Dear Blog,
I am sorry for ignoring you the past few weeks. And now I am going on holiday and will continue to slight you. In fact, I'm having an affair with another blog -- http://roadmonkey.net/blog/.
Follow me there and when I return, I promise to give you some TLC.
Love,
Stef
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
If you're going to become true dodgeballers, then you've got to learn the five d's of dodgeball: dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge!
So, some more commentary on one of my favorite subjects: No longer being a real athlete, and (more importantly?) no longer being treated like a real athlete. Let's compare a couple of foot injuries.
Situation 1: Broken Ankle
After falling on black ice like the raging klutz that I am, I wait out the weekend before ending up at the trainers. Without even having a chance to shave my leg one last time, I am slapped with a cast and crutches and told I might need crazy surgery and will be out for at least 6 weeks of season. Tears ensue. A day later I see a (hot) orthopedist who also happens to be an ex-lacrosse player and intimately understands the burning desire to participate, at least in part, in my season. He says I definitely will not need surgery, takes my cast off in 3 weeks and allows me to start aerobic exercise before I can even walk properly (still in a boot). With 3 regattas left to go, I'm given the green light to row with a canvas brace. This man understood my priorities; this man worked to get me active.
Situation 2: Stress Fracture in Second Metatarsal
Titles aside (let's be honest, "stress fracture" sounds way more pussy than "broken"), this injury is not all that serious. It hurt at first and it's a pain in the ass (especially since I haven't ponied up for a gym membership yet) because you have to stay off it. So, my (not hot) podiatrist takes an ex-ray and CAN'T SEE ANYTHING (please, remember this for later). Now, for an abbreviated 'he said she said': He says, I think it's a stress fracture, but it could be tendinitis. Well, I say, I am climbing Kilimanjaro at the end of the month, so what can be done. And he says I don't think you can climb a mountain. And I say -- What if this were my job? What is possible? He says, Well, if it's your job, can't someone go in your place? (I start to get pissy). No, it's a start up company, no replacement. [pause] Isn't there anything that might enable me to do this? It's still 3 weeks away. And he goes: Well, if it was the Olympics and it was going to be another four years until you could do this again, then well...
(oh no you didn't)
Then tells me to go get an MRI (tears ensue, I had to skip the Phish concert). MRI, sadly, says I do in fact have a stress fracture. After my massive attitude problem of the day before, he ups the effort a little bit and gives me crutches to help keep the weight off, some creatively cut padding and a bone stimulator (use your imagination. okay, your imagination is wrong and dirty. it's sorta like ultrasound). Then I see him the next week and HE TAKES ANOTHER X-RAY. Guess what? It doesn't show anything. So he says come back on Tuesday (yesterday). And then (wait for it) HE TAKES ANOTHER X-RAY. Guess what? He claims it shows the bone healing. Just barely. What a crock of...
Anyway, then he puts a graphite in-sole in my hiking boot, charges me $135 dollars (Dear Socialized Health Care, I miss you. Love, Stef) and says "If you were doing 6 miles out and 6 miles back...or hiking a day and stopping then it would be okay. But 7 days...I don't think you should do it." Shut up! You just told me I could walk 12 miles and now you are saying I can't do it?
Today, I am allowed to wear my hiking boots instead of the boot (I look very styling. Think female Steve Irwin). So. I'm putting it to a vote. Can I climb this mountain? (note this is "can" not should. I know I shouldn't, please. But can I do it? Please note that the ugly podiatrist noted that it would be highly unlikely I would actually "break" it. Also note I have a high pain tolerance...I think.). Weigh in! My fate is in your hands.
Current score:
Do it: 5 (me, my friend's fiancee who is a recently crowned resident, someone who's climbed the mtn and calls it "easy", J, Clark)
Don't do it: 2 (podiatrist, dad)
Situation 1: Broken Ankle
After falling on black ice like the raging klutz that I am, I wait out the weekend before ending up at the trainers. Without even having a chance to shave my leg one last time, I am slapped with a cast and crutches and told I might need crazy surgery and will be out for at least 6 weeks of season. Tears ensue. A day later I see a (hot) orthopedist who also happens to be an ex-lacrosse player and intimately understands the burning desire to participate, at least in part, in my season. He says I definitely will not need surgery, takes my cast off in 3 weeks and allows me to start aerobic exercise before I can even walk properly (still in a boot). With 3 regattas left to go, I'm given the green light to row with a canvas brace. This man understood my priorities; this man worked to get me active.
Situation 2: Stress Fracture in Second Metatarsal
Titles aside (let's be honest, "stress fracture" sounds way more pussy than "broken"), this injury is not all that serious. It hurt at first and it's a pain in the ass (especially since I haven't ponied up for a gym membership yet) because you have to stay off it. So, my (not hot) podiatrist takes an ex-ray and CAN'T SEE ANYTHING (please, remember this for later). Now, for an abbreviated 'he said she said': He says, I think it's a stress fracture, but it could be tendinitis. Well, I say, I am climbing Kilimanjaro at the end of the month, so what can be done. And he says I don't think you can climb a mountain. And I say -- What if this were my job? What is possible? He says, Well, if it's your job, can't someone go in your place? (I start to get pissy). No, it's a start up company, no replacement. [pause] Isn't there anything that might enable me to do this? It's still 3 weeks away. And he goes: Well, if it was the Olympics and it was going to be another four years until you could do this again, then well...
(oh no you didn't)
Then tells me to go get an MRI (tears ensue, I had to skip the Phish concert). MRI, sadly, says I do in fact have a stress fracture. After my massive attitude problem of the day before, he ups the effort a little bit and gives me crutches to help keep the weight off, some creatively cut padding and a bone stimulator (use your imagination. okay, your imagination is wrong and dirty. it's sorta like ultrasound). Then I see him the next week and HE TAKES ANOTHER X-RAY. Guess what? It doesn't show anything. So he says come back on Tuesday (yesterday). And then (wait for it) HE TAKES ANOTHER X-RAY. Guess what? He claims it shows the bone healing. Just barely. What a crock of...
Anyway, then he puts a graphite in-sole in my hiking boot, charges me $135 dollars (Dear Socialized Health Care, I miss you. Love, Stef) and says "If you were doing 6 miles out and 6 miles back...or hiking a day and stopping then it would be okay. But 7 days...I don't think you should do it." Shut up! You just told me I could walk 12 miles and now you are saying I can't do it?
Today, I am allowed to wear my hiking boots instead of the boot (I look very styling. Think female Steve Irwin). So. I'm putting it to a vote. Can I climb this mountain? (note this is "can" not should. I know I shouldn't, please. But can I do it? Please note that the ugly podiatrist noted that it would be highly unlikely I would actually "break" it. Also note I have a high pain tolerance...I think.). Weigh in! My fate is in your hands.
Current score:
Do it: 5 (me, my friend's fiancee who is a recently crowned resident, someone who's climbed the mtn and calls it "easy", J, Clark)
Don't do it: 2 (podiatrist, dad)
Monday, June 15, 2009
The Latin for banana is arienna. Banana tree is pala.
What does it take to get ignored in this city?
I got hollered at twice in the 5 minute time frame that it took me to eat a banana while waiting for a cab. Twice! AND I was on crutches. Who knew that cripples eating fruit was part of a typical Manhattan male's fantasy. I thought that kind of weird sh*t only happened in Jersey.
I got hollered at twice in the 5 minute time frame that it took me to eat a banana while waiting for a cab. Twice! AND I was on crutches. Who knew that cripples eating fruit was part of a typical Manhattan male's fantasy. I thought that kind of weird sh*t only happened in Jersey.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Nobody f*cks with the Jesus
Normally when people run up in my face waving Wachtower literature, I Carl Lewis the other way (fun Brooklyn fact: Jehovah's Witnesses have their logo all over the Heights -- and apparently still own about a dozen buildings in the area).
- BG, WSEEA: No? Oh okay, well the Bible refers to both our Mother God and our Father God yet people only pray to Father God and we believe in both... (more talking about the Bible) ...are you Jewish or Christian?
- ME: I'm neither...or both. One of my parents is Jewish.
- AC: Is your mother Jewish?
- ME (what does that have to do with it? Yes, I know this technically does make me not a Jew, but if they are trying to convert people, really, does it matter?): No, my father is.
- AC: So when you talk to God -
- ME: What if I don't believe in God?
- BG, WSEEA: Do you have a spirit?
- ME: Sure, I have spirit
But what does one do when the people trying to convert you aren't waving pamphlets or wearing orange sarongs? What if the are two normal looking girls, with boring purses and cute sneakers?
While waiting for a ride to come pick me up (note: I am on crutches...I probably looked like easy prey...more on that in the next post), I was approached by two members of the Church of God like this:
- BLOND GIRL, WITH SOME EASTERN EUROPEAN ACCENT: Excuse me, can I ask you a question?
- ME (thinking she wants directions): Sure
-BG, WSEEA: We are just walking around this area and asking different people the same question.
- ME (now thinking it's survey for hair products or something): Okay
- BG, WSEEA: Have you ever hear of Mother God?
- ME (thinking maybe it's some German punk band): Uh, no.
- BG, WSEEA: Yes, that is what everyone says. But you have heard of Father God.
- ME: I haven't heard of Father God either.
- ASIAN CHICK: Well, you know, when you pray, you probably pray to "Our Father who art in Heaven, but if there is a Father in Heaven then there is a Mother in Heaven."
(okay, so now is normally when I would start running or drop an F bomb. But I am trying to increase my tolerance for the "other" and admit - gasp - that maybe I'm not always right and maybe my way isn't the only way. Plus, I have to stand on this corner and wait for my ride, so, I crack the knuckles and prep for spiritual debate. Here is where I wished I had actually read the Bible...as literature. I didn't get much past the first few chapters of Genesis...you know, the chapters where it seems like the telling of two different stories of how the world was created.)
- ME: I don't pray.- BG, WSEEA: No? Oh okay, well the Bible refers to both our Mother God and our Father God yet people only pray to Father God and we believe in both... (more talking about the Bible) ...are you Jewish or Christian?
- ME: I'm neither...or both. One of my parents is Jewish.
- AC: Is your mother Jewish?
- ME (what does that have to do with it? Yes, I know this technically does make me not a Jew, but if they are trying to convert people, really, does it matter?): No, my father is.
- AC: So when you talk to God -
- ME: What if I don't believe in God?
- BG, WSEEA: Do you have a spirit?
- ME: Sure, I have spirit
(this was the wrong answer. It's the true answer - whatever the hell the spirit means...maybe it means I have good jazz hands -- but it definitely steered the conversation back to God. Apparently, if you have a spirit, then you must be spiritual and if you are spiritual then you must believe in god. So it's impossible to be spiritual and not believe in god...right, now I've even confused myself....)
Anyway, I'm tired of writing in conversation form, so the "net net" is that they have a radio station (89.9? Or is that NPR?). And you can tune in to hear the word of Mother God. And they celebrate Passover and the Sabbath on Saturday, not Sunday (no wonder they are going after the Jews...). Next time strangers (or salesmen) accost you on the street, privacy of your own home, etc., see how long YOU can maintain an argument for whatever you believe. Thankfully (for them?), just as I was delving into my own belief system regarding sin (that is to say, maybe coveting thy neighbor is aight by me...) my ride showed up. If I actually knew my Bible, my spirit tells me I could have held out a lot longer.
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