unhipster

My hip bones have always cracked, in a very specific, mostly satisfying way. Most of the time it's a must, rather than an option, like say, fingers or toes. I have to crack the hip to (literally) move on. And I've always kind of worried about this in the back of my mind for when I get old, like I'm going to have some sort of weird hip dysplasia, or have to get hip replacements or something. Painful.



Well, apparently, at the ripe old age of 29, I have become stuck. Rusted over like the Prego Tin Man, and there is no can of oil around. My left hip has had, for well over 24 hours now, that feeling of Needing Badly to Be Cracked. Popped. Anything Rice Krispie-like would be good. I feel like a good yoga pose or two might do the trick, and yet I'm a little terrified I might break.



It kind of reminds me of the time in high school when I went to crack my neck on the bus to school, and it totally got stuck to the side. The whole muscle cramped up, and there I was, frozen in an overly thoughtful head-cock, tears streaming down my face. Oh wait no, that was just funny. This, on the other hand, geez it kind of hurts. Too bad they don't make these things a little taller. Mommy could use one right now.