this writer’s life: Break a Leg in LA

Everything in LA is slickerey and shiny, even the streets. That’s what I love about the City of Angels … until Wednesday night, when slippery Los Angeles pulled me down. Everybody says that LA will do that to you–make smiley promises and then suck the dreams right out of your marrow. But I didn’t think it would happen so quickly.

Here’s how it happened to me: I was walking down a Hollywood Hill with an old friend. Then the city pushed my left foot in the air and slapped the rest of me on the cement into a position I once did in Yoga. When I woke up that night in pain, it seemed certain I had broken my foot. But as they say in Monty Python, I’m getting better. Unfortunately, that means no rock climbing, hiking, boxing, jogging or swing dancing for a while.

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2 responses to “this writer’s life: Break a Leg in LA

  1. How is it I did not hear of any of this? Well, I noticed no limp, so I suppose you’re better …

  2. I didn’t think to tell you. My foot injury was the least interesting thing happening at your party! But if you’re curious, my foot is getting better. Nothing broken, big gash, and no more swelling.

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