Sunday, August 21, 2011

I have 3 bruises

It seems like as good a topic as any to start a blog on.

#1. We were at the beach and my boyfriend Dino and I were trying to play a game that looked like badminton but had a little rubber ball instead of a birdie. I say "trying" because not only did I fail to return any of the balls he hit to me, but at least 1/4 of the time I failed to hit the ball on my own serve.
Eventually, in what I think was frustration but Dino insists was "an attempt to indicate the end of the game" he hit the ball groundward in my general direction.

Now if I had tried to hit the ball in his ground-area it probably would have gone in the lake or in a small child's eye or somewhere else that would solidify how embarrassing it is to be seen playing sports with me, but Dino actually has normal person aim and it hit me in the leg. Then he accused me of whining when I said it hurt. And then he went back home to New York so he could pretend that it didn't actually turn all purple 3 days later.

Lucky for him I have photobooth, so you can expect an e-guilttrip arriving in your inbox shortly boyfriend. You're welcome.

#2. I was riding my bike on the sidewalk. Which is illegal in my city, but I was doing it because I was on the phone. I think that biking on the phone is probably illegal too but it feels like a valid justification for breaking the first law, and also I was biking really slow which doesn't actually justify anything.

Some lady was out for a midnight walk with her two dogs, and as my bike approached the dogs started barking and leaping maniacally in the air. Naturally I think "These dogs look like they might try to bolt, and I don't want to run over them so I should slow down." Unfortunately when someone's angry dogs DO try and run at you and are successful, suddenly your very slow moving legs are some very slow moving targets.

Now rather than thinking "Jesus, I am being attacked by two dogs, I should bike away," I remained inexplicably concerned about running over the dogs, stopped moving completely, and shouted into the phone, "Help Dino! There are dogs trying to eat me!" He failed to assist me in any way through the phone line (because probably he was playing some space zombie video game and not listening to me anyway) but luckily the owner eventually re-leashed her beasts, apologized so profusely that I felt guilty and told her I was completely fine despite the obvious bite marks on my legs, and then I biked away feeling really stupid. And now I have some cool bite-shaped bruises on both legs. And also maybe rabies.

#3. I ran into a wall. I recognize that trying to bicycle after 4 martinis wasn't my best plan, but some days you just want to take your brother to the local martini drag bar and the bus isn't coming for 16 whole minutes and fuck that, we're riding our bikes. It seemed like a good plan at the time.

The best part is that the wall I ran into belonged to the weird chop-shop in the alley behind my apartment. These dudes watch me bike past pretty much every day and probably make fun of my helmet or my poorly put-together outfits or the fact that I forgot to zip up my backpack or maybe they're actually saying something nice in that language they're speaking that I don't know, but whatever. Now that I ran into their wall they have something real to make fun of me for. And I have a sweet bruise on my knee. Everybody wins.

Upcoming very important topics:
Children at work saying brilliant things
Why the cat who lives in my house is actually a dog
Who the balls invented long-distance relationships
Best of Busventures