I'm usually a pretty smart woman, but sometimes common sense escapes me. Case in point: Saturday night at the Statewide Conference Concert.

For some strange reason (read: lack of brain cells, I probably got too much sun that day) I decided to join the mosh pit when Aztlan Underground, a Chicano rock band, played in the gym at the student fitness center.

I was fine the first time I went in, but it didn't last long. For a few minutes, I stood outside the melee and took a Chicana sociologist's point of view on mosh pits. In my analytical mind, I concluded mosh pits are very violent forms of dance (if you can call it that) and displays of pent up macho male aggression. I couldn't see how so-called "conscious" Chicanos and Chicanas could engage in such behavior. And then, I jumped in again.

I guess I got what I deserved. As I rounded the circle in a quick run/skip/jog for the fifth or sixth time and sought to push away and avoid the crazy guys coming my way, I was pushed (or just tripped on my own). The next second I knew, my left knee was hitting the covered gymnasium floor hard and I was laying down face first with a good view of the black Chuck Taylors and shell-toe Adidas. Around me, D (one of my counselees!) and some concerned moshers tried to pick me up. If I wasn't wearing an ankle-length denim skirt, it would've been much easier. It took me a moment or two to get my bearings and limp out of the pit.

The result of my stupidity: two ugly scrapes on my left knee (one is the size of a nickle and the other the size of a quarter); swelling in my knee (Adrian says it looks like I have a golf ball in there); a nickle-sized bruise on my right knee; and a small bruise on my left elbow.

My knee is healing alright, but it's still quite tender, a little swolen and still stings.

For the past few days I've been wearing skirts and shorts partially due to the heat - I think it was in the high '90s in Westwood today - and partially due to the fact that even lightly grazing the cuts/scrapes on my right knee really hurts. So, everyone can see it, and they all ask questions.

If you think it's funny/sad having to explain to family, friends and folks at work what happened to my knee, you should see their faces when I tell them I was in the mosh pit. It throws off their perception of me, which I always like to do... nothing like screwing around with peoples' heads.

Me siento: okay
Escuchando: nada

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