Pong

Okay, so here's the deal. I know it's absolutely pathetic, but I have to make a confession: I have weak ankles. Do you remember the part in Disney's Hercules when Meg sticks her foot in Herc's face and says, "Do you have any problems with things like this? Weak ankles, I mean." Yeah, that's totally me, except I do that in a completely non-flirtatious, "Hey everybody look at that idiot over there," kind of way.

Here's the story. So, two months ago (that's May, for those of you keeping track) I went to the Hart Gym with two of my roommates and our FHE brother to play some sports and get away from our apartments. We get there and can't decide what sport we want to play, and after an intense discussion in which no working-out was accomplished, we decided to take the easy way out and play ping-pong. Completely safe and harmless, right?

Ha. That's a good one.

I am usually a decent ping-pong player, but that night was, well, not a good one for me and that particular game. We played for a long time, and I lost repeatedly. Things were not looking good for me: I should have taken this for a sign.

And then, one of my friends smacked the ball as hard and far as they possibly could, sending it clear across the HUGE gym we were playing in. And I, being the kind-hearted person that I typically am, went after it. Then, disaster struck.

I wish this was some dramatic moment when I had been hit in the head with a runaway basketball and fell right into the open and welcoming arms of my true love, but it wasn't. Nope, I crouched down to retrieve the ball all too quickly, twisted my ankle into an extremely uncomfortable position, and collapsed onto the cold, non-prince-charming floor of the gym. Perfect.

But I shake it off, right, because that's what you're supposed to do when you fall down. I grabbed the ball and ran back to my game, laughing about my stupidity and trying to hide the great amount of pain I was in.

When I got back to my friends, my ankle hurt so much that I couldn't stand on it anymore. Now, you've gotta understand that I usually turn my ankles at least once in any sport that I play, but it hadn't hurt this much in a very long time. I sat on the floor and started rotating it, but even that killed!

When my roomies were finished playing, I limped home with them and thought nothing about my injured ankle expect for a hope that it would feel better in the morning. It didn't, but I didn't pay attention to it, and eventually I forgot I'd hurt it.

But now to the main point of the story. It is now July (two months later, just so we're clear) and my ankle hurts like the dickens! (and I can totally say that because I'm an English major) I have never had this much pain in my ankle. And the worst part is that I can't just ignore it like I usually do, because it won't go away and it just keeps getting more painful by the day! Grah!

It's wrapped and all that jazz, but it hurts to walk on or move in any direction. It's not swollen or anything like that, but it's definitely bugging the heck out of me.

Does anybody have any miracle cures for a twisted ankle? Or perhaps a better story for me to tell than, "I twisted my ankle playing the dangers and sometimes fatal sport of ping-pong." I mean, who's going to take me seriously now?

Great Day!

So, I know it's only 7:45 a.m., but I just have to write and say that I am having a surprisingly good day so far. Nothing spectacular has happened to me or anything like that, but I just feel really happy for no good reason. I mean, I woke up twenty minutes earlier than I normally do, putting me twenty minutes ahead of schedule so I have time to do stuff like eat breakfast and blog like I never get to do.

Oh, I almost forgot, I've got another great book reccommendation, well, it's acutally two books, but they're by the same author so this totally counts. Alright the first book is called The Icing on the Cake. This book is adorable, unpredictable, and absolutely hilarious! A must-read if you love to laugh. Elodia Strain's second book, Previously Engaged, is equally funny, and both are terriffic books!

Pre-Finals Jitters

So here we are at the end of another wonderful semester at BYU-Idaho, and with that comes and of the joys of freedom and all of the bondage of finals. Oh goody. Well, technically finals aren't until next week, however pre-finals week is sometimes worse than the actual finals week because of all of the hype. That's right, hype.

Professors are the worst, you know that? They have this fantastic way of making your freak out about your grades and your GPA and your life and your future and the future success of every venture you'll ever make in your whole life because everything in the world rides on this test! AAaah!

Talk about pressure.

Plus there's the question of what the heck am I going to do after the semester ends? I'll move home and completelly jobless and boyless. Not that I have any boys to speak of at the moment, but there will be considerably less boys back at home.

Let the stressing begin!

Oh, lets not forget to mention the fact that I've just recently submitted my manuscript to a new place and they should get back to me within a month or so. *gulp* I hate waiting on pins and needles, but that's what I get for wanting to be an author.

What kind of stupid decision was that for someone slightly impatient?

Code Of Honor

Just an update from my last post about Besty Brannon Green's book Code of Honor. That book was absolutely incredible. I finished it in a day and a half, and I could think of absolutely nothing else until I had finished reading it! Amazing!! But now the problem is that I am still obsessed with Dane and Savannah and can't get out of their world. I guess it'll take a few days to adjust back to my normal non-military-affiliated life. *sigh*
Oh well, now I guess I'll just have to focus all of my literary excitement toward my own novels which are severely lacking in the attention department. I've got some great ideas, now I just need to make time to write them all down.