Heels Should Come With Warning Labels

I, Emily Sudweeks, have officially injured myself here at Rexburg... and it hasn't even legitimately snowed or gotten icy here yet. This winter is gonna be good. (When I say good, I mean out right terrible.)

I caution you, the picture at the end of the blog is NOT for the faint at heart! Then again, I'm just a wuss when it comes to injuries so it really may not be as bad as I believe.

But if it doesn't look bad, oh man, it FEELS bad.

I suppose I should start the story now eh?

First off, I must say, I am a PRO when it comes to heels. Half inch, two inch, four inch, you name it. I have them. Of course most of them are at home because I didn't want to bring two dozen pairs of shoes when I obviously won't be able to wear open toed shoes much longer.

I have worn heels ever since my parents let me choose out my own church shoes. The higher the heel the better, the bigger the bow the better.

I ran away from my parents in heels because I didn't want to leave church. I ran towards the car in heels after church dances from because I was freezing cold.

I've strutted in three inch stilettos (the same that caused me my doom) down a slippery runway for a fashion show a few years back and I didn't flinch at all.

I have never fallen down in heels... until today. My streak of poise and grace has vanished right before me.

Now imagine these shoes... Black three inch stilettos, peep toe, with a cute buckle in the front.

Those aren't so bad, I've had more deadly shoes. Higher and thinner.

Now Fred forgot something at my apartment so he figured he'd just walk me home from church. It's about approximately six or seven minutes walk to my apartment.

You know that saying, accidents happen approximately within fifteen miles away from your house. I know that's for car accidents, but klutzs like myself can have accidents too!

So he and I were walking home, talking about whatever was on our minds. I'm not sure what I was focusing on, but that little heel of mine slipped right between the crack..

and BOOM. Hello sidewalk! Meet my left knee and the palm of my hand! It's so nice to meet you.

Fred, being the gentleman he is, tried to help me up. But the sheer embarrassment of falling in heels you've owned for over four years hurts your pride a bit. So I shot up claiming I was fine and we continued walking, joking about it for mere moments.

As we neared our destination, I kept feeling blood drip down my knee so I tried to nonchalantly inspect my knee.

Oh.

Oh man.

This doesn't look good.

I can promise you the picture looks much more vivid on my phone and in real life. I can honestly say that my entire kneecap is bruised, and it's going to take me MUCH longer to walk to class. It hurts like heck to walk up stairs, and I have the opportunity to walk up three flights of stairs just to get to one of my classes three times a week.

I'm crippled.

If anyone sees me on campus, I will happily accept a piggy back ride. xD

...Maybe this is a sign that I should buy a new pair of shoes.

So this is a little embarrassing to admit but...

I kinda almost ate a leaf just now.

Now you're thinking, "Why on Earth Emily, would you almost eat a leaf? Leaves are on the ground or on trees. How could they possibly get into your mouth?"

Well, it all started off with my Mom sending me a coupon for a dollar off some chips. (Thanks Mom! I love you! <3)

I got me some tasty BBQ potato chips since that's what my stomach currently desired.

I have been finishing my homework for my math class on my bed while munching on the crunchy crisps. (That survey? Yeah, that homework.)

I notice that one of my broken chips fell onto the bed, and I thought, "Hey, 5 second rule doesn't apply here considering it only landed on my bed." as I picked up the chip and tossed it into my mouth.

I began to chew said chip, and realized that it tasted a bit more... flat, bland, and non chip-like at all.

I pull out my chip, and realize that it's an orange leaf.

Don't ask me how a leaf got onto my bed, I have no idea.

On the other hand, I met 'Stephen' while doing laundry tonight. (If you don't know what I'm talking about refer to my post.) I found out his name was Aaron, not Stephen.

Eh, close enough.

"Hey I Don't Know You But Here's A Flower"

"Hey I just met you

and this is crazy

so here's a flower

talk to me maybe?"

Although that might have not been the first thing that I heard when I answered the door on Thursday night, it sure felt that way.

Here I was, finishing off a piece of bread, intently watching Chopped: Teen episode on Food Network. I was eager to focus my attention to the show considering my favorite part (the dessert round) was about to come on.

Then all of a sudden the doorbell rings. I yell, "Come in!" just as everyone else does in this apartment.

Nothing.

I get up, wondering if it's another kid selling deliciousness, like Sees candy bars. Just previously a kid was selling homemade cinnamon rolls for a dollar. Oh how they were glorious! Best dollar I spent.

But alas, it was not a kid selling Sees candy bars. It was two random guys and one of them had a flower in his hand. First thing I hear is, "Hey I don't know you but here's a flower."

...Okay... Where are they going with this?

We start talking about the usual stuff that everyone asks when you're in college. What's your name, what are you majoring in, what ward are you in, and all that jazz.

Sadly enough, I don't remember the first guy's name at all. I told him later on that he looks like a guy that I know named Stephen, so I'll just call him that. (Stephen, if you're reading this, oh hey! xD)

Then the second guys name was two first names, so I have a variety of guesses on what his actual name is. Luke Bryan? Bryan Luke? Mark Bryan? I want to say Luke Bryan, because apparently he's a country singer and it would be no big deal if I met "Luke Bryan". So I'll just go with that.

Turns out Stephen has randomly knocked on a girl's door from his ward and gave her a flower too, then she slammed the door in his face and she's ignored him ever since. I laughed and jokingly told them that if they're interesting enough I'd blog about all of this. They agreed and told me that I should blog how I met these two cool guys on a Thursday night.

Yeah.. not exactly.

It's not like I didn't mind talking to them, but there was a lot of awkward silences and they even admitted that they got the flower from a bush outside (which I knew considering I walk by them every day multiple times).

The entire conversation was just odd, and I kinda figured that they checked me out through the window and wanted to talk to me. They also gained creeper status because Stephen took a picture of me when I was talking mid-sentence.

Not. Cool.

After they left, they may have gained my name, where I live, my ward, and a picture of me... But they failed to leave with my number, and a desire for me to talk to them ever again.

But I was perturbed, because of them I didn't find out who won Chopped.