Ice Cream in my Hair

You know those crime dramas that start zoomed in on a picture of the body and then step backward in time to tell the story?  Well picture this:

I'm lying flat on my back, semi-deliriously doing some combination of laughing and crying, with ice cream smeared across the left side of my neck and through my hair.  My mother is rushing toward me, looking very worried, and asking if I am okay.  And despite the throbbing pain in my left shin and both knees, I got up slowly to start to assess the damage.

No, this is not some flashback of a childhood memory.  This happened last night at approximately 6:55 pm.

40 MINUTES BEFORE THE EVENT

I was sitting at the counter, preparing a few final details for my Dickens Festival rehearsal, when my cell phone rang.  It was Skyler.  "Hey, I've talked myself into going and getting a shake.  So what kind do you want?  I'm at Arctic Circle."  After the rundown on available ice cream flavors and mix-ins, I settled on vanilla ice cream with cookie dough and brownies, and got back to work.

Skyler arrived at my house, shake in hand, ready to carpool to rehearsal.  I gathered my things: binder, ipod, charger, camera - all in the rolling briefcase issued to me by the Dickens Festival, computer and power cord in my laptop backpack - along for the ride tonight because my mom needed to borrow it.

I gathered my coat and keys and headed to the car.  During the 17 minute drive, I enjoyed approximately 3/4 of my shake while discussing the day's events with Skyler.  (Tragedy of the missionaries who were recently killed, whether or not we believe in ghosts, faith verses science and how to balance the two...)  We arrived at the Utah State Fairgrounds 12 minutes before seven and were mutually surprised to see my mom there already.

7 MINUTES BEFORE THE EVENT

"You actually get here on time when you take the right roads," my mom said as she got out of her car.  I walked around to the back of mine and lifted the hatch to see not two bags side by side, but only my laptop case.

"Oh no," I said, followed by an audible sigh.  I walked around to check the interior of the car, knowing I would not see the all-important briefcase.

"What are you missing?" my mom asked.  Skyler replied for me, "Her bag with all the rehearsal stuff..."

"My iPod, my script," I started.

"The key..." Skyler finished.

The key.  Crap.

After a quick discussion, it was decided that my mom would try to find a security person to let us in while I called Kirk to see if he'd rescue me, like usual.  After I hung up the phone, Skyler started to walk toward the back fence.  I remembered we'd had a discussion about how we thought it was probably possible to break in through the back door of the building.  "Genius," I said, as I hurried to catch up.

1 MINUTE BEFORE THE EVENT

"I'm just coming with you to make sure you don't get raped," I joked as we walked from the semi-lit parking lot into the dark area behind the fairground's Pioneer building.

"You know what's kinda not funny about that?" Skyler asked.  "This week on the U campus, there's been a groper.  Yeah, he groped two different women, so there's been alerts going out and all sorts of stuff."

"Crazy!" I replied as we reached the back doors.  One firm tug and the doors came right open.  Relieved that my cast would at least not be stuck outside in the cold, I hurried - shake in hand - to enter the building and open the front doors.

5 SECONDS BEFORE THE EVENT

While the front doors were clearly visible across the room ahead of me, the divisive space was incredibly dark.  I plunged confidently ahead into the darkness:

Had I been able to see, I would have seen this:

A raised metal lip to the door frame.  A large wooden box placed directly in the entryway...

THE EVENT

I went down.  Hard.  And thanks to a combination of shake-in-hand and my personal lack of self-preservation skills, I had no hands to catch myself with.  I fell hard, first onto my knees and then completely forward practically onto my face.  And then I realized I was no longer holding my shake.  My assumption is that I fell on it, causing the 1/4 which was left to spray out in a forward trajectory.  My hair, worn down and curly, interrupted its trajectory and absorbed a respectable amount of ice cream.  I lay face down on the floor, trying to collect myself, while Skyler laughed at me.  Out loud.

POST-EVENT

"Are you okay," he finally asked, through his chuckles.

"I don't really know," I laughed/cried.  "It hurts really bad.  Can you try to turn on the lights?"

As he headed toward the breaker box, my phone rang.  It was Kirk, calling to clarify my request for him to bring my bag.  I answered with a laugh/cry, and his tone instantly changed.  "Honey, are you okay?  What happened?"  Still face down on the ground, I explained I was fine and had just fallen.  He said from my tone he had thought something was seriously wrong.  We wrapped up our conversation, and then my mom called.

"Skyler and I broke in," I laugh-cried.

"I saw that," she responded.  "Are you going to come open the front doors?"

"Well, I kind of fell," I continued.  "And it hurts really bad."

I rolled over onto my back and started to assess the damage - ice cream first.  Skyler went to get me some paper towels to try to get the mess out of my hair and then went to open the doors.

Apparently my tone had really worried my mom, too, because when Skyler opened the front doors, my mom hurried to my side with that efficiently worried style moms have when their children are in need.  The edge of my pain had finally subsided enough that I felt ready to stand up.  Plus my mom looked way more worried than was necessary; I figured I'd better ease her tension.

I stood and pulled up a pant-leg.  Nasty goose egg and abrasions on my left shin just at ankle level?  Check.  Knees tender to the touch but not showing any signs of bruising - yet?  Check.  Ice cream smeared across my cheek and neck?  Check.  Cast members who'd seen the last few moments (starting with the ice cream evaluation)?  Check.

A great story to tell to next year's cast?

Check.

But do I have a picture to immortalize on the blog?  Nope.  My camera was in the missing bag.