In a World of Hurt

I feel like I just fell off a stairwell, outside in the dark of night, onto rocks. Oh wait, I actually did do that. Ok, so that makes two falls in five days. My knees, jaw, leg, arm, wrist, and back are a tad painful. In the words of Pierre Maguire, I'm "in a world of hurt."

If you look back to a previous blog post about my Uncle's house, you'll recall the beer tap and ridiculously cool kitchen stove he has. Well, that's where I found myself last night. Needless to say, it turned into quite the disaster.

The night started off with pints of India Pale Ale freshly poured from the tap and an array of appetizers. We had ribs with a seductive fennel and coriander rub, chicken breasts in caramelized onions, toasted almonds, muffaletto (mind the spelling) sandwiches, and a pasta cabbage salad. You could easily have dubbed this evening a culinary event.

When it came time for dessert, I was called to the line. In a drunken stooper I came up with crepes and peach flambe as a decent meal. My uncle also had some strawberry/balsamic puree that would work well. So I set about mixing up some crepe batter. In lieu of milk, I used coffee cream and coconut milk. That gave the finished product a delictably rich texture and taste. For the peach flambe, I used rum for flavour, and fire. Once I had it lit, the lights were turned off and we all revelled in the blue flame.

Fast forward a few hours. I went to go outside to do the customary pre-pass out routine, when all hell broke loose. My uncle says to me, "Watch out, it's dark out there."
"Thanks, tips." Famous last words.
I walked out the door and thought, "Wow, it is dark outside...I can't see a thing."
I took one step forward with my right, unknowingly an inch away from the left side of the stairway landing. When I stepped with my left, I hit air and tumbled over the edge. I was up in a flurry, not realizing how much it actually hurt. I managed to climb back onto the stairs and hang out until my mom turned on the light that I didn't know existed.

At about sunrise, the projectile vomit started. All i can say is luckily I made it out the door. Ironically, most of the projectile went into the rocks and flower bed a fell into. Yuck.

And that's how I ended up feeling like I'm in a world of hurt. I'm pretty sure I would've fallen off the stairs if I was sober, so I'm not as embarrassed. That's little consolation, though.

Next up, my "Six Steps to Sustaining Verticality."