Scottsdale Trip Notes 2

6 Sep

I’m alive… sort of. It was lovely. Swimming, eating, drinking; swimming, eating, drinking; swimming, eating, drinking… a bit of shopping thrown in for good measure.

Double crazy-eyes! Drunk swim madness!

The gift shop at Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art

Mimosas at Orange Table

More drunken pool debauchery. Casey was a perfect lady the whole time, I might add. DJB and Q, however... tooootally different story.

 Trip synopsis: Life is very, very good

Monday morning. Departure time. I was very excited to help pack up the car and head to Sedona for lunch. My first Sedona trip — woo! I loaded myself up with bags, headed downstairs, placed the bags by the car, stood up and… YARRRRRRGH!!!!… horizontal lightning bolt of pain across lower back. Evil! It was bad. Really bad. I could barely walk. I couldn’t climb the stairs and return to the air-conditioned condo. I was stuck.

Fortunately, DJB had the good sense to insist I report immediately to the hot tub and pool. He got me inside, changed me into a bikini (couldn’t undress or dress without help; embarrassing!), walked me to the pool and helped me into the water. So good. Was able to stretch like crazy whilst alternating heat and cold. Good call, fiancé.

The cutest part about this whole part of the story is this: the only way I could walk without being in searing pain was to hunch over, tuck my booty under (the c-shape thing, ya’ know?) and shuffle slowly. This made me look like a 98-year-old woman. Imagine this in a bikini. So, so, sooooo NOT seksi. FML! I also looked really cute in the booty-hugging cut-off shorts I wore pre- and post-swim. And by “really cute,” I mean like some crackhead hillbilly grandma shuffling around in daisy dukes, trying to look hot. EXTRA-STUPID. It was Humility Monday for your girl, for sure. 

Then, my luck changed. We’d just left the condo, heading for Sedona. I’m still hurting so much that we need to hit a drugstore for Thermacare wraps and sh*t. We cruised the interstate, seeking Walgreens. Nothing. Ahhhhh… hell times. Target sign. That’ll do. What’s next to muthaf**kin’ Target: DSW. That’s Designer Shoe Warehouse, if you’ve been living under a rock for the last 15 years or so. 

Angels sang. DJB helped me out at the curb then parked the car. Though still in pain and experiencing spasms every 5 – 15 minutes, I tucked my ass under and slowly shuffled my way right into that shoe Mecca. Hell or high water, henny! 

Naturally, I didn’t try on any heels. I may have been foolish enough to be in there in the first place, but I staunchly refused to even look at the heels. I found some flats, dahling. Yes, the f-word. I did it. Shut up. 

Blur by Big Buddha

Indeed, I totally went shoe shopping in miserable pain. I don’t care if I have a problem; leave me alone. Through it all, DJB remained by my side. Now that’s a good man. He’s so fab that I want to slap him, but I should give his poor face a break after the marriage proposal smack-down. 

Ultimately, we drove through Sedona, but didn’t stop. Didn’t want to anger the injury gods too much. Shoe shopping and shuffling around a tourist town would’ve been pushing it. It was lovely. We’ll head back soon. 

Sedona

Home safe. Slept better than I have in weeks. Pain’s improved a bit, but still super-granny. Whatevs… it’ll heal.

OK, there’s the weekend wrap-up. Hope yours was fabulous! 

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One Response to “Scottsdale Trip Notes 2”

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Ed. Note: Ouch. | Come Correct: The Blog - July 23, 2013

    […] readers of this blog might remember the Scottsdale back nightmare/granny shuffle. That was a walk (no pun intended) in the park compared to this fiasco. Narrowly avoided an […]

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