PlazaJen: Passion Knit

Well, it's hard to break into Olympic sports as an overweight, short 36 year old with no athletic skills or even inclinations. But that won't stop me. I had my first floor performance today outside in front of the building, and I just thank the dear DNA within me that have, at the very least, made me double-jointed or flexible, whichever is more accurate. I slipped on some very slippery tile/rock, and went down like a sack of potatoes leaving the back of a semi. Let's slow-mo it for our listeners: first, I had just poured a full cup of coffee. Black. Hot. Little cup. In my right hand. I saw some people I knew (I don't even remember who I was heading for anymore) and stepped in their direction, leading with my right foot. My right foot did not stop. It just kept sliding. I saw the coffee leaving the cup, and as I tried desperately to anchor myself with my left foot, the coffee splashed everywhere, and unfortunately, my left foot was also on the slippery tile section. (there's a decorative "ring" around the circle drive, and the brilliant architects & contractors thought, hey, so it's slicker than snot if it's wet? who cares! The cars won't lose traction because it's a pretty narrow band! And nobody walks anymore, walking is OVER rated. It'll be fine!) So left foot went shoop! and I went down on my left knee & the whole leg did one of those crazy-ass bend-way back like you used to do to your Barbies. I would like to point out I was wearing thick rubber-soled shoes, not Barbie shoes, too. Sensible. Not falling down sort of shoes. Anyway, a long long time ago we did this sort of thigh stretch before running where you have one leg straight out & the other one is bend & your foot is pressed back to your side, while you lie down? yes, that is the position I was in. In a dress. With people hovering now, worried, let's help you up. You just sort of wish you could lie there for an hour, and be invisible. I did take my time getting up, doing one of those remote "check? check!" things with my body because the crack I heard from my knee made me think I'd broken my leg.
Eventually I got myself to the doctor, thanks to KRISTIN who is the greatest & will forgive me for not linking her name right now because I'm on Celebrex and really tired. It's a torn ligament but not Scary Torn, because that would require surgery & would have also forced me to scream at my doctor out of pain, given the movements she was doing with my knee. I love my doctor. However, if it still gives me pain next week, I will go to the "industrial doctor" so any further measures are covered under workman's comp. Good lord. Today I feel very old and creaky, and more committed to taking some of the pounds off of me, because the larger the mass of the object hurtling towards the ground, the greater the impact! Now, I think I am going to go home and do some sleeping.
And then I'll start planning my gymnastics routine. I've only got four years to put it together, and it's got to be good. We're talking Will Ferrell in Old School good. Perhaps I'll knit my own ribbon for the floor routine.