Painfully embarrassed...

So...

I'm sitting here typing in pain. Sore. And sore-er than when I was heaving cement last summer. About the same, but a smidge worse. Like, if I heaved cement...went to sparring...and RSvP lands a nice solid round kick below my rib guard in my floating rib. Sore.

My gal was frassin' up in the Cloud of Saintliness, and I had a chance to go to a CB gathering at Davey's with a Hawaiian Luau theme. I had it all. Recently purchased Hawaiian shirt (Me, of all people. Hawaiian Shirtless.) Booze. A full tummy. Swim Trunks for the hot tub. All adding up to a good time in my estimates.

And it was, to be sure. People were frassin'. I was my old obnoxious self. I made a few party fouls (Cursing a bit, when there were little munchkins present. Talking over folks, per normal. Being bossy. Throwing snowballs at poor BWJ like I'm the high school bully) By 1am I was loopy, and ready for bed time. (Not the 25 year old spring chicken, and soaking for a goodly amount of time while imbibing made for a sleepy buzzy P ) The hostess acknowledged as much and despite my stupid protests I knew she was right. And I felt better for being smart.

There was also our state High School Tournament blizzard that rolled in on Sats. So, we already had over10 inches of snow on the ground by that point.

When I had determined myself fit for driving an hour later, I headed out to brave the elements hoping to spend the night in my own warm (Albeit girlfriend-less...sniff...) bed.

Everything was fine for the first, oh, 2 blocks. Then I got myself stuck. Stuck stuck. At 2 am.

Some folks were walking and tried to help. After they left, I managed to creep 20 more feet and wedge myself perpindicular to the street. I got out, tried pushing from behind, then from my door. When I slipped and landed face first-well, my knee, palm, and elbow kept me from landing on my forehead. Well, I began to despair a bit. I finally (After managing to nearly fry my transmission and brakes trying to "rock" myself free 20 times) pulled into what I thought was a church parking lot and gave up. Knowing I was only 2 blocks away and grateful I wore longjohns, deep weather clothes, and my Sorel's- I decided to head back. The streets and sidewalks were drifting, and due to a thigh-Deep drift and a strong gust of wind I went down again. And after feeling this weather was better suited for Anne Bancroft and a team of huskies I made it back and they graciously let me crash.

I woke up with various lil knicks and owies. And a nice abrasion on my lip that looked like a herpe. After BKFST I noticed that my phone was no where to be found when I went to call my fam and Dorajar to let them know my whereabouts. We all went out to shovel out our hosts driveway before departing for my car. On the way, we stopped to help 3 or 4 stuckies as we came across them. Pushing caddies uphills. Shovelling with the extra shovels we threw in his truck. It was cathartic, but tiring. By the time we hit my car I realized that it wasn't a school or church, but an apartment with private driveway I'd hobbled into. We jumped out to shovel me out, and were joined by another neighborhood samaratin who'd been shovelling out his neighbors. I was so anxious to get in my car and get home that I left my man-purse in his car.

Still...no cell phone.

At home, the plows had came (And, cough cough. Bless the Nordeast Mipple plowers who'd cleared TONS more street space than the South Mipples fella's) However, there was a 2 foot berm on the West side blocking any attempt to park. So, I turned on my blinkers...went in and grabbed a shovel, and cleared a heavy...icy section that would just fit my car. By the time I got in my house I was sweating...quiet...and torqued that I had lost my phone. After calling ma and Dora, I reflected before going back out to finish shovelling out around my car. More heavy. Even being "back safe" it was some heavy frass. (*To his credit, Jellybean had been shovelling the walk periodically throughout the night and morning. His trips to shovel were little "pushing bouts" as he called them to keep the work down)


I took a hot shower, and waited for Dorajar to come over from the Cloud.

Instead of the normal routine on Oscars to go to a kick-ass and fun party, we stayed in with the Bean and Georgie. I took a high dose painkiller while sitting on the couch and drooling over my Indian food. And passed out when it was done. Today? I had that hateful, groggy, hazy, post-painkiller frame of mind that made the a.m. feel like an out of body experience.

And it hurts to breath. A lot.

So, there it is. If you know my cell # and want to reach me, I'm at home now. ("I can only be reached on my land-line, Tank") I need a new phone. And body. Ouch.

I'm actually glad that it's Monday.