Nutcase 101

As you know, B and I traveled to Florida to visit my family for Christmas (more on that in another post) and to break up the long trip, we stopped in New Orleans.

We both LOVE New Orleans: the charm, history, ghosts, food, people, etc.. And, I love it so much that I was kissing the pavement not once but twice on our two trips. I kept my falling to one per trip but I did do both tumbles on the same street, you know for consistencies sake.

The last fall was the most spectacular. I had just pulled up to the hotel because I had driven the leg from Florida to NOLA. The valet opened my car door and I went to exit my vehicle. A dangerous maneuver that I had successfully completed hundreds of times. Actually, I was batting a 1000 on graceful car exits.

I knew that I was going to bite it when I felt the shoelace to my sneaker become ensnared in some bolt, contraption, OH WHO THE HELL KNOWS on something between the seat and frame of my car. And as oncoming traffic sat at the nearby light and tourists walked by, I said a very personal hello to the asphalt of Poydras Street.

Poor B thought his wife was going to be car fodder but I was smart enough to roll towards the wheels so that oncoming traffic wouldn’t get Nutcase all over their tires. Yes, people, I was almost Louisiana Road Kill. Out of nowhere there was a swarm of people around me, all wanting to help. Thankfully, I was helped up and brushed myself off. Nothing was broken.

Once in the hotel room, I examined the damage. Without tearing or getting blood on my clothing, I was able skin up my knees and elbow better than most kindergartners. Also, I have a couple of good size goose eggs on my shins – I thought you could only get those things on your noggin, boy was I wrong. My body is no longer a glaring shade of white, that I had been so proud of, now I’m various hues of purple, black and blue. My body is now a lovely shade of bruised.

Now that it’s a day later and my body has fully reacted to my grace, my arms and legs are stiff from catching myself. I am INCREDIBLY grateful to my cache of drugs and I’m sure my doctor is going to be thrilled over my latest escaped.

And with that I’ll sign off because I’m pooped, strained, sprained, swollen and a whole lot of sore.

It’s haircut day for Nutcase!

It’s only been about four months since my last haircut, which for me is a record. Why? Because I’m known for going about a year to 18 months between trims. Especially when I forget about my hair. But, I’m better and I’ve been reformed. You’d also think as the daughter of a hairdresser that I would’ve known better.

I do need your opinions on the color. I haven’t colored my hair in about three years, only getting highlights, and I’m wanting something different. Opinions welcome!

And, yes, I need to work on not cutting off the top of my head.

The hair is gone. Six inches. Gone. AND I LOVE IT!

I’m officially Mrs. B and I officially have gotten really lost in Houston.

I’ve only had to visit the DMV office twice before in this fine city and I noticed there was one much closer to our current residence. Close enough to be able to go at lunch if I were to work from home. Like I was today. The office was packed when I got there but the fine state workers had a nifty system going and people were flying through the various lines. In and out in about an hour. I was overjoyed.

Then the REAL fun started.

As I left with my last name officially changed, I realized that I had to exit the parking lot on the opposite side than where I entered. Okay, take a right instead of left. Oh wait, the right way is blocked. Okay, left it is. Ummmmm…where is there a road to turn left again? There. No. Doesn’t cut through. What’s this road? Why am I in a very industrial area? I can’t see an interstate. There was an interstate somewhere. How do I lose an interestate???

YAY! Interstate.

Ooops. I got on the one going in the wrong direction. This doesn’t lead to our apartment. Wait, isn’t this the area of town B told me to NEVER GET OFF THE INTERSTATE in?

Keep driving.

I see semi-safe looking exit.

Turn around.

Thirty minutes later…get home.

Breathe.