Falling Stupidly

The end of the school year is coming to the close, meaning one thing inevitably: finals.
In Dance PE we were instructed to coereograph (spelled wrong) our own dance to music. 30 seconds for a solo, a minute for a pair and so on.
The next two days will be our last regular days of the year before four hellish half-days. Our teacher, Ms. Howard, fearing we wouldn't have enough time to show all of the dances asked about three groups today to perform. When we have a final in Dance PE, we are videotaped so it's easier to grade us. I volunteered to work the camera today. however, there is one problem: I'm SHORT.
This camera was quite high on its tripod to see over the heads of students and onto the stage. It seemed like a good idea at the time to drag a metal folding chair over to stand on.
This, however, is not true.
The chair buckled.
I wobbled.
The chair closed on my ankles and toppled to the ground, knocking over the tripod and leaving a twitching Hideki on the gym's linoleum.
"Are you okay?" I heard someone say.
Groping for some vapor trail of my fleeing pride, I looked up to see someone's knees. It's odd how the more you get to know a person, the more familiar they become. For example, at this moment I identified my friend Sam solely on his jeans and shoes.
Despite the fact my feet had nearly been severed from my body, I almost threw that thought away to grin like an idiot.
"You really do care!" I wanted to say.
Yet again, Hideki shows her weird mind-set and freakishly low self-esteem: Instead of fearing for your own well-being, get an adrenaline jolt from the fact that you obviously don't annoy this person in question like you constantly think you do.
My ankles will recover, but they're a bit tender and I'm expecting a bruise in the morning.

On another note, I'm concerned for my bamboo plant.
On of its three stalks has turned almost completely creamsicle yellow, and various leaves have been developing veins of the same color for the past few months. This bamboo plant is important to me - aside from the fact I haven't killed it yet, it's a keepsake from entering high school. My mom bought it with me at Trader Joe's last summer as a gift for the occasion.
Fearing for my dear bamboo plant's legacy, I grabbed a glass candle holder filled with beach pebbles, scurried to the kitchen, and filled it with water. I snipped off the two sprouts from the yellowing stalk and stuck them in the pebbles, praying they might grow.
Hang in there, Bamboo-chan!!

- Much luvz, Hideki.