A Week of Firsts or Hoochie Dancing is More Dangerous Than You'd Ever Believe

So I recently took my first kid-free flight for my first visit to New Mexico to be in a dear friend's wedding. While in New Mexico, I was treated to my first massage ever, an 80 -minute affair involving hot stones and oil and a strange sensation that my friend assured me was the normal feeling of relaxation one has during a massage. I also experienced my first mani-pedi combo, my first real sushi platter (yum), and my first hot-air balloon ride, which was amazing and surprisingly gentle at the end. The wedding was beautiful and the bride was breathtaking and the wine was really, really good, and the reception was a ton of fun, even after the DJ gave me a tambourine and a mic (two very gutsy moves on his part). Yes, it was an incredible trip, so much more than I ever could have planned on my own, even though I had another big-deal first on this vacation: my first broken bone.

Man, I wish I had a good story for my first broken bone! I wish I could say that a grizzly bear crashed the reception and started giving a really lame, drunken toast, and I broke my wrist wrestling the mic out of its paw. But no, the truth is, I shattered my wrist hoochie dancing. That's right: Hoochie dancing. I did a high kick, forgetting that my gown did not have a slit up the leg or any give in the hem, and I basically pulled my foot out from under myself, landing on my wrist. Everyone heard a bang and assumed I had hit my head on the cement; what they heard was the sound of my left wrist shattering. The rest of the evening is a jumble of memories: At some point the best man jokingly asked if I was having a seizure; I remember being told that I probably just bruised it; I saw an odd bump on my wrist and got so grossed-out that I passed-out, and then passed-out again when I tried to stand up... My husband carried me to our suite where I spent the rest of the night adjusting an ice pack and not sleeping. It wasn't until the next day, after breakfast (homemade blueberry-pine nut waffles), that I finally dragged my ass into convenience care to learn that my wrist was "pretty much shattered."

I would write more, but these short paragraphs have taken me over an hour to write already. Yeah, this is another first: My first one-handed blog post. Honestly, I thought it would be better. Oh, well. My next one-handed blog will be awesome, I promise. But for now, I'm just letting it go, and I'm giving-in to the Vicodin my lovely doctor prescribed to me.