Thursday, January 28, 2010

Ankles, or How I Fall for Men

Some girls get weak in the knees.  Some swoon over roses.  Some sigh at love letters.  Not me.  Well, maybe the weak knee part.  But my true weakness is in my ankles.  Particularly my left ankle.  Now I'm not entirely sure why you would need to know that my ankles are weak, but after literally falling for a guy I feel you should know why I fall for men.  Or women sometimes.  It is because my ankle likes to not support my weight.  It is very not nice of it.

There are no fewer than seven men that I have fallen for in the most literal sense.  I have a habit of falling for them at in-opportune times as well.  For instance the one that I fell for most recently has yet to serve a mission.  And the one before that was already married.  And I do believe that at least one of the men I have fallen for was about three times my age.  None of which are viable prospect for me at this time in my life.

In order to truly understand my falling for men that can never be my one, one must understand my acquiring the ability to fall for them with out trying.  In order to do this we must look back through the history of my life.  The beginning of my troubles was many moons ago, when I was only eight.  Of course at that point in my life, I doubt my family had the internet, let alone did I ever know that I would be writing about this story to complete strangers.  But I was eight, and I cared more about books than computers or television or athletic activities.  I did love the outdoors though.  And one Monday evening in the summer my family was on the way to a park to have a picnic dinner and toss a baseball around.  I was given charge of the baseball bat.  It was a high quality solid wood bat.  I was eight. It was heavy.  I dropped it on my ankle.  And thus began the series of unfortunate events that ended most recently with me falling for my young co-worker.

Beginnings are usually followed by middles.  And the middle of this story happened about eight years later.  At 16 I was far more interested in books and the internet than anything outdoorsy.  I quit attempting to run a mile when I discover that I could walk a mile only taking 25% longer than running it.  But one can not allow a younger sister show you up.  So when my eight year old sister challenged me to a race I raced.  She fell, I tripped over her and sprained my ankle pretty bad.  Like I couldn't walk on it, had it elevated for a week bad.  For the record I was wearing running shoes and jeans.  Did I sprain my ankle while running after my rambunctious brother? No.  And that day I was wearing heels and a floor-length formal gown.  Of course I sprained my ankle while wearing sensible clothing.  I sprained my ankle twice more before my 17th birthday.

Since the third sprain as a teenager I have done little more than twist my ankle when I step in a hole, nothing too serious.  At least not until the fourth sprain happened.  This sprain will live in my memory as the time I collapsed and sprained my ankle while discussing majors with a good friend of mine.  I was simply standing talking to him.  And then my ankle gave out and I was on the floor.  Quite embarrassing let me tell you.  Thankfully I was able to walk on it a little bit and was able to walk to my apartment two flights of stairs above where I was when it happened.  Unfortunately the gentleman I was speaking to was not the gentleman I was interested in at the time, and therefore I declined any help up the stairs. Of course I've never actually managed to fall for the man I'm interested in, unless you count ice skating.  But that was a different boy and on ice, not a result of my poor ankle strength.

So if I ever fall for you, don't be flattered.  My ankle just gave out.  Or possibly my knee, but I can usually keep my balance for that one.  But offer your help anyway.  I may decline, but if you don't offer I will complain about this to my roommates later.  One should never witness anyone fall without stopping to make sure they are all right.

Love Always,
The Less Than Sane


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