jynxed's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back to Big Bear - Part Two

"WORSE? How could things get any worse? Take a look
around here, Ellen. We're at the threshold of hell!"

-National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation

So,

Friday, July 2, 2004...circa 3:42 pm

The phone rang and I left the bitterly depression of Cold Mountain to answer it. It was Amanda, who offered a cheerful "Hey hon!" We talked for a bit and I wandered over by the front window, near the fan which was trying hard to cool down the humid room.

She asked me how my day was (ah, how sweet...shaddup) and I started to tell her about popping the UPS battery backup thingamajigger and how that because I know more than a little something about computers, that apparently made me an electrician who knew everything there is to know about industrial wiring.

This, from a guy who, as a not terribly young kid, once opened up an old tape recorder because the batteries were dead, found the wires that connected to the battery case, pulled them out, and plugged them directly into the wall... ZZZZZTTT! Luckily, I didn't toast myself or burn down the house, but that electrical outlet was sure nice and brown. Even melted the plastic a bit.

And they wanted ME to solve the electrical problem. Riiiight.

So I began my sorrid tale and took a step back, away from the window, and felt a tail beneath my foot.

Good ol' Cooper.

Not wanting to hurt the poor puppy, who had sneaked up behind me like some sinister predator, but having already committed my (considerable) weight to moving backwards, I did a quick shuffle step to get my foot off his tail.

Seemed like a good idea at the time.

Seemed like a pretty fucking bad idea half a second later when my other foot stumbled into Cooper's body. And what was the dog doing as I gracefully tripped over him?

Nothing. He was laying on the floor and so help him, he wasn't moving for anything.

"God DAMMIT Cooper!" I hollered as I struggled in vain to get my original foot maybe over the dog and keep myself from falling down.

Didn't work.

I ended up twisting to the side and falling all the way to my ass, luckily missing the poor dog, who was still looking up at me without moving and giving me an irritated glare that said "Why are you yelling at ME, buddy? YOU'RE the klutz going down!"

So because I love him so much (snarl) and didn't want my chunky physique to crush him into golden mush, I twisted myself in mid-air and came down on my butt.

Which isn't quite accurate, because before my ass hit the carpet, my back, from shoulder-blade to shoulder-blade, hit the TV table. Hard.

"FUCK!"

Again my dog looked at me with eyes that said "*gasp!* Such language!"

But hey, it hurt like a motherfucker and I'm lucky I didn't break my freakin' back. Instead, I spent the rest of the weekend looking like I had auditioned for the lead in Mel Gibson's The Passion of Christ. Surprisingly, the angry red stripe between my shoulder-blades never turned into a bruise, but my whole back has been tweaked painfully ever since. It's getting better, if you care.

"What happened?" Amanda asked.

Now, human beings are capable of great kindnesses. Some people routinely give money to charity and others hand out free candy at Halloween. Some people do something simple such as raise hot girls like Elisha Cuthbert, and others are hot girls themselves and e-mail me pictures (hint hint...you know who you are, and if not, do it anyway :)

However, all things need balance, and to counter this incredible potential to do good, we all have in us the drive to be evil.

Particularly when we're hurting like a sumbitch and someone casually asks us what's wrong.

Don't believe me? Go to a maternity ward and find some woman in the midst of "natural child birth." Make sure she's not secretly getting painkillers, then calmly walk up to her, pat her on the hand and say "Oh sweetie, what's wrong?"

When, indeed if, they revive you, let me know if you've changed your mind.

If that doesn't work, go kick some dude in the nuts and ask him what's wrong. If you're a girl and he gives you ten bucks and asks for his number, it was me (nice to meetcha); otherwise, again I think I made my point.

"YOUR GODDAMN DOG SNUCK UP BEHIND ME AND I TRIPPED OVER HIM AND FELL ON THE TV TABLE AND BROKE THE FUCK OUT OF MY BACK!"

"Um...are you okay?"

"NO!" I tried moving around a little. It hurt, but I wasn't going to end up in the hospital. "Well, yeah. Sort of."

"Okay, well, I guess I better go."

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you t--"

I hung up and threw the phone across the room at the couch. For once, luck was with me and it actually HIT the couch, and not any breakable bric-a-brac.

Childish, I know, but hey, I was in pain.

I crawled over to the love seat and flopped into it like a dead fish, then stared at the ceiling bemoaning my fate.

Fifteen minutes later, Amanda came home, I apologized for yelling, and started packing up the Santa Fe.

My back still hurt, but it wasn't TERRIBLE. I took a couple Advil, gave my reflection a look of disgust (which I often do), and decided that hey, things could only get better from here.

Right?

[To be continued...]

4:49 p.m. - July 08, 2004

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

contact

random entry

other diaries:

dizzy-dame
brokenglue
unclebob
andrew
chubbychic
savecraig