i know it's been awhile since i last blogged - even moreso than my usual weeklong sojourns. but i've been beyond busy in the past two weeks. to wit:
1. i sparred ten rounds for the first time
2. i underwent a successful liver biopsy
3. i had a great weekend with my parents where we talked about my future plans with the first lady of steveohville
4. i worked with the amazingly sincere maria sharapova, who is two and a half inches taller than me
5. i spent two days directing a nike shoot that went about as great as could have been expected by anyone involved
6. i adjacently had dinner at giorgio baldi's with nicole kidman, kevin connolly, tobey maguire, danny masterson and brooklyn decker
7. i bought some sweet new kicks
8. i turned 34
and, oh yeah, i got hit by a car.
i'll repeat and bold that: i got hit by a car.
here's what happened: i was crossing the street on 24th and valencia on the way to the 24th street BART station in the mission. i waited for the light to turn green. it did. i began to cross. i stepped over the double yellow line and heard a motor approaching me. i saw some people scatter in front of me. i turned, and saw a blue jeep just a couple yards away from me.
i thought to myself, "holy shit! i can't believe that i'm about to get hit by a car!" and yes, those are exclamation points. i only use them when my life is on the line.
i quickly put my hands up to do, i dunno, something. luckily, it was a jeep so the hood is higher up, and i was able to put my hands up and make first contact as it hit me. i didn't exactly catapult away, but i did push myself off of it.
i jolted to the side, landing on my feet, thankful that there was no oncoming traffic.
i heard some people yell and scream. i heard a screech of a car. i felt everyone looking at me.
i quickly took stock of myself. incredibly, i didn't get hit that hard - only in my hands, and slightly on my shins - and even more amazingly, i didn't land awkwardly, causing yet another ACL. i just got myself to the sidewalk and quickly thought about what just happened. the only thing flashing through my mind like a teleticker was "goddamn, i just got hit by a car".
the guy at the corner deli asked me if i was okay. i said, yeah, i think. i feel fine. and then he told me that the guy that hit me just pulled over.
he came out of the blue jeep, looking about as sad and excited as a human can seem at once. he asked me if i was okay. i said i was. he said that he just got the call at work that his wife just went into labor and he's two blocks away from the hospital (which he was) and, well, he got tunnel visioned and just didn't see me. he offered and insisted to take me to the hospital. again, i felt fine and just wanted to walk away from this harrowing experience. he shook my hand. i shook back. we wished each other luck.
it's a day and a half later, and i still can't get over the fact that i got hit by a car and there's nothing physically wrong with me. i'm thankful that i was able to face up to the jeep and brace myself instead of being blindsided, which would have been beyond awful. and i'm thankful that it was a truck and not a normal car, which would have caused me to roll over the hood or have broken my legs.
which would have been the least of my worries.
and more than anything else, i'm thankful that the first lady of steveohville wasn't there, because if she got hit, i don't know what i would have done with myself.
so i'm a lucky dude, i guess. on many levels.
happy birthday to me.