Fall down, go boom!

I have a tendency to think of myself as a bit of a klutz. I walk into tables, I knock things over, I trip over things. Yesterday afternoon, however, I entered a whole new realm of klutziness.

I was carrying a load of laundry from my second floor apartment down the back staircase of my building to the basement when I slipped on one of the steps. First one leg went out from under me and then the other. I fell flat on my bottom and slid down two of the steps, slamming my back along the way. I was still holding the laundry basket. It was akin to a John Candy movie or perhaps a Three Stooges comedy. Unfortunately, I did not have a stunt double.

The first thought that crossed my mind was "Dear God, don't let me be paralyzed." When I felt the aching pain radiating out from under me, I was relieved. Trying to make as little noise as possible so not to attract my neighbors' attention (because once I established that I wasn't paralyzed, I didn't need to have my pride injured as as well as my bottom,) I got myself up and continued down the stairs to start the load of wash. I went back to my apartment, trying not to cry, and took three Motrin in the hopes of stopping the real pain that I knew was going to set in once the initial shock wore off.

Today is worse than yesterday. I am horribly sore, with bruises on my elbows from where I must hit them on the steps (holding the laundry basket) as well as on my back. It hurts to sit, it hurts to walk, and I can't really bend over at the waist. (Putting on shoes this morning was a challenge.) I came to work in the hopes that I could move around a bit and try not to get too stiff.

There is only one other time that I have been hurt like this. Senior year of college, I went skiing with some of my friends up in North Conway, NH. I hit a patch of ice, fell and rolled down the mountain. I haven't skied since. I have climbed up and down the stairs since falling so that is a good thing, but I might need to rethink how I carry my laundry downstairs. I have lived in my building for 9.5 years, and this is the first time I have fallen down the stairs. I guess that I have to count my blessings for that. I hope it is the last.

Looking Good & Feeling Good

I stopped eating desserts at the beginning of September and have managed to avoid them (with the exception of Christmas Day which was OUT OF CONTROL) since then. I have lost and kept off 15 pounds (at last check), and, more importantly, I feel SO MUCH BETTER. I had no idea how much sugar I was putting into my body. Good grief! Now when I have a coffee or iced tea with a real sugar or a glass of wine, I start to feel the sugar rush right away, and I notice a marked difference in my behavior. SPAZ! I don't like it nearly as much as I used to. Caffeine is good; sugar is decidedly not.

The other upside to the weight loss (besides feeling better) is being able to access a portion of my wardrobe that I haven't been able to wear in quite a while. Today, I was able to wear my kicking BR black flared skirt (much like the one Trinny is wearing here.) I haven't been able to wear this skirt and have it look nice in a couple of years. I wasn't sure that it was going to fit, but I tried it on on the off chance that it would,and it did. HOORAY!! And it looks kicking with my stretchy high heeled boots and teal long sleeve, cowl neck tee. Knowing that I look good in what I am wearing has a really positive effect on my overall disposition - I am much more upbeat today than the weather would normally have me be.

Truly Unfortunate Commute

I drove over the BU bridge at about 8:37 this morning behind a man on a bike. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. The sweatshirt had ridden up, and the jeans had ridden down. I had a very interesting view the length of the bridge. And I didn't know what to do: I wasn't going to honk my horn at him and I couldn't yell out the window at him. So I just tried not to stare and laugh. It made me think of that old Denis Leary line, "PULL UP YOUR PANTS!"

He went on to Cambridgeport, and I went on to Mem Drive. I really hope that no one he works with was driving in behind him.

Customer Service and the T

This is kind of funny. And yet, not. A year and a half to get an acknowledgment? Hopefully, it is just their server having some issues.

Funny thing is, I remember exactly what this complaint was about - the Green Line service running trains on a weeknight at 2.30am that were sharpening the tracks (or something like that) and making a God awful racket (as well as sending up major sparks) for over an hour. Some advance notice to neighbors would have been appreciated.

From: "do_not_reply@mbta.com"
Sent: Thursday, January 22, 2009 10:36:12 AM
Subject: Thank you for contacting the MBTA

We appreciate your business and value your feedback. A customer service
issue was logged on 2007-06-15 at 08:01:14

A tracking number of 00088621 has been assigned to this call. Please
reference this number on any additional communications you may have
regarding this issue.

The information you provided has been forwarded to the appropriate group.
If additional actions are required, a member from that department will
follow up on your issue.

Should you have additional questions or concerns regarding this issue,
please contact the Customer Support Services at 617-222-3200 or
800-392-6100, Monday through Friday ,6:30 AM to 8:00 PM and Sat/Sun from
7:30 AM to 6:00 PM.



** NOTE ** This email is being sent from an automated system and is an
unmonitored account. Please do not reply to this message.

I have two new recruits for the Young Dems

My friends RECK & NF have two awesome kids: AGKF & LJKF, ages 5 & 2.5 or thereabouts. Today, they decided to play "Barack Obama's Presidential Inauguration" with their Playmobile figures. I kid you not.

First, we have the motorcade:


Then we have the speech:

(NB: "Malia" and "Sasha" sitting with their mother and grandmother)

These kids are made of win.

Written on a snowy Sunday morning in January

I love these snowy Sunday mornings. Everything is so quiet, wrapped up in a blanket. The occasional car driving by or the scraping of shovels on the pavement are the only noises coming up from the street, and the building seems to still be asleep. I woke up at 7am; it was still very dark outside. It made me suspect that my clock wasn't working correctly. When I got up to double check the time with the clock in the living room, my suspicions were allayed, but it became painfully obvious that the sun was not going to make an appearance today.

I have made myself a breakfast of oatmeal and hot chocolate, a holdover from my childhood, when on snowy days like this one, my brother and sisters and I would pile on all our winter gear and help my father shovel the front walk and driveway. I wish that I had realized then that we weren't just doing a job, but we were making memories and traditions. We would all come in, usually sopping wet from snowball fights or sledding down the steep driveway, clomp down to the basement in our snow boots, where we would shed our wet clothes, hang everything up to dry, and then scurry up to the warm kitchen for our hot breakfast. (If it was a weekday, we would have already sat listening to Bob Steele on WTIC AM, hoping for a snow day. It is funny to remember how we would hold our breaths as he finished the towns beginning with "M"s and started through the "N"s. [Those kids in Litchfield County ALWAYS got the most snow days.])

Last night, my friend DM invited me to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button with her at the movie theater in Harvard Square, and then we grabbed some supper over at Cambridge 1 on Church Street, where we deconstructed the film.(Anyone else who has seen it, was young Daisy's voice dubbed at the beginning of the film? It seemed not quite right.) From our table, we could see through the back window to the old cemetery; it looked beautiful in the light from the street as it became further covered in snow.

Walking back up Brattle Street to where I had parked my car, we couldn't get over how quiet Harvard Square was on a Saturday night. So much has changed in that area since I first moved to Boston. Stores have come and gone (the amount of time I spent in that HMV was ridiculous) and soon mainstays like Crate and Barrel and Out of Town News will be leaving. It is rather sad, but, as they said in the movie, "nothing lasts."

Kill Your Television

My television watching experience summed up in one perfect graphic: