Yesterday was not a very focused day for me, which means I spend a lot of time on the outskirts of the Internet. I was happily minding my own business when I happened upon a musical mastermind. I am his new biggest fan. Or at least his fan with the biggest noggin. Seriously…I tried to wear a hat the other day because it is getting colder here…and I was reminded of the mammothness of my braincase.
Courtesy of www.nataliedee.com
But I digress.
JAMIE LIDELL (make a mental note) is my newest favoritiest singer everist. Go to his website…flock to iTunes…advance to YouTube (and collect $200 from the banker)…do whatever it is you need to do to hear more of this new album “JIM”. I must admit, the guy is a bit freaky….in a good way. A little bizzare never hurt no one. Seriously folks, I am hooked. A Wise man said to me, ““He is awesome. He has the soul of Prince and the looks of an accountant. LOVE IT.”
LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE!!!!!! So, take a right and check it out:
So, yesterday was my birthday. And I told you a few days ago how much I wanted a kitty for my birthday. Wellllll, while the official title of Kitty Aufschneider has yet to be filled, I DID get tickets to the traveling Broadway production of Disney’s The Lion King for next week!!!!!!!!! I am so pumped because I have really been dying to see that. So, while no kitty (besides Simba) won my heart last night…Christmas is right around the corner.
So this morning I am sitting with my coffee at my desk…thinking about the weekend…and realizing…as usual…what a dork I am…and apparently how much I use ellipses.
ANYwhoo…first off, I have told you before that I weep uncontrollably when celebrities die (see here.) Well, I have been really sad since the deaths of both Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes. *sniff*
Nothing mockable to say here…but seriously…this is way too sad. I also heard today that Isaac and Bernie had recently worked on a movie together that is due out soon. Samuel L. Jackson is in it too. Can you imagine how sad that movie premiere is going to be? Sheesh.
Alright…I’m all weepy again…moving on.
Another main reason that I am such a dork is how excited and obsessed I get about the Olympics. Friday night was the opening ceremonies, and I loved every minute of it. Did you guys watch? It was seriously the coolest thing ever.
Also, I get completely teary-eyed when the Americans march in the Parade of Nations. There is never a more patriotic moment in my opinion. I feel the same way every time someone gets a gold medal and they play our National Anthem. Which, by the way, if you watched when Michael Phelps won his first gold medal, they completely butchered it. The best part was that the NBC camera man quickly shot to President Bush in the audience who mouthed the words, “Well, alright.”
So basically between the celebrity deaths and the Olympic Games starting, I have been a basket case this weekend. What a dork…
So you are now looking at what is left of my right index finger. Sadly, on Saturday, I decided it would be a good idea to HURRY while I was cutting some cardstock with this:
Luckily, it was a brand new one, minus the rust you see here. Unluckily, though, this NEW knife had a nice new SHAAAAAAAAAAAAARP blade on it, which cut through my skin like cheese. I won’t bore you with the details, but as you can imagine, I screamed and said various words that made me sound like I was speaking in tongues.
Fast forward to four hours and three med-checks later. (One did not take my new insurance and one had a three hour wait). I was STILL bleeding and still in quite a bit of pain. As the doctor is three inches from my finger with a salve of some kind to cauterize my blood, he says non-chalantly, “Umm…this might sting a bit.” In translation, he said “ohh, you thought it hurt when you cut off your own flesh with a knife, wait till you feel THIS!” I have never wanted to punch a doctor worse than in this moment.
So, there you have my weekend. Painkillers and husbands that do the dishes rock. Then I got to work this morning. Forgetting that I need two good hands to type at the normal speed that I do, I can’t tell you how freaking frustrated that I am. I seriously need either a drink, or the good stuff that jerk of a doctor gave me. You can’t tell, but it has taken me 45 minutes to type this post.
I’m such an idiot.
Meanwhile, I have heard enough “once I cut my hand” stories to last me a lifetime. Why do people do that? I’m convinced that people are so self-obsessed that the only way they can relate to a real person is to talk about themselves. I hate that. Except of course when Holmes told me to suck it up, well, because his hand has been ON FIRE before. That jerk. He is always tryng to one-up me.
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