Suits, Ties, Heels & Hose

I'm on a train right now, on my way home from my sister's house. My brother-in-law dropped me off at the station in Greenwich, CT because he had business near there. Greenwich is only a 45 minute train ride to NYC so there are a lot of commuters on the train.

As I look at myself in yoga pants, sneakers, and a hoodie seated amongst the suits, tie, hose and heels, I realize how removed I've become from the professional work force. It's been five years since I've had a day job and I'm okay with that. Everyone looks so uncomfortable... you couldn't pay me enough to go back to that world.

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld.

Oktoberfest War Wounds

I'm typing this with nine fingers.

My sister and brother-in-law had a big Oktoberfest party last night. While I came out of it fine, I did some damage during clean-up today and ended up in the emergency room.

Here are the girls and me last night...

Prost!

And here's me today, five stitches, a tetanus shot, and a finger splint later...

Hurting Girl

Ouch.

Okay, this is what happened. WARNING... if you get grossed out easily, stop reading.

So I was slightly hungover (too much Spaten), standing on a ladder with a pair of scissors in my hand. Not a good thing to do for the klutzy. I was attempting to cut a plastic fastener like this...


...off of a pole. The tie was a bit too thick to be cut with scissors, but I thought if I squeezed them together really hard I could get through it. Holding the scissors in my right hand and the plastic tie in my left, I did just that and squeezed and squeezed and then SNIP! I cut through the tie and removed a chunk of flesh from my finger right above the knuckle in the process.

The wound was pretty gross. My sister pretty much freaked out when she saw it, but I stayed surprisingly calm. My flesh looked like a chicken cutlet and I swear I could see the bone. Blech!!! But it didn't really hurt, it was just gross to look at. After the two of us cleaned it up, we wrapped my finger in gauze and then taped it to an emery board to it to keep it from bending. I then went back to cleaning. I swear. For a good hour, at least. But my finger wouldn't stop bleeding, so we thought it was best to go to the ER to have someone take a look at it just in case.

I ended up getting five stitches and I need to see a plastic surgeon tomorrow. Seriously. My official diagnosis is that I had an "elliptical-shaped soft tissue avulsion that had to be undermined."

Re: the "undermined" part... basically, the ER surgeon had to remove more flesh from inside the wound using a scalpel so he could bring the top edges of it together in a clean manner. So let's say that the wound looked like a "U" from the side. The doctor needed to make it look like a "V" so the top two edges could meet and be stitched without too much flesh between them. Does that make sense?

And re: the plastic surgeon... Because it's such a wide wound, bringing it together caused the skin on the opposite side of my knuckle to bunch up, making my finger looked deformed. The ER doctor said a plastic surgeon might want to make another incision across that side of my knuckle and remove the extra flesh so it matches the other side.

Yuck, yuck, yuck. It's all so gross. But get this... I didn't cry, whine or complain once during this entire ordeal, not even during my tetanus shot. I am so brave.

In case you're wondering, no, I'm not German. (Or I'm barely German—my Grandma was 1/2 German, so I'm 1/8, if anything.) My brother-in-law is German, however, and is going to be making this party an annual event. I'm going to tell everyone that I cut my finger by slamming down my beer stein because I think that's cool.

I'll keep you posted on the plastic surgeon.

Old Lady Shoes

My friend Naomi really wants me to get a pair of old-lady orthopedic shoes.

They're hot, huh?

Previously: My Left Foot

Some Things Aren't Meant To Be Shared

This morning my friend Lucy at Starbucks asked how I was doing, so I told her that I had a horrible sinus/allergy headache. (It's a gorgeous day today in NYC—GORGEOUS—and sometimes gorgeous days make me sneezy.) Upon hearing about this, another guy who works there (with whom I'm also friendly) goes, "Hey, I have a really great nasal spray if you wanna borrow it."

Okay, um... I'm pretty sure nasal spray isn't something you share with people. I mean, it goes into an orifice of your body. A wet one.

As soon as the guy offered it to me I think he realized how strange it was (either that or else he noticed the horrified look on my face) because he then gave me a funny look and was like, "It's kinda gross that I just offered that to you, isn't it?" I was like, "Um, yeah... just a little bit."

Some things just aren't meant to be shared.

Oprah

Oh Oprah... I love you and hate you for making me cry during your show today, The Children of September 11th. Is anyone else watching?

Only His Hairdresser Knows For Sure

Osama Bin Laden three years ago and now...


People are speculating that he may have dyed his beard to appeal to younger jihadis. If this is the case, I personally think he should've gone with a little Manic Panic:


But since he didn't, let's guess the shade he did go with for a little fun.

What hair color shade is Osama's best match?

Vote below!

PS - He SO isn't worth it.

In Remembrance

My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone who lost loved ones on 9/11/01.

My Left Foot

So how old do I feel right now? I had to see a podiatrist today. Yes, for the last eight months I've had an intense pain in my left heel and it won't go away. I'm not sure exactly what initially caused it, but I'm pretty sure it was these Michael Kors boots that I wore every day last winter:


They're cute, right? And they were actually comfortable, too, which is why I didn't expect them to ruin my feet. But I'm pretty sure they did.

Now, what would you expect to happen at the foot doctor? An examination? An X-Ray? That's what I expected. What I didn't expect was for the doctor pull out a two-inch needle and give me a shot in the foot, but that's what ended up happening.

A little background... I'm terrified of needles. TERRIFIED. Like I have a major phobia about them and have since I've been a little girl. (It all stems from having my tonsils out; a story for another time.) Because of this, I kinda freaked out upon seeing the needle, so the doctor called in an assistant to help me through the whole ordeal.

So a girl came in the room... she was young, nice... she stood next to me and let me hold her hands. I was a little relieved by her presence but still somewhat scared, so I buried my head in the crook of my arm which just happened to be resting over hers.

When the doctor began, I closed my eyes and held my breath. He told me it was going to be quick and painless but it sooooooo wasn't, so I'm completely tensed up and froze. The next thing you know, my mouth opened slightly and I began DROOLING on the girl's arm. Seriously. And the worst part of it was that I didn't wipe it off right away because the needle was still in my foot, so I was still afraid to move.

When the doctor (finally) finished, I apologized to the poor girl and wiped off her arm. She was really nice about everything and didn't seem too grossed out. (She works in a foot doctor's office, I'm sure she's experienced worse things than me drooling on her arm.)

Anyway, come to find out, I have a spur on my left heel or "plantar fasciitis." To correct it I have to get custom orthotics made. Thankfully my insurance covers them because they're like $400. I also have to sleep in a terrible contraption called a "night splint." If I wear these two things this thing should go away. For my sake and the sake of the poor girl's arm at the doctor's office, I hope it does.

Live From My Neighborhood

Gawker went live from 11201 to get reactions from people about the Heath Ledger & Michelle Williams split. This is where I live. Please meet my neighborhood.

Boerum Hill Comes To Terms With Heathchelle Split

Britney Let Me Down... But My Mom Didn't

I'm watching the VMAs on MTV right now, as is my mother. I told her to tune in for Britney's big "comeback," which ended up to be a huge disappointment. Bitch didn't bring it at all. My mom, on the other hand, did.

I thought she'd tune out after Britney performed, but she called me during the first commercial break, right after seeing Kanye sing...

"I didn't understand a thing he said," she said.
"Who?" I asked.
"That Conway Twitty guy."
"It's Kanye."
"Whatever. I don't know who any of these people are. The only people I recognize are Beyonce and Justin Timberland."
"Timberlake."
"That's what I said. Where are all the normal people, like Cher?"
"I don't think Cher's making an appearance this year. "
"Well, she's still very relevant. She's taking over for Celine Dion when she leaves Vegas."
"I didn't know that."
"Now you do."

A little later, on Adam Levine...

"Do you know who he is, Mom?" I asked.
"No."
"He's the lead singer for a band called Maroon 5. He's supposedly a big playboy and gets into everyone's pants."
This surprised my mom. "He does?"
"Yep."
"Well, he's not getting into mine."

Ha ha... I love her.

PS - How good did Dr. Dre look? Has he always been this cut?



PPS - International readers... I don't think MTV is letting you watch the video of Brit's performance. (Some copyright thing.) Here's another link to it.

I Wanna Be A Rock Star

My dad retired to Arizona a few years ago and, to keep himself busy, got a job working security at a stadium in Phoenix. In addition to working sporting events, he gets to work during concerts as well and it's always funny to hear his take on these. (After a Rolling Stones concert, for example, his big observation was... "That Mick Jagger sure has a lot of energy.")

About a month ago he told me about a big "acid rock" band that was coming called "Nickelodeon." (Nickelback.) I'm not a big fan of acid rock or Nickelback, for that matter, but I love the video for their new song "Rockstar."

This is definitely one of those songs that you like more after seeing the video.

BTW... who says "acid rock" anymore?

Sneezing Panda

I love this.

50 Cent Vs. Kanye

So these two jokers have albums coming out on the same day and are challenging each other as to who's going to sell more copies. (You probably didn't need the recap, but my mom's been reading this blog—say hi to her!—and she will.) If I had to choose between them and say who I hope sells more, I'd go Fiddy all the way. Not because I necessarily like his music more than Kanye's, but he was a crack dealer and crack dealers are cool.

I'm kidding. Drugs aren't funny. Well, maybe mild ones are... but not crack. You know what else isn't funny? Meth. If there are any little kids reading this blog (God, I hope there aren't), don't ever do meth. It's what I call a "dumb drug", like it will literally cause brain damage and make you retarded. I'm not joking—you will become retarded if you start doing meth. And your teeth will probably fall out, too. And you might even scratch your face off. Listen kiddies, if you need speed, be smart and stick with cocaine like everyone else.

Oh my Gosh, I'm kidding again. My mother's gonna be horrified... I'm sorry, Mom! I'm just a little slap-happy this morning, that's all. Too much coffee, because caffeine is my drug of choice. See? You raised me well.

Back to 50 Cent... he didn't sell drugs on purpose, he was a victim of circumstance. I saw his movie. His mom was killed when he was 6 or 8 or something and he just fell into it, you know? It happens. The important thing is that he doesn't sell them any more, he just sings about it. Seriously though, I love him and his slur. (He got shot, Mom, like eight times by another drug dealer and it caused him to have a slur.) I also like Kanye, though, and especially love that new song of his, "Now that that don't kill me, can only make me stronger..." It's very inspirational. But I'm still sticking with 50.

The Trouble With Trouble

It seems that no one wants poor little Trouble. (Apparently, she's a biter.)

Since I have a weakness for unwanted animals,* I'd like to volunteer to take Trouble (and the $12 million that comes along with her.)

*The story of Eva the Yorkie in 20 Times a Lady is the true story of how I got Beverly. She was on sale at a pet store because she was "older" than all the other pups there. (Yes, I bought a dog at a pet store, I know it's wrong, save your hate mail.) She wasn't even on display with the other dogs, but was kept downstairs all alone, by herself. The only reason I even knew she was there was because I asked if they had any girl Yorkies and a worker there was like, "Yeah... but she's downstairs. No one wants to buy her because she's older. Do you want to see her?" I was like, "Um... yeah." For the record, she was 4 months old. Here she is on her first day home:

How could no one want that?

The Cute Electricians

Why does this happen to me?

Something's wrong with my electricity so my landlord had to hire an electrician to come over and fix it. He usually hires the biggest schmos off the street to fix things or sends someone up from his butcher shop, but this time he hired two young, cute electricians who happen to work for the fire department AND I HAVEN'T SHOWERED ALL DAY AND I'M STILL IN MY PAJAMAS.

Why?

UPDATE: One of them is getting married on Saturday and the other one is his best man. I don't know if the best man is single or not. Maybe I should just get naked while I wait for them to finish and see if he bites. (Bites? That didn't sound right...)