Yesterday, on the way to meet Chapman for a delightful afternoon of shopping before rehearsal, I bravely ventured out of my deliciously warm apartment and decided I didn't want to take a tram up to Dam Square. I wrestled with my bike lock for a few minutes, successfully awoke it from its frigid slumber, and headed up the Overtoom.
Now. There is something you may not have read in your local papers. But it's big news. HUGE. Amsterdam had 3 inches (errr...7.62 centimeters...) of snow the past few days!! People are going ape shit! Little kids are carrying snowballs like baby birds in damp little mittened paws, 30-somethings are slippin and sliding gleefully over bridges, taxi drivers are driving the speed limit...IT'S LOCO.
Back to the story of my downfall (literally): I was 90% done with my trip. I had carefully navigated several slush puddles when I got to the tricky leg: the Leidseplein (where Boom is located). Tram tracks, taxi lines, tourists OH MY.
I was about 4 meters behind a delivery truck (a big white van reminiscent of a kidnapper-mobile) when IT happened. A group of tourists crossed in front of him. He slammed on the brakes. I squeeled "SHITT FUCK SHIITTTTTTT" as I also backpedaled, slamming my left shoulder into his back end, tumbling into the icy gutter, HEAD OVER HANDLEBARS. If it didn't hurt/shock me so much I would have sprung to my feet and done a Rocky dance. Legit spillage.
About a dozen witnesses crowded around me, a dude rotated my handlebars back to their original position, and asked me if I was ok. I shamefully pushed my bike over to the theater and pouted as I iced my knee for the next 2 hours. Ironically, retail therapy would have made me feel a lot better.
***
It still hurts. And my right knee has puffed up and turned every color of the rainbow. I'm gonna look BATTERED in my NYE outfit. No kiss for me, me thinks.
i gotta go stir my stew
xxx, jess
i burned my stew. :(
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