I Want My Smooth Back

Before I can finish my San Diego story or tell about my injured knee I have to explain something else. 2007, all 16 days of it, has been kinda sucky. Initially I had a hard time trying to figure out exactly what was going on, then once I figured it out, I had a hard time trying to convert it from an abstract concept to something I could put into words. I'll try to explain it. The expression I came up with is "I've lost my smooth."

Although I have my fair share of goofy moments (which have been well chronicled here), I'm a pretty capable person. Most of my life I've been several steps ahead of the game, imagining every possible outcome of any action, and planning accordingly. Also, when confronted with the unexpected, I'm quick on my feet. Lately I've been WAY off kilter. And particularly unsmooth.

We woke up in our lovely room, on Sunday, the 7th looking forward to our ferry trip to Coronado Island. My right foot was bothering me, particularly my little toe. Being the self-diagnostic type regarding anything about my body, I decided the problem was that my toenail was too long. Obviously clipping it would solve everything. And being the person that I am, I of course had nail clippers. I clipped that silly nail and decided everything would be fine after that. Shortly after lunch, as we were walking south on 5th avenue, I realized my problem was not solved. Still we continued to walk around stopping only once or twice for me to quaff some beers. We knew the ferry left on the hour and kept slightly missing our window of opportunity to head to the Broadway pier. Finally the timing seemed about right and we caught a cab for the pier. I was so happy knowing I would be sitting for 15 minutes. The day was gorgeous. I loved sitting on the ferry and looking at the water. I even had my little binoculars. For 15 minutes I forgot about my achy little toe.

We disembarked at a cheesy little tourist trap place. I was not impressed with the place although I found a surf shop with decently priced t-shirts and we found a little cafe where we had drinks on the deck and split a steamed artichoke. At the indoor bar, we asked if there were cabs for the grabbing to go to the hotel Del. The bartender said he could call for one and one of the patrons suggested we rent bikes to go there as it was only about a mile. My toe was KILLING me so that was not an option. We should have taken the bartender up on his offer, but we headed out and walked out to the public streets. Nothing. We did finally notice a shuttle stand. A shuttle to the Hotel Del even. So we sat there for 20 minutes to wait. Once we were finally on the shuttle, as I pondered my screaming toe ache, I realized I could have bought some flip-flops at the touristy place. The NORMAL me would have thought of that AT THE TIME, but not the new unsmooth me. So then I not only had a sore toe but was frustrated with myself. I continued down my path of unsmoothness. We walked through the shops at the Hotel Del. No flip-flops, just $145 moccasins and tennis shoes. No thanks. THEN I walked right past a bathroom - and yes I noticed it at the time. Since when do I not stop at a bathroom? I drink beer all day for crying out loud! Unsmooth. We ended up at the cabana bar out by the beach. Everything was gorgeous, the bartender was very nice, but I had to pee. And there was no way I was going to walk all the way back to that bathroom. I took my shoe off and the bartender gave me some ice. I iced my toe and had 2 or 3 beers.

The way to look for the bunnies was in the opposite direction of the bathroom, but I wanted to find the bunnies so we headed off that way. They are no longer there. I found the place where they used to be, but no bunnies. I hate to think of what happened to them. I'm sure they didn't just LEAVE - I mean it's an island, where would they have gone? Let's not think about the bunnies anymore.

We made it back to the main part of the hotel, found the bathroom and My Sweetie said, "Okay, let's just get a cab back to our hotel." Best plan ever! When we got back to our room, I took those shoes off and may never wear them again. Now is a time to mention that since it was such a short trip, I only took the one pair of shoes, but I did have my L.L. Bean moccasin slippers. Yes, my house shoes, or in this case, my smoking shoes. Our hotel was non-smoking except on the roof, so I had brought those to wear up to the roof in the mornings and late at night. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I decided to wear my slippers for the rest of the trip. If you want to feel weird, sit in a fancy restaurant in the Gaslamp District of San Diego in your slippers. Wearing them to the airport the next day was awesome though, and I may fly in them from now on.

At the airport, we pretty much had the bar to ourselves. I made up a game where we did a pictionary type thing of movie titles. It was pretty funny. And the plane! I think there were maybe 15-20 people on the whole MD-80. I haven't been on an empty plane in years! That part was NICE. I forgot to mention that I was full-blown sick at this point so I pretty much slept the whole way home. I didn't even have a beer, just orange juice - and if you knew me you would know that meant I was really sick.

On Tuesday, I was so sick I forgot to call Meals on Wheels and tell them, so I had to buck up and go out on Wednesday. Friday night brought the beginning of our arctic blast. It was basically a stay-in-the-house weekend. On Sunday night, My Sweetie bundled up to "go out and check conditions." He said, "There's no ice on the road." I heard, "There's no ice on the ground." Our power had been going out for about 5 minutes at a time. When it came back on the air blower for our spa would come on. We don't use it and it's very shrill so he had turned it off. Well, after he went to bed, the power went out again for about 9 minutes. It came back and shrill air blower was screeching away. I decided to go out and push that little button by the spa. "No ice on the road" does NOT mean "No ice on the deck." I know that NOW. My left foot went up on the deck, I mean sheet of ice, and every part of my body flew left except my right foot from the knee down. It all happened pretty fast but it was bad. Then I went straight down on my butt and burst into tears from the knee pain. I hobbled back into the house blubbering away, woke up My Sweetie, freaking him out. He cut the power to the spa and helped me settle down with an ice pack and a small ice chest of beers. The next day he bought me an Ace knee brace, and it is doing better - my knee I mean. Slipping on ice - not smooth.

I want my smooth back.