I ought to come with caution tape

OH MY GOD. It's mid-October and I've barely posted for the latter half of this year and I'm having mild panic attacks about everything that is going on until December is over. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm going to breathe a gigantic sigh of relief come 2010. I feel pulled in so many directions and would happily dismember myself if that would mean getting more done, but I'm afraid you'd just find all of those pieces rolled into several separate fetal positions, unrolling intermittently to take long, healing sips of tequila.

BUT! I'm pretty happy as I received the shoes that I'm going to wear for Angie's wedding today and they are A-MAZING. I mean really - I'll be over six feet tall in them which brings me unparalleled joy. And also greatly increases my chances of severe physical injury, but I'll at least look good whilst being wheeled into the ER.

We had bachelorette party #2 for Ang this weekend which meant that the girls and gays converged on a spa in the Castro (called Hand Job! which begs for some puns but I'm just too tired. Someone else take that) and then proceeded to be very, VERY loud at a restaurant, Limon, in San Francisco. I was seated at a banquette, surrounded on several sides by people and decided that the most efficient way to get in and out would be to go under the table because I'm breathtakingly dexterous. Why go through these gymnastics, you ask? Well, I had forgotten to don my Stadium Gal and my bladder was shouting, "ATTEND! ATTEND!" and I'm nothing if not obedient.

I managed to get in and out with little damage to either myself or the table, which is somewhat miraculous. I teetered down the stairs with my friend Jason behind me, because ladies always go to the bathroom together. I suppose I'm a more efficient pee'er than he is, or he got distracted by his reflection in the mirror - hard to say. Either way, he finally came out and we strolled down the hall to go back upstairs to the party, me in the lead and Jason behind.

Let me start by mentioning that Limon has a polished concrete floor, which looks fabulous. I turned to tell Jason this, because the gleam of the lights off of the floor was really quite fetching. As I turned, my left heel sort of bent to the right and in a spectacular combination of blond hair, legs and arms, I flew a few feet to the right and landed with a sickening thud at Jason's feet. He looked down at me in shock and squealed, "GIRL! What are you DOING? NOT CUTE!" I popped back up, grabbed his arm and said, "HOLY SHIT!" and then rushed up the stairs. Once we were back under the table and in our seats and Jason had relayed what had just transpired to everyone who would listen he said to me, "I'm sure no one saw...you got up so FAST!" To which I replied, "I'M OVER SIX FEET IN THESE HEELS AND I FELL IN FRONT OF THE OPEN KITCHEN. I think EVERYONE saw!"

But that's okay since in my long, tedious line of falls, that one really wasn't the most memorable.
Though the bruises along my upper thigh and on my knee beg to differ. Also, I can't use my left hand - I've been typing this entry with my right index finger since Sunday. Also, I keep hobbling away from Marc who wants to slap a leech on my bruises to see if it will quicken the healing process. Also, where is that healing tequila?