Pied a terre
While I began my detoxification only a little over 24 hours ago, I have got to hand it to people who have
real addictions. I lay off the sauce for a day or two and I'm hurtin'. Why? Why why why!?! And in addition to this "laying off" jazz, I'm also restricting my diet to fruits, vegetables, and liquids only. Liquids meaning Emergen-C, Vitamin Water, tea, coffee, water, and milk. I figure this is how to speed-detox. So that I can strike up the band again this weekend. Wait - did I just say that out loud!?! What!?!
I have thoroughly fucked up my ankle, on top of all this detox drama. On Tuesday night, I sprinted home in a pair of 2 inch heels (which is slight for someone like me - I have an arsenal of 3"+), and I'm pretty sure I kicked my right ankle with my left foot with the force of thirty minutemen and a stampede of oxen. There's also a ginormous wound, gaping and blinking at me on my heel. This has required band-aids, the swollenness has required ibuprofen. So, basically, my right foot has gone to pot. They'll have to amputate it, drive me to wearing wide-legged linen pants for the rest of my days, hobbling around, being mistaken for a diabetic junkie. I'll purchase a close-out plastic leg, make pirate jokes, and pretty much pull the glass-eye-pop-out trick, but with my hideously obvious fake leg, which might be even more traumatic to those who (a) love me (b) hate me or (c) are under the age of 15.
Pray for my foot's sole...
2005-08-04 | 3:28 p.m.
