Maybe I'm Too Involved With Battlestar Galactica

(Mom, you do know that I'm sideways, right? Also, mom, what are you doing? You're supposed to take pictures of me, not your...)

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So, BSG will be over next week. That’s good, because then I can get back to my usual Friday nights, full of hedonism. (As long as you recognize that hedonism can involve yarn.) But it occurred to me today that I might be watching too much BSG.
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I launched off some icy stairs in a parking lot today, and landed on my butt & my elbow. Icy steps, cellphone*, & my bag all made a bad combination – I’m grateful that a) I was wearing my grippy boots, b) I didn’t break anything, c) that I’m not 80, d) I landed on the fleshy upper but-cheek sort-of hip area, instead of higher or lower, like bones or organs or something, & e) several nice people stopped to see if I was okay, and none of them seemed to hear (or mind) my muffled (yet vehement) curse as I landed.
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I’ve been mentally moaning all day, every time I go to sit or lean against something. I mean, sure, I kinda always wanted a booty like J. Lo, but really? Massive contusion on one cheek was not really what I had in mind. I was in the washroom*, trying to peer around and see how much I’ve bruised – the only pleasure associated with bruises are, of course, watching their colors – and I caught sight of my hip.
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(This baby is like, 6 inches long. No lie. And less than one day old. You know you're in for a series of butt-self portraits, tastefully cropped - IF YOU'RE LUCKY! Hahahaa...)
This is what my brain came up with: “Mother of pearl, I’ve got the @ss of Jupiter!”
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Confusing? This is the “Eye of Jupiter”, or at least wat they interpreted as the Eye of Jupiter on BSG. And that's sure what it felt like.

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Maybe a little much BSG. Or maybe not???

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(Seriously. Check out the purple halo. This is one wicked bruise, and you know it's going to be a frequent visitor to the blog - you know, watching the bruise 's progress. If my elbow bruise really gets it together for some technicolor amazing, I may feature it as well.)

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Yes, I just blogged my own arse. I feel okay about it, it's probably a pleasant change from the toddler snot discussion, no?
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(Mom, you know they'd rather look at me being charming. Well honey, you don't elicit the same gasp that my bruise does. And you're sideways because I don't know why, & I'm not fighting with blogger anymore.)
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*It was early – & I noticed one of Am’s shoes in the car, so I called the man to let him know that those shoes, those shoes are Not What She Should Wear Today. (This was my attempt at a good deed – to avoid shoe hunt, that always ends in cursing. Don’t even ask me where EITHER of her new sneakers are; I don’t know.) I was even being super good, and calling on foot, as opposed to in the car. Universe, I'm not sure I'm getting what my message is supposed to be, here...