My hips are misaligned. The left hip is higher than the right hip, which is why I keep injuring the right hip. Jack, my physical therapist, assures me that while I'm doing everything right--warming up for effin' 45 minutes before every workout--he'll need to do some manual manipulation, etc., in order to set my hips straight again. I'm to see him twice a week for at least 6 weeks and I absolutely cannot run in the meantime. No, not even a little bit. Not even if I'm doped up on Motrin and pain free. And three miles will, most certainly, be just as bad as nine miles.
I will defer to Jack's superior knowledge of physical therapy.
I will also occasionally burst into tears at the sight of people running on the long line of treadmills at the gym, to the great horror and dismay of my trainer-friends.
They will give me pep talks and I will get over it.
In other, non-hip related news, I've recused myself from that wedding I was supposed to attend next weekend. I never divulged the details of the nuptials, so here goes: my paternal cousin is marrying a man who was handpicked by my maternal cousin as a potential match for me. I refused to pursue the lead, which terribly upset my mother so that, several weeks later, she threw in the proverbial towel and announced that she'd tell my cousin to put the man in touch with my aunt in Michigan whose daughter was on the market. She paused briefly after making the announcement. I took the opportunity to pat her on the back and tell her that she had a wonderful idea.
This isn't what she wanted to hear.
After a couple of months of meeting under the supervision of their families, my former potential match and my paternal cousin are getting married. The maternal cousins--some of the very same cousins who gave me the talk about biological urges a coupl of months ago--will be in attendance. As much as I'd like to have shared in my cousin's happiness, I refuse to be the fresh veggie bologna trapped between stale and moldy slices of bread for even just a weekend. Or something like that, anyway.
9 comments:
The "stale and moldy slices of bread" are your maternal cousins I'm guessing; I sure hope they don't read your blog!
Are we being screened now!
born in libya.. hmm just like Nadia Ali
Except, much more beautiful, and less of a ho...
Who's Nadia Ali?
So, you think you're above everyone else and thus won't go to their wedding? You're a biatch, who will be single forever if you dont get an attitude adjustment.
I assume they mean the woman who sings the lyrics for 'rapture'. I personally think you are far more elegant, witty, sensually magnificent and all-around lovelier than almost ANY woman out there. But hey, that's just me....
'Lost in translation'
SHE'S CENSORING, PEOPLE!!!!!
haha.
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