what's next?

So I've started a blog for multiple reasons. First of all, my roommate has an awesome blog. I love reading her rants, even though nine times out of ten, I've already heard the story in person. It just seemed like a really good idea. Of course, I'm no where close to the writer that she is, but this brings me to my second reason. I like the idea that there will be documentation of all the stupid things I sometimes think about and then promptly forget about. Next year, am I going to remember about my stupid curling iron burn? Probably not. Unless it scars, which is looking like a distinct possibility. It's been over a week, and I can still clearly see the letters...

Then again, I seem to do a lot of stupid shit that I clearly remember. Or not so clearly, as the case may be. I'm a bit accident-prone. I've managed to injure myself in an assortment of entertaining ways over the past few years. They make my curling iron burn seem minor.

For starters, not many people can say they've been out on worker's comp within 3 months of starting a new job. Last October, my district had ever so kindly given us new PCs for the classroom. And left them in the box right under the dry erase board. Aparently, I forgot it was there, because I was working out a problem on the dry erase board in my classroom, took a big step back and gracefully tumbled over it. There is no emotion to compare with eating it right in front of twenty-four 12 and 13 year olds. After I fell, I sat on the floor in agony for a few seconds, trying to figure out what I should do, because I was in EXCRUTIATING pain. At first the kids kinda laughed, then when they saw I wasn't getting up, they got really quiet. After a rare moment of pure silence, one kid pipes up from the back of the classroom, "Miss, you dead?"

Six weeks and one knee surgery later, I was able to reclaim my classroom.

My favorite random injury, though, involves a concussion and a pine cone. Last Easter, I went to visit my brother's family in San Diego. While there, we went to Balboa Park. (Think Hermann Park - museums, gardens, ampitheatre, near the zoo, but waaaay prettier...) Balboa Park has these huge pine trees. At least 80 feet high. I was innocently walking under these huge trees, and with no warning whatsoever, a pine cone fell and hit me on the top/back of the head. I seriously thought I'd been clubbed by a baseball bat or something. It wasn't until I regained conciousness a few seconds later and my mother picked up a bloody pinecone that we figured out what had happened.
I kept the pine cone. No one believes me until they see it. I's not particularly large, but the damn thing is heavy. I had a headache for weeks.

I really need to learn to watch my step.