Totaled Part II

Yes, I'm still out here, floating in the cyber world when I can.  Job changes and responsibilities combined with Christmas prep have been occupying my time.  Although, I'm pretty sure no one has been waiting with baited breath for me to continue.

Toyota #2-
When I went to replace the Echo I knew I wanted a slight upgrade.  I was lucky enough to find a year old Toyo Corolla.  It was a 2003 silver Corolla S.  I bought it myself (dad did have to co-sign).  I made every payment myself.  I was quite proud of that. 

On a Sunday in the middle of January 2009 I was traveling downtown to band practice.  I made a left turn on a green arrow.  I was the second car in line to make the turn.  When making this particular turn I had to cross three lanes of traffic.  As I was about to cross the third, furtherest lane, a car sped in front of me.  I T-boned the car, and they took my car with them.  WTF!?  Thank God I wasn't traveling very fast.  The driver and passenger then proceeded to get out of the car and tell me I didn't have the right of way.  Nevermind that they later admitted that none of the other lanes of traffic were moving.  When I told them I had a green arrow they didn't even realize there was an arrow at that light.  I remember looking at their license plate and seeing that they were from Pennsylvania.  So, okay, they aren't from the city.  But did they really have to total my car THE WEEK I PAID IT OFF!?  sigh................

So now I drive a 2003 Ford Explorer.  Husband and I decided it would be smart to put a new engine in the Land Cruiser rather than buy another car and have 2 car payments.  Plus, when you consider my history with small vehicles, I'm probably safer.  Maybe I should just drive a tank.  At least then no one could total it.

Totaled

I have owned two Toyotas, well, I guess technically I "own" a third, but only technically.  Sir R has a '94 Toyo Land Cruiser.  This is the tale of the two Toyotas and how they were totaled.

Toyota #1:
Toyota #1 was my first, very own, vehicle.  It was a 2000 Toyota Echo, hunter green, 4 door.  Nothing fancy, but it got great mileage.  I loved that car.  I put 105,000 miles on it in 3 1/2 years.  We had some good times.  My dad, yes, my dad, bought me the car.  I know, spoiled brat, thanks.  He paid the car off about 2 months prior to the date it was totaled.

I remember that day very clearly.  It was March 2, 2004, the day my nephew "Small Fry" was born.  I went, after work, to see my sister before heading into downtown Baltimore for a show.  From the hospital he was born at I had to travel 695 (which is a stretch of hellish traffic packed highway).  As I'm coming around a turn I see a small sign that says LEFT LANE CLOSED 1/2 MILE.  I shift one lane to the right.  I never saw another sign indicated that the lane was going to be closed, but I did see the traffic backing up.  I come up over a small hill and I slow to a stop.  I check the car behind me and see that it is going to stop as well.  Completely calm I look forward again and within another 10 seconds my car is in the trunk space of the car in front of me.   Apparently the car that was two cars behind me hit the car behind me.  I was then pushed into the LEXUS in front me and he was pushed into the car in front of him.  Stunned, I turned my car off and got out as a State Trooper is coming down the side of the road to make sure everyone was okay.  I had no injuries whatsoever.  After I called my sister, my boss, and a couple people that were waiting for me downtown the Trooper hands me the insurance information of the car that caused the accident.  I got back in my car, started it back up, and went downtown.  The poor Echo ran about another week and then would give no more.  I wasn't charged with the accident, which can be touchy in the state of Maryland when you end up rearending someone use.  Thank you State Troopers for being our witness!

Reason for Concern

So, I have a few new bruises that have origins unknown to me.  Perhaps they have surfaced from a bump into the kitchen table, or a turn at my desk in my twisty chair.  I am the type of person that should not be allowed to have a twisty chair.  Inevitably I spin my knees into the corners at my desk, or I get bored and just spin around and around.  Anywho - I have bruises that are normal, for me at least, and leave no cause for alarm.  However, I am concerned about my shin from the infamous tumble.  Is it possible to bruise a bone?  The yellow, jaundice looking bruise has finally disappeared, but there is still a sharp pain in my shin if I apply too much pressure when stepping down.  I'm now torn between having it checked out, or just waiting it out.  I'm on my feet a lot at job #2, and it seems to be fairing fairly well, if you will....

Paintastic.

I hobbled around the diner for a few days after an infamous tumble.  But, I seemed to be getting around fairly well, despite the pain, or so I thought.

I was cleaning behind the bar (I've been dumping bleach down all drains to eradicate fruit flies), not really paying attention to where I was turning, and WHACK!  There is a metal corner that juts out from where the small sink is.  It is an extension of where we keep our rail liquor and mixers.  This corner just happens to be right at knee level when I wear my sketcher shape-ups.  I immediately went to the floor and was in so much pain that I couldn't talk enough to tell I.M. what I'd done to myself.  A few minutes passed and I explained myself.  I felt better, and finally got up and went on my merry way.  The end of my shift came and I was irritated about something so I stamped my foot.  Pain shot up through the bruise on my shin (from the infamous stair tumble) and continued to my knee where I ran into the metal corner.  ugh.....

Don't ever become a clutz, whatever you do, DO NOT become a clutz.  It is painful.

That First Steps a Doozy!

It has come to my attention that I am not as young as I used to be, or as I seem to have convinced myself I am.

Saturday night I headed to my neighbor's after work for another neighbor's birthday extravaganza.  These particular festivities happened to include a moonbounce.  Yes, a moonbounce.  No, it was not a child's birthday party.  S turned 38 this weekend.  So, I partook in the moonbounce fun and pulled a few muscles in my lower back.  And, that was just the precursor!!!  

I woke up Sunday feeling rather lousy, but I ran a few errands and went to lunch with Sir R.  We ran into J&J at lunch and joined them at a bar down the street for a couple drinks.  This was quite delightful for a bit.  Then Mrs. J got up to head downtown to see Blondie & Cheap Trick.  Sir R and I decided we wanted to go too.  Once the decision was made we got up, paid the tab, and decided to go out the back by way of the basement.  I have only been out this way once and I am not familiar with the terrain.  I'm sure you can begin to guess where this is going.  I turned the corner in the very short, pitch black hallway, made one step forward as I was switching on the light and there was no longer flooring beneath me.

I am going to take a brief moment to be serious.  Had there been light, well maybe I wouldn't have fallen at all, or maybe I would have broken my neck because I would have tensed up.  I tumbled, unlike any tumble I have taken before.

I rolled over and over down an entire flight of stairs.  Once at the bottom I found myself sitting in drywall dust and dirt with a filthy wound on my right shoulder (more like the nastiest rug burn I've ever seen, my skin is completely rubbed off) and what is going to be an epic bruise.  My back started throbbing more than it had been.  This all happened in a span of maybe 15 seconds.  Then I hear Sir R on the steps.  "Yes, Sir R, I'm okay.  No, Sir R, I don't want to move right now."  So I sat there trying to get dust out of my hair and off my shirt.  Needless to say we didn't go see Blondie.  Partially because I was having trouble walking and partially because lawn tickets cost $35.

Ugh...what a hot mess....

Watch Where You're Going!

I took Sir R to dinner on the Thursday before Baltimore's Artscape Festival.  For those of you that are unfamiliar - http://www.artscape.org/.  We went to our favorite place, Tapas Teatro, which happens to be located on one of the streets that is shut down for Artscape.  We had to park a block away and walk.  The street was closed down and there was a large trailer parked on the sidewalk.  Sir R was a little bit ahead of me (so we could squeeze by the trailer), and holding my hand, so I was walking a little faster than usual and was not exactly watching where I was going.  I mean, come on, who expects there to be a 4 inch metal pipe sticking out of the left side of a sidewalk!?

I'm sure you can guess what happened next.  Rather than walking over the pipe, I walked into it.  The pain was minimal as my endorphins kicked in, so I assumed I had just whacked my foot hard.  I'm thinking, "that'll be a nice bruise."  When we stepped into the restaurant I looked down to discover that my foot was bleeding heavily.  I'm talking big drops of blood rolling down the top of my foot.  To the bathroom I went to try to clean myself up.  After about 5 minutes I went and sat with my husbando, thinking that the bleeding had stopped.  I was certainly wrong.  It bled, although much more slowly, throughout most of dinner.  

Now, I have a lovely scar on the top of my foot.  I'm assuming that, in time, it will fade, as most of mine do.  (although I still have the gill shaped scar from my neighbor's lantern last summer, just not as noticeable.)  Please see scar photo attached.....

I'll Cut You

Dear Blog, it has been over a year. I would say I'm sorry, but if I was truly sorry I wouldn't have waited a year to visit.

A year of disasters have happened. But, I'll begin with my favorite -

I went to visit A. I love A dearly, but it is not often that her and I get to spend time chatting, just the two of us. We did just that on this particular evening. It was last summer, but it wasn't too warm so we sat on her porch. I took a half full, family sized bottle of wine. I am the lush that always brings her own bottle. I am the lush that is always asked to open the unopened bottle of wine...or maybe it's just the bartender in me.... Anywho - We drank a couple glasses, but there was still a little bit of wine left when I got up to leave. So, I corked the bottle and left almost exactly as I had come. A had already made her way back into her house as I crossed the street to where my car was parked.

Now, I must make a double side note. I almost always have on flip flops in the summer unless I'm at work or out on the town. Flip flops have no traction. Also, A and I decided to have a wine drinking pajama party, so I was wearing Frankenstein pj pants....

I go to step on the sidewalk and my right flip flop, well, flops out from under me. Or maybe it flipped....Down I went, wine bottle first. I managed to roll away, so my torso avoided the glass, but I can't say the same for my hand. And there I sat, surrounded by glass and red wine. I would have actually felt better about the situation had I been drunk. My only option was to call A for help, and out she came to the rescue. She may have even been wearing a super hero cape. She picked me up off the ground and took me inside to pick glass out of my hand, while her darling love Sir M went and cleaned up my mess. Hands bleed a lot. Just so you know.

I was finally sent on my way...again. I made it to my house without further incident, only to find that the college brats were parked in my parking pad...AGAIN. For the most part they are well behaved. But, if Sir R came home (he is no longer my fiance, but my loving husband) and could not park in the parking pad that he built behind the house that he owns, well, it isn't always pretty. Sooooo, I asked if the vehicle that was unknown to me belonged to anyone on the deck behind my house. Some poor fellow jumped up and came to move it apologizing over and over. I explained that it was not public parking, don't do it again, etc. As I am doing this I hear a call from the party "Who's that bitch!?" Before I let myself respond I looked down at myself in my Frakenstein pajama pants, broken flip flops (yes, the flop broke), and bloody, wine stained hand, and gave up.