In other news, my finger was attacked by a wild piece of glass.
Let me explain.
Here I am, washing dishes when I see blood on my knuckle. Realizing this isn't a good sign, I wander over to my mom, clutching paper towel to my finger.
Me: Hey, Mom.
Mom: (Playing WoW): Huh?
Me: You apply pressure to a bleeding wound, right?
Mom: Uh....yeaaaah...
Me: Okay!
Mom: Run it under cold water.
So I flee down to the bathroom where I turn on the cold water. When I say cold, I mean it's freezing. Like someone took ice cubes and thawed them just a smidge above freezing so that it's water, but barely. Frikking cold.
So I'm alternating between applying pressure and chilling my hand, five minutes later it's still bleeding and my finger is now purple. Realizing this has potential to be SRS BIZNESS, my mom comes down and applies papertowel and medical tape.
Fast forward to tomorrow. A trip to the Nurse and I have a finger splint. I'm sitting there, in class with Rae, studying my finger that can't move.
Rae: Is that it?
Me: Yeah. Not pretty, but it's effective.
Rae: Okay.
Me: (Who has by now doodled a kitty face on it.) Look!
Rae: Can I sign it?
So Rae signs it as well as another friend of mine, and by the end of the day, several different people have signed my splint. Let it air out Saturday, and reapply the splint with new medical tape.
So, yeah. I'm alive, but typing is a pain.
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Other things to know:
You may notice that I'm not wearing my brown coat in the above picture. Turns out it died, so when I asked my mom for a new one, she handed me a green trench coat. I've had it called awesome many times, received a fair share of weird looks, been called a terrorist once, and scared two or three people. I love my coat.
That's all, folks. I'll see if I can post more after I get braces and my splint comes off.
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