Gravity Pulls Especially Hard on Me

It has been too long since my last activity-related accident, so I decided to do this one up big.

The setup is basically this: Gas prices are ridiculous, and we live pretty close to the harbor where our ferry takes off, as you can see from the map below. The red line is if we drive, and the yellow is if we bike. Obviously, biking just makes more sense. I need the exercise anyway.



However, I also need to be able to walk, and apparently the two are at odds.

We woke up a little late on this particular day, and were rushing to make it in time. We ran out the door at 6:15 (we normally have to leave at 6:10 to make it) and went downstairs to get our bikes. I am a slower biker than David, so I thought I'd start out ahead of him, and he could catch up.

So I did, and.. no David



Still no David….

Finally, at the point where we go off property to off-road it, I stopped to wait for him. What the hell was taking so long!?

That was when I saw our car drive past with David in it.

Mother Bitches.

So I'm on my own, and my effort is not even going to save me any gas $ today. So I'm kind of pissed. I start biking, while thinking to myself, he probably has a very good reason to drive. He is probably trying to make it to the boat to tell them to wait for you, and it is your fault anyway for not telling him you were going to go on ahead.

Unfortunately, I'm a girl, so logic does not always actually influence my mind.

So I'm still kind of mad as I go around a turn - and with my newfound rage powering my tiny muscles, inertia and gravity kind of ganged up on me.

I'm going down, and it is going to be ugly. Time to bail. But wait! My foot is encircled with one of those pedal cages to make my bike experience 'more efficient'. So about 1/10 of a millisecond into the fall, I feel the top of my food hit the cage, and I know I'm screwed. My brain gets halfway through a curse word before I actually hit the ground.

It's bad. I'm in pain, all alone, and still far-off and late for the boat. I had a quick moment of extreme self-pity, (cue silent tears) and then got back on the bike and pushed myself to make it on time. Heck, I even beat David who was in the car.

Which means that by the time he finally showed up, the shock had worn off and he was there for the beginning of the hysterics.

It was not a fun boat ride. I was bleeding from my hands, foot, and hip, and I'm not a Big Girl. I'm a Weenie. So all the other patrons had to listen to me moan as we tried to clean out the wound, which was huge, hurt, and was coated in dirt.

It ended up being ridiculously painful. Every time my heart beat for a week and a half, my leg would throb. Standing up was horrible - I could feel all the blood rushing to my damaged nerve endings, searing them with pain. It was just a scrape, so what was up with feeling the need to amputate my leg?! Maybe because the area was so large, there were tons of nerve endings? I shaved off a big piece of leg - the fall was deep enough that it scraped off the layer of skin that my hair grows out of - it is a weirdly bald patch on my leg. Gack. For some reason, that thought grosses me out. Probably bc it happened to me.

Anyway, so I'm crippled again. Some hilarity has ensued, including me running over people in Costco with one of those handicapped electric carts, walking around like a cheesy zombie extra, and a drug overdose (David had some leftover pain pills from his surgery) during Paul's birthday dinner that really whacked me out.

It's been three weeks, and I still look like a burn victim. There goes my modeling career. (Hello Twinkes!) I originally was not going to post a picture, as the wound is kind of high up my leg. However, David insisted, so here it is, as edited as possible to protect your virgin eyes. Although, it doesn't look as bad as it did in person. I feel the need to mention that Paul, who has seen dead bodies, was grossed out. Note the crazy swelling line on my lower leg.

This place is going to turn me into Quasimodo. I was apparently built for indoor-use only.

Oh, and David did have a good reason for leaving me - his bike had a flat.

I hope you enjoyed my re-creation of the accident in Photoshop. I know it looked top-notch.

(Still think I should be a graphic designer, Mom!?)