In Which, Our Heroine Gets an Owie
I am not generally considered a graceful person. This is despite the fact that the name "Anne" apparently means "graceful." All my sports involvements are very, very, very trained reflexes. I can learn a skill, and I can see something and translate it well into my body. But as an innate grace, I am rather a failure, and it certainly failed me this afternoon.

It isn't even that interesting a tale. I ran to catch a bus, slipped on a teeney bit of ice, thought briefly that I was going to pull it out and remain vertical, but then the scale tipped and I went down. Hard. I distinctly remember my face crashing into the asphalt. Ow. No permanent damage, but lots of bruises and sore spots that I discover as I move. My face is only a little red at the moment, but Matt said it was swollen, and I suspect it is going to come up in a nice bruise on my cheek. Yuck. I happen to have a doctor's appointment at 8 tomorrow morning. I suspect I might have a bit of explaining to do. "I swear, Doctor, I am not being beaten at home."

Initially, this appeared that this was going to put a damper in my plans to have dinner at the highly ideal Cafe Habibi with Matt. I had a headache, and felt like I had been hit by a truck. So I called to cancel. But no! Matt, who is an exceptionally sweet individual, stated that he wanted to see me, and that I should look on the menu on line and then call him back so that he could pick up the food and bring it here. We like Matt. Then he offered to take me to the hospital, but I was quite adamant that it wasn't necessary. It is, afterall, just a headache and some bruises. I've had concussion. This isn't it.

Or maybe it is. I am busy revelling in my newfound respect for Catherine Zeta Jones. Lola and I went to see Chicago on Sunday, and I was just floored by the whole experience. They did an excellent job of capturing a musical on film. I kept wondering how theywould have done certain aspects on the stage. And my jaw just kept dropping at CZJ. Pulling dance moves I can't do in my wildest fantasies, only in three inch heels, and whie in the early stages of pregnancy. I've always had this weird predjudice against her since she was dating John Leslie back in the early nineties. Of course, I was no where near next in line to date him if she wasn't around, but still the predjudice developed. I did feel badly for her though when John Leslie was then arrested, etc this summer on rape allegations and in every profile of him, there was a picture of her. So maybe the predjudice started to erode. But this movie? I tip my cap in respect to the woman. I even want to see the movie again.

Oooo, my head. I think I better go to sleep now. Be well, my friends.
Love,
Anne