Party Bruiser

3:32 p.m.

Everyone on my block is tired of hearing about how I damaged the hell out of my hand, but none of you have heard the story, so I'll go ahead and tell it again.

Two days ago Ryan and I decide to play some racquetball. I love racquetball. I suck at it, and I never seem to get all that much better no matter how much I play, but I still love it. Unless I have to play it in my racquetball class against jackasses who take it too seriously and get in your face. And throw their racquets when they hit a bad shot. Assholes.

But that's not the point. The point is that I love racquetball so much that even when I come into some serious bodily harm, I'll keep going so long as I'm actually able to play. So Ryan and I have this badass volley going - every time it looks like it's about to end, one of us pulls out a new move, and it keeps on going - when suddenly I execute a beautiful shot. It was amazing. Seriously. I was so impressed by my expert racquetball skills that I almost didn't notice that on my follow-through that I creamed the back of my other hand with the side of my racquet. Just like I almost didn't notice that the force of my self-damaging blow propelled my entire body, hand-first, into the side wall, for additional damage. Really. It was that good of a shot.

Of course, I did notice that a knot nearly the size of the racquetball we were playing with instantly swelled up on my hand, throbbing with pain.

Ryan: Whoa, are you okay? I saw that! That had to hurt.
Lee: Nah, it's, uhhhh...it's cool, I think. Just let me...whoa.
Ryan: What? What's up?
Lee: N....nothing, it's good. Just a bruise.
Ryan: Oh, yeah? Hey, lemme see, I just....uuuuggghhhh! Holy crap! Did you break something?

Let me break in here and say that Ryan wants to be a doctor. I feel sorry for the patients that he gets.

Patient: So anyway, Doc, I got this injury. Think it's okay, but I wanted an expert's opinion, and-
Dr. Ryan: Holy shit! How are you still alive?!

So now I'm slightly freaked out, going, "Huh...what if I did break something? I'm pretty sure my hand shouldn't have this insane scarred lump on it, especially not so instantaneously after the injury." But then I started moving my fingers and clenching my hand, and other than a small amount of pain that stemmed from the giganto-bump itself, I was fine. So, of course, I kept on playing.

I was impressed with my machismo/stupidity. Normally I wuss out immediately after being injured. "Better safe than sorry" or some such nonsense.

Then in the second game, Ryan hit a shot that bounced awkwardly off the side wall and slammed right into my hand. Yeah, right into the "Pain Zone." He apologized and I accepted graciously, then said through clenched teeth, "Hey, man, maybe this should be our last game."

So gracious.

When I got back I took out a cold coke and held it against my lump. Hey, I live in a dorm. We don't have this "ice" stuff, unless you count those chiclet-trays that come with our mini-fridges, and I sure as hell don't. What was sort of nice was that my lump fit easily into the concave bottom of my coke-can, with room to spare. So my hand became a drink-holder. In a non-traditional sense.

The next day the swelling had gone down marginally, and today it's almost completely gone, but now my knuckles have thse huge bruises over them. I've already had a girl comment on them, wondering if I got into a fight or something. Looking back, I should've gone with that - it sounds a lot more manly than telling somebody that I hit myself with my own racquetball racquet.

Even though that could have happened to anybody.

Anyway, yesterday night we held a party for Todd's birthday. Technically Todd's birthday was a week ago, but he spent it with his family for Easter weekend so we couldn't really do anything. I had a pretty good time - what I remember of it, anyway.

I have a real problem with alcohol - I'm a total lightweight for one, and for another, when I get wasted, I get wasted. I almost always black out and don't remember anything the next day, and what's worse is that I generally have a downer period where I get really depressed. I was told that I didn't go through that so much this time. What I apparently did do was dance in the strobe light wearing a pair of reindeer antlers that I found somewhere in the apartment.

I woke up the next day and I was sleeping on the floor next to Andria while Ryan snoozed away all sprawled out on his big full-sized bed. I miss that sort of thing a lot. Being able to wake up next to somebody, I mean. Well, I guess since I don't go sleeping with all kinds of "somebodys" all the time what I really mean is that I miss waking up next to Andria.

We went and ate lunch at Taco Cabana (which rocks), and then she dropped me off back at my place. I still like spending time with her.

I also like spending time with Vck - she and I went out shopping yesterday (I needed batteries), and while I was there I picked up a t-shirt that says, "Who's Ya Daddy?" that featured a picture of a Sugar Daddy candy. Eh? Eh? Little gag, there.

Well, I thought it was funny.

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