More on that gravity thing

Actually, does anyone remember that Garfield and Friends episode where the rooster convinces someone (if there was a crazy duck on the show, it was probably him) that they repealed the law of gravity and they sang a song about it?

Anyways, yesterday, one of my fears proved to be a totally rational one when I fell off the back of a bike. Ok, so it's actually happened before, but I'm wearing band-aids now and people [who know me] keep asking what happened to my face. People who don't seem to be following a better code of etiquette than I do or have much better things to think about, because I always ask things like that.

But whatever, yesterday I was running a bit late to my class at the #1 school because I opted for the bus, which is in a random classroom on the far end of the campus that I didn't even know existed all last semester. I teach my Sunday morning kids class on Saturdays now in that classroom. I was crossing the soccer field (I think) and saw one of the kids' moms, who was presumably scouting for me, and she offered to take me the rest of the way on her bike. I was concerned, because the rest of the way involves a gradient that it's almost scary to run down, but I thought what the heck it might be fun. And it was, at first. When we got to the bottom of the hill though, the bike started swerving and tilting a lot, and I didn't know really what to make of it... I thought I might fall, so decided I'd better jump, but whatever really happened, I fell face-first into the concrete. Well, yeah, so I broke the fall with the palm of one hand and the knuckles of the other (hence the bandages). And since my legs were pretty much straight when I made contact, and I was wearing jeans, I got by with a small skinned bruise on one of my knees. My big ol' purse must have padded me in some way, though I can't even guess how, and I skinned my cheekbone. I went in and taught, and felt kinda nasty because I couldn't point to anything without giving my students an eyeful of bloody shredded sores, but I figured they were used to it. The mom kept asking me if it still hurt, and of course it stang, but really-- really-- I just told her how it is: I fall all the time. Period. At this point, it's managed to confound my daily routine quite a bit though, because those injuries are in just the places you really need to put your hair into a pony tail efficiently/successfully, and it's hard to wash chopsticks/any other dishes, so I'm running out of all those things. And I have something very much like whiplash, but only in my left arm, and I can't even begin to tell you why that would be.

Anyways, a little story to add to all the rest.