April 6, 2005

stairwell accompaniment:The Killers

So this is what happens when Schmanda and I spend an unusual amount of time together: we pass from the realm of relevant conversations and updates on our lives, our thoughts, our feelings and relationships and into useless facts and random information that make each other laugh. Today Schmanda and I were sunbathing on the back patio. It was noon and neither of us had brushed our teeth or remedied our bedhead. I took this golden opportunity to tell her about a recurring dream I have been having.
But first, allow me to give some backgroud:
In two weeks Schmanda, Josh and I are flying to California to camp, climb and hike in Sequoia National park for a week. The three of us are lovers of the outdoors and enjoy climbing. I used to climb regularly until a little over a year ago when two events discouraged my climbing career: my die-hard partner moved to a different state and I began doing massage therapy full-time. So for the past year my climbing time has diminised to nearly-nothing. Schmanda and Josh, on the other hand, have spent much time the past few months at the Krag clinging to the walls–and both are excellent climbers. In fact, just a couple of weekends ago they made an excursion to the Red in KY for some outdoor climbing/camping. So, not only am I slightly discouraged by the fact that my two traveling companions are far more prepared physically for this climbing adventure, I am also nervous about the care of my hands and arms. As a massage therapist, it’s unacceptable for me to endure ANY injuries to my upper extremities. I need to be extra cautious for the sake of my income. So…
Today I told Schmanda that I’ve been having this recurring dream that while we are in California I break my arm. Each time I have the dream it is the exact same climbing scenario, same right arm, same excruciating pain.
But it’s just a dream, right? Yea, I thought so, too. That is until tonight.
I shut my bedroom door and the clay woman I made in an art therapy education class I took a couple of years ago fell off my shelf. I picked her body up and found her right arm…broken off…and under my dresser.
I may be on permanent belay duty this trip.


One Response to “cast”

  1. Schmanda said

    no need to dish about my extremely awesome bedhead…you know you’re jealous.

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