gimp

this past week has been a little odd. with two of my classes cancelled, a mistake (hopefully) on my CAPS report, and a miniature refrigerator three-quarters full of leftovers that people bestow on me (i'm eating for at least half the week out of styrofoam containers), things would appear to have mellowed out. the theatre building was strangely ghostly, with a large contingent of people in Reno for ACTF, and i caught up with things.

friday sort of shocked me and knocked me--to the ground. literally. while practicing the final routine in my dance class, i lost my balance during a spin. it was one of those falls that you don't even realizing is happening until your ass and your tailbone hit the ground. i didn't even notice where my right foot was, but since then, i've had to hobble around, putting the bulk of my walking weight on my left foot, lest i provoke any sharp stabs of pain. i checked it soon afterwards, as did my father, but neither of us found any swelling or bruising, so we safely concluded that at least nothing was broken. however, it's been tender all weekend, seemingly healing right before i go to bed and steepening in pain when i wake up.

my brother told my mother what had happened, and she sent me a message urging me to get it checked out, as it might be a stress fracture. sure enough, when i checked it this morning, there was a noticeable, although not massive, amount of swelling near the three smallest toes on my right foot, and a slight bruise had faded in color, but grown in size, beneath where my metatarsals should join my tarsal bones. i am very concerned now, as this could mean that i could be out of commission for two of my classes, which require that i, well, be on my feet, at the very least. i tried testing myself in suzuki basic before slipping and earning another small bruise on my kneecap (in retrospect, that was probably the stupidest thing i could do with my foot's present condition). i am hoping that the nurse can figure out what it really is, and how long before it heals.

aside from all that fun and giddy stuff, one of my best friends has a percussion concert on thursday, which she says will be awesome, as they will be performing their own renditions of imogen heap songs. not missing this. unfortunately, this means i may have to miss the entire one-act festival--the concert is at the same time as opening night, and this entire weekend, i will be caught up and hunkered down as a team member in the 48-hour film slam. go me. i'll see if i have any time to sneak away for the saturday night performance.

and for some reason, i thought of you twice this weekend--once in a soft light. the feeling of hands on my face. the second time in a harsh, white spotlight: washing your skin out. what you said to my friend, although you probably thought nothing of it, sort of flipped the switch all the way down on my opinion of you. i could still consider you a friend, although definitely not as close as we once grew to be. (once.) but sadly enough, you can be an asshole. oh and you already knew you were, or that you were at least thought of in that way by some, but still, it's a revelation i can't shake. if i missed what was going on this next weekend, my only consolation would be that i didn't have to see you. even though it shouldn't matter. you and your shoulders have left just as deep a scar as he did, although its appearance is smaller, and i fear that most of the blame for both wounds lies with me. i would never have had one from for you, had we decided on no garden that day.

and now to hobble off to the shower; yes, this late, because i feel disgusting and maybe the steam will calm my nerves and my little injuries down. and the roses have died and are laying in the trash, and i smell freshly-mown grass instead of something dying.

-d