my dorm room where I watched the episode of Dawson's Creek when Joey and Pacy hook up, even though I had seen it the night before.
Remember when I used to tape everything on tv and mail it to Holland because all you had there in english was reruns of Felicity?
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