SO. I owed you a dance. Yes? If you check your yellowed dance card from 20 years ago, you might see my name is there, by Gangnam.
I had such good intentions! I got deep into the campaign for Good Reads, and my friend Alison came up with the video idea. I said no, even though it was a bril idea, because I had lost my flip phone fpor several years in a row, and when I found it, it wouldn’t hold a charge. PLUS flip ohones are no longer made, and the software to edit flip phone footage was on the computer that melted.But Alison is a MAC chick, and she said she could help. She has an iPad and all that sweet MAC simple-monkey video editing app stuff that even I could probably learn to work. It sounded fun, in a I-will-definitely-break-my-neck-and-die way, so I said OKAY! LET’S DO THIS THAAAANG.
Then… Dad got sick, and I just couldn’t care. You know how it is. When one of the little core folks in the clot of humans you love most on this blue ball is threatened, EVERYTHING goes to the roadside, and you do what has to be done.
But now, Dad is truly, finally on the real mend, and I am trying to catch up.
MY INTENTIONS??? SO GOOD!
Did you see me finish the pink sock’ed organizing essay series? I did that, and YESTERDAY, I had a date to shoot all the footage with Alison. I had an amusing-ish scriptlike outline of what scenes had to be shot, and I was TOTALLY COMMITTED to committing dance-crime, even though I had NO DOUBT it would end with me breaking something and going to the emergency room.
Since I was likely to die during the attempt, I wanted to leave a chic corpse. We went and got my hair cut and blown out, and I put on REALLY a lot of eye-make-up.
We went upstairs for wardrobe. We decided against the etsy-bought mini-skirt, and instead picked black skinny jeans, boots, black tank, and a whacked out quasi-trench coat thing I ordered off THE HOME SHOPPING NETWORK for this exact occasion.
I went the bathroom to change so I could attempt the dance and break something, and Alison went to get the camera. On the way, Alison…fell down my stairs and broke her foot.
WE ALL WERE SO SURE IT WOULD BE ME!
I iced her swelling foot and fed her Motrin (did you know it is an anti-inflammatory?) I wanted to take her to the hospital, but Alison wasn’t having it.
Alison: Maisy will be home soon. You have to be here—I will just go home.
Me: You can’t even drive yourself home!
Her: It isn’t my DRIVING foot.
Me: *heavy sarcasm* Oh, well if it isn’t your DRIVING foot.
Her: It’s my left foot.
Me; Okay, Daniel Day Lewis. We are going to the hospital.
Her: HA! Shut up. I don’t WANT to go to the emergency room.
Me: No one does. You catch diseases there. Is there a doc in the box we could go to?
Her: No. I’m going to go home. *She stands up and a few tears spurt out of her eyes.*
Me: UH that is TERRIBLE! Pain scale one to ten?
Me: You need an X-Ray! You can’t go home with a pain scale of seven. It may even be an eight—you JUST CRIED TEARS.
Her: No, that was because you mentioned Daniel Day Lewis…and that was such a sad movie.
That made me laugh. She DID agree to go to a doc in the box, eventually, though the independent little cuss drove herself. The Doc said she borked up her ankle pretty good, and sent her home with crutches and a fist full of vicodin.
MOSTLY I feel sorry for Alison, but I am starting to feel like the UNIVERSE is protecting itself, breaking the bodies of people I love to STOP from this dance from happening. Should I try again, I kinda expect an alien attack, or for the sun to explode.