7/11/08

I Feel Bad About My Neck and Other Depressing Stories

I see that book (I Feel Bad About My Neck) everywhere and think to myself, who the hell is this Nora Ephron and why should she feel bad about her neck?

It wasn't until I happened to have been feeling particularly bad about Meg Ryan's botched nose and lips (she used to be so gorgeous pre-2001) after watching her latest dismal movie, My Mom's Boyfriend, and did some googling, that I found out that Nora Ephron is a bigwig Hollywood screenwriter who wrote Sleepless in Seattle, You've Got Mail, and When Harry Met Sally, among other big movie hits.

Interesting stuff. Well, OK, maybe not. What is interesting, is that last week after doing the Seattle Underground Tour (a must-see/do activity for anyone, local yocal or otherwise, looking to kill a couple of hours in old downtown Seattle), we made our way to Elliot Bay Books in Pioneer Square. Elliot Bay Books has got to be one of the best bookstores ever. I adore it. But for some reason, it always reminds me of the charming bookstore in the movie, You've Got Mail. Turns out, however, that downstairs in the underground bowels of Elliot Bay Books is where they would shoot the coffee shop scenes for Frasier. I never knew that until last week.

Anyways, you're probably wondering why I feel bad about my neck. Or perhaps not. In either case, the reason I feel bad about my neck is that a scary thing happened to me on my way home from the specialty Irish shop in Seattle a couple of days ago, where we went in search of Irish dancing socks for Holy Daughter, who will be dancing in her first official competition at month's end.

I was on the I-5, minding my own rush hour business as our lane came to its predictable stop-n-go halt, when all of a sudden an SUV came up out of nowhere and ploughed into the rear end of my vehicle. Can you say Holy freakin' scary, batman? The kids and I were all OK, luckily and praise be to God, but my ass end isn't. It's flattened and crumpled and dented and extremely bruised.

And I feel bad about my neck.

My daughter and I had a doctor's visit yesterday and we are both suffering minor effects of whiplash - mine is mostly a right arm muscular pain extending all the way from my forearm up through to my shoulder and lower neck and back - likely caused from gripping the steering wheel and holding on for dear life at the point of impact, as we were pushed up to the car in front. Her's is an upper back pain. Her booster seat flew forward towards me and then was flung back wherein she bonked her head against it.

I also felt bad for the poor fellows in the car I hit. They were enroute from Vancouver, BC to attend The Foo Fighters concert in downtown Seattle but ended up getting stuck waiting on the side of the I-5 and enduring the stares and honks of lurking motorists, as we all did, some 75 minutes for the state trooper to arrive.

As with all sad twists of fate, crash and circumstance, timing is everything. My son stoically observed not many minutes after the accident that had I only listened to him and detoured for a bite to eat as he had requested, we would have not been in the scenario we found ourselves to be in. Woulda coulda shoulda is schmidta though.

It happened, as schmidt tends to do, just before we were about to embark on a camping trip for a week. We now have to cancel said trip, on account of not being able to pull the tent trailer, but as luck would have it, were able to salvage our state park getaway in small part by being able to find a nearby cabin rental for virtually the same price as a campsite. So we are now doing a marine rather than mountain retreat but I no longer have to stress about cooking with propane.

I'm also thankful to the God of small things that the repair shop did not deem the Odyssey a complete right-off, as is the trend in auto repair.

So in the meantime - which sounds to be 3 weeks - we'll be pimping a ride in a rental car, which as it turns out, means a red Ford Edge for this upcoming week of vay-cay. Which also means the kids will be sitting beside each other. Which is a cardinal sin in this family on account of being within intimate proximity to poke, punch, pinch, jab and jeer and pester one another. Which is the depressing part of this story.

I wonder if there's a special place in heaven for mothers, like say a luxe spa with the sign "Pas les Enfantes dans la Heavenly Spa, si vous plait."

Now that's my idea of heaven.

10 comments:

Jorge said...

I'm so soryy you have to deall with all of this, but happy none of you were more seriously injured. Cars can be fixed or replaced; same can't be said of family. BTW, I LOVE book stores! Be well,
J.

VENTL8R said...

Yikes, that's mega-uncool. Especially reading about Daughter's booster seat flying forward. I wasn't thrilled when I unpacked Jenna's new booster and found that it doesn't attach to anything....then again, when I was a kid (and you, as well) we were lucky to even be buckled!

Glad to hear that most came out unscathed, albeit sore. And will be for some time. Just find a good chiropractor.

And I really enjoyed the Underground Tour when Hubs and I were there 5y ago. It still boggles the mind to think of how Seattle started and where it is today.

itsjustmeagain said...

Holy Schmidt... yikes!! SSSOOO very happy you and the kidlets are OK!!! Now you will have to tell me though - how is the Ford Edge - how was the drive... I've been eyeing them for a while now and just haven't gotten around to driving one of those babies.

Hey... should let you know... I'm looking to relocate to your old stomping grounds... could use some guidance!!!

Hope the effects of whiplash dissipate in your Pas D'enfants Permis Dans Le Spa Heavenly. Merçi! If anything... you won't hafta hear all about the shudda cudda wuddas from Holy Boy...

Ciao bella,
Have fun camping... thinking about you!

KC

Anonymous said...

Been a while and I am glad you all came out OK in the accident. Woulda coulda shoulda is schmidta though...now it does not get any better than this! Have a lovely time on your vacation in the cabin and a speedy recovery.

Cheryl..photonut.

Natalie said...

Lordy. Glad you were all okay. Car accidents, especially with the kids in the car, are scary things!

Summer is almost over for us. End of an era... and things have been crazy-awful here with work. Watch or the email edition of my saga as I'm now finally on vacation.

Talk to you soon.
*hugs*

Jorge said...

Though I have to work this weekend, I'm excited because next weekend my favorite poet and his bride are returning here for a long visit. Hope all is well with you,
J.

lynn said...

Wow, Holy! So glad you are all mostly okay. whiplash is not much fun, i remember.

Poor Meg Ryah! I never did understand why she'd want to do that to herself...she was so gorgeous before hand. Eh...some people's idea of beauty is just skewed I guess. I'm glad I can't afford plastic surgery.

Much love to you and yours!

Jungle Mama said...

Hilarious post, though . . . I do feel sorry for your neck ;) Yes, I loved the underground tour as well. It was one of my favorites of Seattle. Beats the space tower on my list! Enjoy your wheels. And next time your son tells you to detour. . . listen to him, would you? Sheesh!

P.S. Loved your comment! I'm catching up. Oh, and I AM touring Europe ;)

Jorge said...

I was seeing "Holy tracks" as I was visiting various friends today, and couldn't sign off without saying "hello" to one of my favorites. Be well,
J.

ITChick said...

That just stinks! But the fact that you could put such a positive/humorous spin on it all reminds me of why I enjoy reading your blog. Prayers go out to you all, especially to the sore neck. :/