So maybe I started a bit too big…I won’t be covering any big stories for quite a while so I might as well use this blog for what it’s good for now: reporting horribly humiliating tales of personal suffering. Woo, thanks internet.

FROM THE TRIAGE DEPT.
This past Friday I went for a swim in the Lyons Center pool. Now, my previous experience at Lyons–the gym–should have convinced me it was a bad idea. There’s nothing but bruisers with torso-thick arms and brutal babes with black-belt Pilates skills to kick your arse with only their abs, but nonetheless, I thought I’d try it again.

So anyway it was lovely and fun and my new friend Hanna from j-school went along and hooray. Oops, until I had a violent allergic reaction to the chlorine. We’re talking bloodshot zombie eyes here. Had to get out, rinsed my eyes, etc. By the time I got back to my car, my eyes were crying so uncontrollably (my eyes mind you, not me, boys don’t cry) that I couldn’t even SEE, let alone drive. So I did what any mature 24-year-old-man would do: called my mom. She said “Go see a doctor, dummy” (or words to that effect). I got out and began to walk down the stairs out of Parking Structure B. Except I couldn’t see. So I was walking with my eyes closed. You can guess what happened next.

Correct. I fell down the stairs and sprained my ankle. So there I sat, at the bottom of the stairs, blind and now lamed. So I called mom again. I kept apologizing for saying scary things like “What should I do, I’m blind!?” Eventually, I found a campus map and was able to wipe the tears out for long enough to read the location of the Student Health Center. I hobbled two blocks and the rest, as they say, is history.

Props: Officer Carolyn from the Campus Cruisers who drove me first to the pharmacy and afterwards back to my place.

Slops: the chlorine Nazi who put 40,000 gallons of toxic death into the pool in the first place.

So, that’s not news of course, but there, a real blog entry…isn’t that better?