DANCING FOE

Last night was supposed to be a totally different night than how it turned out. I went to my friend, Victoria’s, house to hang out with her and our mutual friend, Lindsay, and wait for our OTHER friend, Rebecca to show up. Rebecca had to work some 30 minutes away and was supposed to get off at 9, then come by and pick us up and we’d go to a haunted house. We were all Very Very Excited About Haunted Housing Together.

Things fell through, Rebecca had to stay later than expected at work, Lindsay and Victoria were sleepy by the time she was on her way, and then it was just too damn late to leave. I was seriously disappointed, I almost felt like crying. This was supposed to be an adventure! A group adventure, not just another one of Rebecca and I’s crazy shennanigans, but something all four of us could experience together and have the painful memories together. Lindsay and Victoria promised they really didn’t care, and we’d do it next weekend. This weekend would still be awesome, I promised myself as Rebecca called to say she’s in the driveway.

I don’t know if any of you have experienced it, but it was a night where you’d end up laughing, no longer out of joy but because it is physically impossible, your body will not let you STOP laughing, until it’s halfway painful spasming and this makes you think the whole situation is even more hilarious. Then you’re curled up into a ball, giggling (without sound anymore because you’ve gone hoarse) and kind of crying at the same time. Yeah, it was one of those nights.

We ended up on the couch, watching What Not To Wear at midnight, and eating various goodies, such as: pizza, taquitos and microwaved chimichangas (I abstained from these two), waffles, rice cakes, jell-o, chocolate chip cookies, Reese’s miniature cups, Twizzlers, and Goldfish crackers. Then Victoria, Rebecca and Lindsay all fell asleep. I was sitting there, with Rebecca’s head laying in my lap, patting her back like she was a baby and suddenly a jolt of pain runs through my right leg, from my toes to my hip.

Oh shit. It keeps getting worse, but I try to focus on Clinton and Stacy’s advice for these women. Finally, it gets to a point where my leg is saying “Lizzy, just give up already, this is NOT happening.” and I can no longer ignore the pain. I have to leave or else I might end up in the ER at six in the morning, writhing in pain.

At one, I gently let Rebecca’s head slide off my legs, call my mom and then gather my things to go home. I make the drive home listening to soft music and trying to press the gas pedal with my left foot instead of my right. I discovered that it’s very strange to use your left foot for the gas, because you end up pressing it WAY harder than you needed. Oh shit. You’re freaking out because that car is a cop car.

Oh no, it’s just a taxi. Whew.