Last night I met friends for a drink at Fries and Peanuts. As we left I walked down a stretch of sidewalk that I have walked down about a million times this year alone. I was wearing my trusty black birkenstocks which have gotten a bit stretched out. I need to have Ernie put another hole in them so I can tighten them. Whether it was because they were a bit loose, or just because it was my time, my shoe caught on a slightly uneven lip of the sidewalk and I went flying. It's such a horrible feeling to know that you're going down and there's nothing to catch you. You can't help but think, "I can stop this, I can stop this" and then you hit the sidewalk.
Yes, I went splat, sprawled out beautifully no doubt, on the sidewalk in full view of everyone on the Esquire's outside patio, everybody sitting outside at Seven Saints, and right next to a group of people that were standing there talking.
Everybody was incredibly kind and kept asking me if I was o.k. There's something about a fall that can be so jarring. I wanted to cry even though I was barely scraped up, and mostly I wanted to disappear. "I'm fine, I'm fine," I said and scurried for the car.
I got home and told Owen what happened. He chuckled mournfully, thought a minute, and then said, "I once farted in the library." "It was really loud and the kids laughed, but Mrs. Matthews stood up for me and said, 'now, now'."
I hugged him and told him I loved him because really, what else could I do?
In other news Leo has updated his website. Personally I think it looks pretty damn wonderful. Please feel free to peruse.
Crazy light after that thunderstorm yesterday evening, huh?