1) The dog ate my homework.
2) I wanted to give last week’s Single Male Friend another week in the spotlight because he really does deserve a nice girl to settle with. Or play ultimate Frisbee with. Or do whatever it is that college seniors want to do with girls.
3) I got so wrapped up in chronicling the events of Sunday’s double header (and drafting next week’s column!) that I kind-of, sort-of forgot to line someone up for today.
4) Date #6, who agreed to be my Single Male Friend last month, is still too busy to installing new windows in his north Philly bachelor pad to talk to me about relationships. (He can find the time, however, to talk to me about installing windows and baseball games. The absolute incompatibility of men and women will never cease to amaze me.)
5) I was going to interview my brother (surely he owes me for something I’ve done for him during the past 23 years) but that seemed a bit incestuous.
6) I fell down the stairs yesterday.
I’m not really sure how Excuse #6 is relevant (you don’t need your legs to type) but I know that it is, somehow.
And for the record, I wasn’t even wearing heels. I was wearing sneakers, and I fell down the stairs in my own house (the same stairs that I’ve successfully traversed at least a thousand times) so I can’t even sue someone and move to a tropical island with the settlement.
Before you ask, I’m okay. Just a little strain, or sprain (I never could remember the difference) and aside from the initial “Oh f*ck!” moment (in I which was, admittedly, just as upset about spilling my coffee as I was about landing on my ankle), I didn’t feel a thing until I walked 12 blocks to the bus stop and attempted to lead my creative movement class in our rather… err, creative version of “The Conga.”
It was then that Miss Kat decided to admit defeat. And raid the first aid cabinet.
One ice pack, one ace bandage and one rather boring afternoon later, I’ve finally come up with a good excuse: I don’t have Single Male Friend for today because next week’s Single Male Friend is going to be soooo exciting that he needs a bit of no-fly zone around him. Seriously ladies, he’s like that part of the solar system that’s so hot that if the other planets get too close, they explode. Or catch fire, or whatever it is that would happen in the unlikely event that a planet actually collided with the sun.
And as for you, gentlemen, lest I scandalize that scientific community with any further displays of my astronomical ignorance (get it? Astronomical? As in— never mind. I think the Ibuprofen is making me loopy because I’m cracking myself up over here…) I shall close with the following: I’ve known this particular fellow since I was 17 and I was not terribly cool at 17.
(If you don’t believe me, just wait until I post the photos.)
Until next time, happy Friday and I’ll see you back here tomorrow morning.