First let me tell you how last night was supposed to go, because I’m telling you, it was going to be lovely. I’d finally convinced Alex that it had been long enough since our last visit to Tabla’s Bread Bar — which as many long-time readers might know, is only my most favored restaurant in the entire world — that it would be only right to get back there, stat. [Plus, OMG, Floyd Cardoz just came out with a cookbook! Like last week! I know, I can't believe I haven't bought it yet either! Breathe.] The plan was to meet there at 6 p.m. and then after — psst, this is the really cool part — go to the observation deck at the Empire State Building. I’ve never been, but read recently that it’s now open until 2 a.m. on Thursdays through Saturdays and is actually remarkably empty as it gets later. Yesterday was warm and clear, a real November treat, and I could not imagine a better time to go.
So, I folded up the tripod, the telephoto lens, the remote clicker and our camera, tucked the in two bags and I’m sorry, but this is the bad part… I fell down the stairs. I just… I was carrying stuff and wearing heels and rushing and I’m pretty freaking clumsy anyhow and all of these factors came together in the worst possible was between the third and second-floor landings. It scared the living crap out of me, as you can imagine, kind of watching it happen but not able to stop it or know how it will end. I thought I was okay, I mean I am here, right? but as it has actually turned out, I fractured my clavicle. (The camera and lenses are, remarkably okay, er, a little less so, the evidence of my ass-over-teakettle tumble on the freshly-painted stairway wall.) I can’t believe it either; it sucks quite a bit in terms of discomfort, sling and have I mentioned that I’m left-handed and guess what? So, there’s that too. But, it could have been so much worse and I’m only supposed to be sling-ed up for two or three weeks and look, I typed this whole thing with my right hand! (Thankfully, the same side as the backspace key.)
I know what you’re thinking: the things she’ll do to get out of NaBloPoMo! Just two or three weeks, eh? How convenient! And “falling down the stairs?” What a cliche! But, it’s true, and while I have all sorts of little recipes planned for Alex and I to cook together, with no ability to chop or do dishes (suh-weeet) alas, odds are not good it will be daily. I’m bummed! This was really fun! But I’ll be back before you know it, as I have a crazed suspicion that the no-knead bread of Mark Bittman fame can totally be done with one hand.
Can I get a “yeah!” on that?