The Fall Down Kid...

...I am, I am.

I have tripped and fallen down many a time in my life: freshman year lecture hall (sooo cool), various steps around DC, Brass Monkey, Madam's Organ, the Spanish Steps in Rome (not v. European of me), Mister Days (when it was on 9th Street and not NOVA), Third Edition, Cactus Cantina (oh! how I want some nachos), Froggy Bottom (holla), Ozio (my personal favorite as people just don't TRIP there), etc. etc. And yet, through all of my major wipe-outs, I've still managed to keep it together because that's just what I do: I trip. It's like, my thing.

However, in Richmond, it's a whole other story. I have had 3 major instances of "biting it" that have severely limited my ability to like this city... fair or unfair, that's just the way it is. You may have noticed my penchant for blaming entire cities for things its inhabitants do. Anyway... without further ado, here are the "tripping tales"... in order of occurrence:

1. Ukrop's (the devil's playground): Ukrop's is a grocery... It's Richmond's "nice" grocery... like Baltimore's Eddies, Dayton's Dorothy Lane and DC's... um... well, DC doesn't have any decent groceries. But you get the picture. Anyway, yours truly fell down while carrying a glorious plate full of sushi to the checkout counter. Totally fell, busted my knee and ego and cried my way out of there never to return again. That's how I busted my left knee.

2. Walking Ebbitt #1: Ebbitt and I were talking our afternoon hike and no, Tim, I was not on the phone... but BOOM. I fell. Just like that. Ebbitt, undeterred, kept on walking with his leash dragging behind. I twisted my left ankle and scraped the hell out of my right knee. I was crying and a bloody mess. But, fear not, for I continued on to finish the walk- wound and all.

3. Walking Ebbitt #2: I finally located the laundry facility in this piece, and was carrying one of six loads to wash. I had my detergent, quarters, clothes and dryer sheets PLUS Ebbitt, his leash, and my keys... and SPLAT: I re-twisted my left ankle and managed to scrape my right knee NEXT to where the previous week's scrape was. I wanted to scream, yell, and dig a hole a die. But instead, I had to get up, hobble after an undeterred Ebbitt, yet again, and pick up the scraps of my dignity/laundry that was all over the parking lot. Such a metaphor for life.

4. Walking Ebbitt #3: I was carrying Ebbitt upstairs after our midnight walk, and I tripped, fell head first into a doorway, knocked my head, potentially knocked Ebbitt's head (he's fine, no worries), scraped my scab RIGHT OFF, and felt, for the first time, scared that I would never be able to walk again for fear of tripping 8 out of 10 times. Also, my initial fear was that I killed Ebbitt, but he's a trooper, and won't let me pick him up no mo'.

So there you have it. I seem to be healing, though a cut on your knee is impossible to grow a scab on, and I look at the constant falling as a huge manifestation of my troubles here in Richmond. And now that things have (hopefully) changed... I'm hoping I can keep my feet planted firmly on the ground. Hopefully.

love you all,
~mj

P.S. Once I fix my digital camera, I'm totally gonna take a picture of my wounded knee so y'all can take a look. It ain't perty.