murphy's law

as you probably have noticed, i have not posted any pictures of the house, because i forgot to take my camera to the inspection. i'm a bad blogger.  bad melissa!  so instead here's a picture of a tv abandoned on main street in bristow--what is this about, anyway, an abandoned tv on main street, how does that even happen--that jake and i totally wanted to take and put a fish tank in but we didn't have room in the back of the jeep that day so instead i circled the block and made jake wait while i took pictures:

***

sunday jake, aislinn and i went to meet our friends matt and jessalynn for brunch at kilkenny's. it was the perfect sort of sunday.  we slept in (which these days is anything past 7:00 a.m., which is remarkable in that just a year ago i could sleep as late as 7:00 p.m. on a sunday, depending on the events of the night before), and then i went in to work for a while to get some stuff done, and then i came home to a sunny, half-packed house, dressed aislinn, and headed off with jake to cherry street.

when we made plans to meet at kilkenny's we didn't know that the tulsa 1/2 marathon would be going on, so it was an incredible hassle to actually get to cherry street with all of the streets blocked off.

we got there and had a great brunch and conversation.  we ordered the chese torte with sundried tomatoes, pesto, and goat cheese (is that irish?  more like italian).  jake had the breakfast boxty with his favorite franziskaner hefeweizen (definitely german), and i went with the corned beef and cabbage and a guinness (there we go!).  

(i love guinness.  here is a picture of some guinness that i took in ireland.  "drink me, as i am your friend, and i will make you happy," sayeth the guinness.)

a more perfect photograph was never taken, don't you agree?

they say you can tell what country a person is from by the number of rings left in their empty guinness glass.  if that's the case, i'm definitely irish.  three rings for me--not like these american teetotalers with their 15 rings and their watery pale lagers.  pfft.

and here's a picture of me in ireland that i'm posting just because i came across it on my external hard drive when i was looking for the picture of that guinness glass and hey! look! i used to be skinny!

***

after brunch at kilkenny's, jake and i went next door to the peace of mind bookstore because i wanted some new incense for the new house.  the peace of mind bookstore is everything i love about a business all wrapped into one: local, original, eclectic (very eclectic), smells good, interesting, and did i mention local.  it's in the middle of the block sandwiched by kilkenny's and aquarian age massage, which is also one of my favorite places.  you just have to go check it out. it's like you stepped right into 1969.  where else in tulsa can you get a massage from a woman in a tie-dye dashiki in a room that smells like 25 years' worth of nag champa?  

actually, yeah, don't answer that.

ANYWAY, for those of you not in the know, the bookstore and the spa are kind of one and the same, bookstore on the second story and spa on the first, connected by a bizarre labrynth of wooden staircases and twists and turns.  the bookstore doesn't have a credit card machine so if you're not paying with cash, they take you down to the spa to run your card.

long story short, jake needed to pay with a card so he followed the guy down to the store and left me up in the bookstore.  i decided to follow them, so when the guy got back i asked him to take me down, too.  i was carrying aislinn in her carseat, where she'd been sleeping, and as i stepped down off the very last step of the several winding twisting staircases into the dark hallway by the sauna, i totally missed the last step and laid myself out flat.

luckily the way i fell, i just kind of sat the carseat down on the floor as i went down, so aislinn barely even woke up.  but i knew immediately my left ankle was in bad shape. the bookstore guy just kind of stood there on the staircase landing above me looking freaked out.  not that i really blame him.

i really wanted to just burst out into tears but instead i took a deep breath and was like, "um, okay, can you go get my husband and ask him to come back here when he's done checking out?"  the guy like raced past me, and comes back into the hallway with jake, who raised his eyebrows like, "alarm! alarm! woman and baby on floor!  what in the name of guinness is going on!"  

i said, "okay, i fell, i'm okay, but i hurt my ankle, i need you to pick up the carseat and help me up," and he did.  i was wearing leather loafers which was lucky (there's a little alliteration for you) because it was easy to slide onto my already swelling foot.  i limped out onto cherry street and jake helped me across 15th, through all of the lithe, spandex-clad runners with their unsprained ankles.  no, no, not a bit embarassing.

by the time we got home my left ankle looked a giant golf ball.  i took a painkiller and i don't even think it ever kicked in.  and then to add insult to injury, i started getting a migraine because of the ONE glass of guinness that i'd had for lunch (guinness has the same compounds in it as red wine when it comes to triggering migraines - most of the time i can dodge it, but yesterday i gambled and lost).

so yeah, i'm home today, laid up with a bum ankle and one gigantic headache.

please, god, if i can just make it through this move on saturday alive and not destitute, i think it'll be a success.