Two and half stars

I feel okay enough to write about inane stuff now.

Yesterday at Big & Tiny's house, I got a nasty sliver in my right heel. That evening I dropped my iPod on my right foot, corner down. More painful than it sounds! Then this morning, blearily stumbling up the stairs with a bowl of cereal, I missed a riser and slammed my right toes into the stairs, and dropped some cereal but not a lot.
24 hours. 3 injuries. 1 foot.

BiebzBear's family has two cats. One of them has 3 legs and she is very nice and very tolerant. The other cat is very pretty and she knows it. She is the only cat who loves herself even more than Rhett loves himself. She likes to put her face in my mouth and also to sit in the way until you pet her, and then she flips out when you pet her marvelous fabulous fur. She has extremely sharp claws and is extremely fierce and extremely angry. I tried to move her tail out of my way a few minutes ago and she clawed the crap out of my hands. This is a good story.

speaking of, I'd like to say that BabyBiebzBear is growing out of his jackass phase, but I'm not sure that is the case. He is a handful. He likes to try to beat me up. I told him that there will be a day that he will be able to beat me up, and if he really wants, he can come and find me in 15 years and try. Right now, I am still able to pin his arms down or pick him up or whatever, so I will always win the fight that he thinks is so very important. Though he is 30 pounds, at 15 months, so... I will not be able to pick him up in order to win the fight very much longer.

A Man Among Boys

It's a great day. Not only did I wake up because of an awesome storm, I woke up with enough time to get coffee before work! which was great. Also, I got great news from one of my baby mamas. Stellina was in a great mood because she had slept for 13 hours. Also, our air conditioning is working again, which is great. And I just downloaded this great new app that makes you do math before the alarm will turn off, so it's supposed to be real great for awful awful wake-up times, which is every wake-up time ever.

I would go to the bike shop and order new pedals because I HATE the pedals I have now, they keep stabbing me and I keep almost dying trying to get them upright because they don't have tabs. I ran into a curb during such an attempt yesterday, fell, and skinned my ankle? that's possible? So now all the skin on a patch of my right ankle is gone and I have 7 (seven!) gashes on my calves, and yeah I look mega hardxcore but, really, I'd rather have better pedals, ones without stabby bits even though the stabby bits are good for when it is raining. But I don't have any money! So that is not a thing I will do today. Which is a great day!

This blog is about my injuries more than I would like it to be.

He's confessing his undying like for me

Strasburg delivers! 14 strikeouts, every single member of the Pirates' starting line-up, in 90ish pitches. I'm glad I didn't buy his jersey in vain. Well.... so far. Chickens still have some hatchin' to do, but it looks like we're off to a good start.

I took a stinging nettle to my right heel yesterday evening, just where the scar is from my slice-on-the-bed incident. Let me inform you, that plant lives up to its name. It should be called "omg don't ever accidentally briefly touch this plant just trust me don't do it stay awayyyyyy" - that would be even more accurate.

I suddenly feel like I have started something in the middle and am struggling to figure out what the hell is going on so I can try to catch up, and in the meantime, I'm just faking it and hoping eventually it will turn out real. As though me trying to learn how to ride my new bike, clipless pedals and all, is a giant metaphor for my life. I get going for a couple blocks or so, and I know I look like a total badass on my sweet retro road bike, and I feel like I know what I'm doing and I look like I know what I'm doing, and then I get to an intersection, and have to stumble off in an undignified and sometimes painful fashion and walk for a few blocks, until there aren't many people to see me try and awkwardly get back on and get started again.

I haven't been good at bikes in a loooong time, if I ever was. I have a very clear memory of remembering to brake at the last minute and stopping with my front wheel an inch away from falling in the duck pond at Westmoreland Park, just when I had recently gotten to a point where I felt a mastery of no training wheels. I was ... nine? ten? Only now, a decade and some odd later, instead of the duck pond, it's traffic, and kids with grandparents, and stone retaining walls, and hot dog carts, and construction workers, and that curb, and trees, and more retaining walls, and I have to remember to relax my grip on the handlebars because I'm holding too tight, but don't relax too much or I'll forget to steer and end up in the duck pond.

Yeah, that Giant Metaphor of my Raleigh Technium TriLite.

My polka-dotted skateboard helmet is securely fastened.

Right Red Ankle

Things that have happened to my right foot in the past year:

July: Slam it in a revolving door. yes.

September: Drop a full container of laundry detergent (pointy top down) on it.

December: Drop a chair on it (walk it off walk it off okay now let's look OH MY GOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY FOOT) - I still have marks.

all the time: stub toes, kick things. only my right foot!!! I notice when I stub my left foot and it is not often.

March 28, noon: Slice open heel on edge of bed. Bleed through two bandaids.

so far.

ETA: we've now succeeded in bleeding through three bandaids, a sock, and a shoe!

ETA II: and now another sock, onto the fourth bandaid. Should I be worried?

March 28, 1:30pm: kick chair, stub toes.

I'm sparing readers the photo of this morning, though I have photos of all of these events.