Yes, yes. I know the title of this post is also the name of a movie starring...I want to say William, no John Hurt and Barbara Hershey I think. And technically when I'm in Ottawa (which is the place from where the facts of this post will be drawn from), I'm not a tourist. I've lived there. We go there often. We stay with family (lucky them!). But that's the title you're getting so enjoy or mope. Makes no never mind to - NO, wait. It is William Hurt.
There's no doubt about it folks, I am accident prone. My body moves about space in such a way that sometimes I think parts of it are magnetically drawn, in a mysterious and disturbing way, to solid objects. I'm not alone in this so please don't think I think that I'm special. It's just that sometimes, it really gets on my nerves.
While in Ottawa, I injured myself three times and we were only there for a week. Once in the bathroom, once in the kitchen, and once in the living room. Let me tell you the tale and for the added ingredient of fun, I've included photos.
Once upon a time there was a bathroom that I have been in about a thousand times.
I was doing my normal bedtime routine (brushing, thinking about flossing) and upon finishing my teeth regime, I turned to use the toilette before retiring to bed because that's what I do. As I turned to my right, I connected head to wall with this.
I have been near this bit of wall the same amount of times I've been in this bathroom. I have leaned on it when my back was sore, leaned against it when I was sick, been near it enough that I am perfectly aware of it's existence in the bathroom. It's a part of the good and bad of my bathroom experience and I thought we had an understanding that pain from it was not on the table. Clearly it felt differently because that night it decided to get nasty and leap in my way. While half asleep and already feeling moo, I did this...
See where I'm pointing? I slammed my forehead onto the edge of this wall. Let me tell you, it smarted rightly and I don't mind letting it be known that I said some very choice words out loud for the wall to hear. Take that wall!
The next day, while rummaging for lettuce (the only way to look for lettuce) in the fridge, I hit my head again.
Right below the instructions for how to cook Sean's aunt's delicious apple pie to golden perfection, just left of where my poor head had had a date with the edge of the wall, I rammed my forehead mountain goat like into the freezer door. I reeled back and almost cried and not because it hurt, which is did, but because I was highly ticked off that once again, my lack of spacial relations and body magnetism worked together to bring me pain.
For the next few days, I did ok. I managed to walk through the world without hitting everything as I strolled near it. However, the second to last night we were there, I had an unfortunate encounter with this bit of evil.
Oh yes, my friends. You now what's coming. I had a run in with a rocking chair. Below are pictures of Sean performing a dramatic reenactment of my encounter with said rocking chair.
Now while these pictures are colourful, blurry, and entertaining, they are false. This is what I would call "an exaggerated and controversial retelling" of the incident. The truth of the matter is that as I sat down I somehow manged to get my right foot under the right rung, foot thingy and rocked forward on it as I placed myself fully onto the seat. Boy, bloody HOWDY did it hurt. I tried, I really tried to keep the swearing in, but there was no way to stop the words from bursting forth. I wouldn't say I cursed a blue streak because it was only one phrase, but it was given a lot of loud air. I would post a picture to prove I have a bruise, but I couldn't get a picture that really showcased it. I'm VERY pale and at best picture reveals my unflattering, pasty glow.
The next day, as well as bruise, (seriously, I do have one. Trust me) I almost had an aversion to shoes which made my day challenging as I needed to wear shoes on purpose in order to drive to the liquor store so that I could purchase a most delicious bottle of, not found in my local liquor store, Honey Badger Red Wine. It's the ultimate yum in a bottle.
And there ends my week of injuries. I have managed to not hurt myself too much upon my return home. However, it is only a matter of time before my body feels the pull of sharp, hard things and I - you know, I'm going to stop there. This blog post is taking a turn I hadn't intended.
Here's to being clumsy.
Here's to being creative.