My blogging buddy Michelle put up a challenge yesterday at her site, Blessed Quiver, that I can't resist. Even at 11:30 p.m. when I haven't wandered upstairs to do my treadmill slavery yet.
She chose some prompts at Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop (and yes, it killed me to type cat with a K) and asked if anyone could get something out of this collection:
1.) You’re so vain. You probably think this post is about you…don’t you?
2.) Tell us about your trip!
3.) A difficult conversation.
4.) Can you almost stop time with your words? Write about the fastest ride you ever had, but describe only a few seconds of it…as though it was happening to slow motion.
5.) Who blind-sided you? Write about a time someone caught you totally off guard.
OK, #4 ain't happening. It sickens me to think of all that writing creativity and when I get done, I've described nothing useful. But you want to know about my trip? Well, OK, here's my famous one:
Same camera, same position. Different location.
I was walking across a parking lot in a little quaint shopping area in San Diego where we were killing time before our dinner reservations. My friends and I had split up because they wanted to hunt for Beanie Babies as I recall, and I just wanted to wander around. Like a good tourist, I had my camera around my neck. The Nikon. The one that cost more money than I want to confess to my husband that I spent.
Suddenly I saw one of our friends on the other side of the complex, so I headed toward him, waving my hand and yelling, "Mike!" WHAM! My face was kissing cement. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I tripped over a knee-high barrier. Let that soak in for a moment. Not a pebble or an uneven surface. Not a parking bump, or a log but a big, yellow barrier twice the size of my dog. It takes a special kind of oblivious to make that mistake.
People came running from every direction. Shop owners left their cash registers to see if I needed someone to call 9-1-1. I was woozy, and hearing their advice about a concussion from what sounded like the next state over. When 150 pounds goes splat so quickly you don't even have time to register that you're falling ... well, it's a miracle I didn't break my neck. Not to mention the gentleman I was hailing was a total stranger.
But the really stupid part? Although my brain didn't think fast enough to warn me a hard surface was approaching and it would be prudent to brace myself, it priortized enough to protect the camera. My head took a beating because my hands had pulled the camera out, up and away from danger. Which I suppose was only right. I could take an aspirin for my pains. The camera could not.