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Nov. 23rd, 2009 07:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Richie was here over the weekend. This is a rare treat at the moment for both of us, and we were determined to Have Fun.
The gods of fate decided this was not the way forward. After flooding all of Cumbria (... okay, that was probably not aimed at me) his train was running very late. Still, h finally made it down fairly late on Friday, all was well.
The next day, we went into Southport. The weather wasn't amazing, but is seemed like a good idea at the moment. Southport has a pier, you see, a pier that technically leads out to the sea but only on the thirty days a year the sea ia actually is. So we were on the pier. In the rain. A wooden pier. In the rain. Wearing shoes without much grip.
... before I had taken many steps along it, the ground went missing and I had a brief flash of sky before lights started flashing in front of my eyes and the world spun and my back started screaming is abject pain at me. Fair play to Richie, he didn't laugh at me. I would have laughed at me, had I not been on the one writhing on the floor in excruciating pain. After I eventually made my way back up, I quietly tried to not to pass out. I didn't. I'm quite proud of myself in that. I also calmly waited a while to see if my initial hysterical demands to be taken to hospital were a bit over the top.
Luckily, they were. I am horrendously, unbelievably bruised and sore and my coccyx is a small nebulus of screaming pain whever I try to stand up, sit down, or otherwise move, but, well, it's nothing that several cushions can't help though. I'm still not sure if my pride or my back hurts more.
So now I am going to be spending my working days with a cushion as the office chair is too sore to sit on. And, obviously, Richie is not here to say vaguely soothing things. Hmph.
I have a very busy few weeks ahead of me, now. The weekend coming up is London Collectormania, featuring
ann_pan,
loneraven and ODO. I LOVE ODO. There are other amazign guests - John Barrowman and Gareth Lloyd-Davies at the same convention - but rather worringly I am currently feeling most screamingly excited about the DS9 guests. As long as I resist the urge to howl "I NAMED MY CAR AFTER A CHARACTER YOU STOPPED PLAYING WHEN I WAS TWELVE OR POSSIBLY YOUNGER!" I think we'll be okay. Then it's a quiet week, and then I have, in the space of two weeks, a trip to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show live in Manchester (we are going in costume), the DocSoc Christmas meal, Russell Howard live in Liverpool, work Christmas party (three words - all inclusive booze) and then Christmas.
When I am going to do my Christmas shopping is mystery to me, too.
The gods of fate decided this was not the way forward. After flooding all of Cumbria (... okay, that was probably not aimed at me) his train was running very late. Still, h finally made it down fairly late on Friday, all was well.
The next day, we went into Southport. The weather wasn't amazing, but is seemed like a good idea at the moment. Southport has a pier, you see, a pier that technically leads out to the sea but only on the thirty days a year the sea ia actually is. So we were on the pier. In the rain. A wooden pier. In the rain. Wearing shoes without much grip.
... before I had taken many steps along it, the ground went missing and I had a brief flash of sky before lights started flashing in front of my eyes and the world spun and my back started screaming is abject pain at me. Fair play to Richie, he didn't laugh at me. I would have laughed at me, had I not been on the one writhing on the floor in excruciating pain. After I eventually made my way back up, I quietly tried to not to pass out. I didn't. I'm quite proud of myself in that. I also calmly waited a while to see if my initial hysterical demands to be taken to hospital were a bit over the top.
Luckily, they were. I am horrendously, unbelievably bruised and sore and my coccyx is a small nebulus of screaming pain whever I try to stand up, sit down, or otherwise move, but, well, it's nothing that several cushions can't help though. I'm still not sure if my pride or my back hurts more.
So now I am going to be spending my working days with a cushion as the office chair is too sore to sit on. And, obviously, Richie is not here to say vaguely soothing things. Hmph.
I have a very busy few weeks ahead of me, now. The weekend coming up is London Collectormania, featuring
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When I am going to do my Christmas shopping is mystery to me, too.