Friday, September 28, 2007

Did I do that...again?

I got tagged by Chrissy. I'm supposed to tell you 8 random facts about myself. I'm supposed to post the rules. I supposed to pass it along to 8 others. I suppose I like to change things up a bit.

I did something stupid on Wednesday - hurt myself and ended up going to a doctor yesterday to make sure nothing was broken. Unfortunately, it's not the first time - and probably won't be the last - when I've ended up in pain due to...ME. So, I'm changing the meme to a list of stupid things I've done - to myself - which have resulted in pain. Lots of pain.

1. When I was little, my future neighbors started construction on the lot next to our home. I had just learned to ride my bike and wanted to impress the construction workers. (May I point out here that my injury was the result of me trying to impress guys, albeit construction workers. Note how stupid I get when a male is present.) Picture me, this little girl proudly riding her large, banana seat bike in figure eight's to capture the attention - and hearts - of the muscular, sweaty workers when BAM!! I hit an invisible rock and fell right on my face. Sure my hands hurt from how I'd landed but the bruising my ego took was unbearable. I ran into the house and didn't bike until the house construction was complete.

2. TheDeanInc and I were practicing our sweet biking skills one day. This consisted of jumping the curb, balancing for a second, then hopping off the curb. He was pretty good and I wanted to be like him. (Although I'm trying to impress a boy, this one doesn't count since it's my brother and that would just be gross!) After watching him successfully complete the trick, I attempted. Mine went something like this: Hop curb, grab handle bars as they fly out of hands, turn handle bars away from approaching mailbox, lean towards grass for soft landing, hop off curb suddenly, fly forward, land chin onto pavement, scream, head to emergency room, get stitches. Needless to say, TheDeanInc has sweet curb hopping skills but I have a cool scar!

3. In 7th grade I fell in love...with my Social Studies teacher. (Again ~ guys make me dumb!) He was tall, dark, and handsome. Of course, I was short, white, and illegal. This still didn't stop me from running home on the first day of class to tell Mama Mia about the new teacher. In an effort to accurately portray his height, I stood on my baby sister's booster chair. After reaching as high as I could to say, "He's this tall," my thoughts apparently were centered only on him instead of the law of gravity. I quickly was reminded as I fell and snapped my arm backwards. Too many hours later, I was home from the emergency room with a cast on my now broken arm. The next day of class, Mr. Dreamy asked what had happened. Again I turned stupid and said, "I fell off a booster chair." Um, a 7th grader still using a booster chair? I suppose that relationship was doomed before it started.

4. My freshman year of college I started hanging out with a guy from California. (Yet another guy who would see me turn stupid). He was so cool. I wanted to be so cool too. He rode a longboard to class. Suddenly I felt a huge need to longboard to class too. Never mind the fact that I'd never seen or been on a longboard before in my life. In an attempt to talk to him more, I asked if he would teach me how to longboard. In his uber coolness, as could only be indicated by his one word California response, he uttered, "Totally!" Lesson 1 was balancing on the board. Cool California Guy ran and jumped on the board and glided toward me. My attempt was a little less graceful. I walked toward the board, put one foot on, lifted my other foot and fell flat on my butt. Actually, flat on my wrist. Lesson 1, which was as far as I got, ended with me at the doctor's office getting a splint on my sprained wrist.

5. This one could count for two (unfortunately). Sophomore year of college, my apartment of 4 girls became best friends with an apartment of 4 guys. (Guys: here I go with that stupid thing again). They invited our apartment to go rope swinging. I wasn't too sure I wanted to go but went with the notion that I didn't have to jump if I didn't want to. I watched each of the guys jump and even two of my roommates. They made it look easy. You climb the tree, grab the rope, jump out away from the tree, swing like Tarzan, and land in the water before the rope returns to the shore. After much convincing, I decided to go. I grabbed the rope and jumped. Everything was in slow motion. Yet too fast to correct. I hadn't leaped out from the tree far enough to clear the bank. This would have been fine if I had grabbed the rope a mere 5 inches higher. Alas, my feet hit the ground and dragged before I landed in the water. Since the creek was full of melted snow from the mountain, my whole body tingled in the frigid water. I was numb long enough to walk back to the car without pain. Once home, I realized I couldn't walk. Another trip to the doctor informed me I had sprained both ankles. Tip for the day: Don't sprain both ankles at once. It's incredibly hard to get anywhere!

6. My junior year of college included yet another trip to the emergency room. One afternoon, a group of us were bored in the apartment. Bored = trouble. We were discussing fights we'd been in at school growing up. I mentioned I'd always been too scared to fight back any bullies who pestered me. In an attempt to teach me better defense skills, my roommate ordered me to get in a fighting stance. She was going to walk me through a proper fight. We crouched ready to pounce. We stared at each other and started laughing. Then I lunged. She lunged back. We collided. We fell. My leg popped. A trip to the hospital, a dose of medicine (that made me hit on every male nurse around), a cast, and some crutches, my broken leg adventure had begun. Needless to say, I'm still not very good at fighting.

7. One day in college I was late for class. I jumped on my bike and raced down the street. I heard a clickityclickityclickity noise in rhythm to my speed. I slowed down: click ety click ety click ety. I slowed more: cl i ck et y cl i ck et y cl i ck et y. Obviously something was catching and, with each cycle of the wheel, making a clicking noise. I looked down at the gears. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary; my shoelaces were tied and my pants were pegged so as not to catch on the gear teeth. I pedaled once. Clickety. Where was it coming from?! I looked up JUST IN TIME to see the parked car 'jump' out in front of my bike. My bike stopped as I continued forward. I landed on my face looking the opposite direction. I never found the source of that clicking noise either. (Okay, so that one didn't involve a guy and I didn't need to go to the hospital. It still hurt okay!)
8. Wednesday, September 26, 2007: I was meeting some friends at 6:30 and knew I'd probably have some spare time. Already in my car, I raced back into the house to grab a book for my wait. As I ran in, I noticed Julia Gulia at the computer with a perplexed expression. Trying to determine if she was okay, I momentarily forgot my hand was still on the door and slammed it shut. My first response was laughter, as in, "Did I seriously just do that?!" The immediate swelling indicated I actually had. I did meet up with my friends later only I wasn't carrying a book. My new accessory was an icepack for my hand. The doctor put me at ease by saying it is only a deep tissue bruise. He also suggested I elevate my hand to decrease the swelling. This means I walk around like I have a question, want to give you a High 5, or play one handed pattycake.

So there you have it. Eight stupid events in my life that have resulted in pain. I'm either really clumsy or a masochist. Neither one sounds too appealing. Oh well. High 5!

9 comments:

ThomCarter said...

At least you have the Beauty part of "Grace and Beauty".

High Five from your clumsy, 9 concussion, friend from the north!

Amanda Mae said...

*facepalm* oh, charlotta... you were obviously put on this earth for a reason, as you keep defying death in humorous ways. :)

thethinker said...

I see a dangerous pattern here.

Maybe you should isolate yourself from guys.

Coordination Queen said...

HAHAHA Thanks for the laugh!

Jocelyn said...

"Short, White, and Illegal"....bwahahahahahaha. Could you change the name of your blog to that?

You have GOT to stop trying to be cool. Too dangerous.

Charles said...

At least you have an excuse for the problems you have had, albeit not a great excuse. What a person will do for love is amazing. I just attract trouble, like bullets, bees, car bumpers, etc. Luckily, I haven't broken anything since I was one year old, just donated blood to various hard objects.
We will have to swap stories the next time you come to Utah.

Michelle Johnson said...

I loved this post at the expense of your pain, nonetheless. I especially liked the story of your broken arm and the booster seat. That was funny. Thanks for sharing this wonderful but, painful post.

Michelle

charlotta-love said...

Thom: 9 concussion? You and I should NEVER hang out together unless properly insured.

Amanda: I am therefore I blog.

Thinker: No guys?! nah, the pain is worth it.

Queen: My pain, your pleasure.

Jocelyn: Well the name doesn't apply anymore... just the "white" part.

Charles: Bullets? Oh my. Remind me to not stand too close!

Michelle: I laugh NOW about the booster seat. It wasn't always funny though. Glad you enjoyed.

Shankar said...

Oh, dear...I am actually wiping away the tears. Just one question: can I buy the movie rights to your life right now? The movie would be such a big hit that if you owned the rights, you'd get a concussion.