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Vrouw_Jonker
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Name: Stephanie
Interests: History, currently "Early Modern (Early American)".
Politics/current events.
Efficiency.
Eclectic Music.
The study of logic.
Expertise: Laundry.
Coffee.
Dark Chocolate.
Multi-national linguistics.
Picking a winner.
Occupation: Education/training
Industry: Nonprofit
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
5/25/2004
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| Happy 4th in New York Harbor | | |
| DigititisIt occurs to me that I am very tough on phalanges. Pretty much every majorly minor injury I've ever sustained involved one or more fingers or toes:
1) Smashed the third distal digit on my right hand in a very heavy lead safe door at my dad's drugstore when I was 7.
Dang, that hurt.
2) Chopped off a little chunk of the tip of [I believe it was] the third distal digit of my left hand whilst assisting with hamburger-making in the hometown grocery store's butcher shop.
Yes, we did discard that batch of hamburger. And was that a bummer of a summer job (but a job, nevertheless!). My usual tasks were wrapping various trays of various meats sent down the line by the butcher, Mr. Farney, who was commuting 90 minutes each way during the recovery from a heart attack by the local butcher, Mr. Pickard. One evening, Mr. Farney ran over a guy on the interstate on his way home (it wasn't his fault) and drove almost the rest of the way home before he came out of his dazed shock & realized what'd happened. We also had Pete, a recent high-school graduate, who was undergoing a sort of butcher apprenticeship. He & my fellow meat-wrapper, Paula, used to play "Name That Fight Song" (whistling) to try to alleviate the crushing boredom. The arch-rival Medford (OK) Cardinals' song was "On Wisconsin". Go figure! We also used to mess with the store owner's radio station piped into the store (he preferred some serious Easy Listening, having been a veteran of "The Big One: Dubya Dubya Two"). We, of course, would tune in whatever passed for rock in 1976.
3) Did a serious number on the left 2nd & 3rd fingertips with a lawnmover in my early twenties.
Well, the chute was clogged & I was just going to reach down next to it & knock the grass plug away when "zzzzzzzzt!"
~"Yikes, that was clos--- AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" A couple of spiral fractures, several stitches, major pain & suffering, not to mention embarassment, and to add insult to injury, the ER crew cleaned the wounds out (post-xylocaine) with a toothbrush for which I was billed some ridiculous price but it wasn't covered by my insurance because it was a "cosmetic item."
4) This is where we move to the tootsies, for which, of course, nothing can be done but immobilizing with tape & offering a stiff-soled really ugly shoe-like thing. Dropped a sewing machine (don't ask) on the metacarpals, causing a bunch of bruising & swelling, but no breaks!
5) Stubbed my middle toe on the foot of the bed & fractured the proximal bone. This was a scene of writhing around the front-room floor with about 4 or 5 little kids staring at me & freaking out a little bit until Dad got home from work to take me to the ER.
6) Seriously bruised another toe when a pound glass jar of mayonnaise fell out of the fridge door onto it. sigh.
7) Dislocated the pinkie on my right foot stubbing it on a bookcase the other evening. Whoa, was that a creepy angle it assumed until taped up for a day or two:
That's not mine, but some other person's. My foot is ever so much more dainty & attractive. Except for that pinkie.
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| Coincidence? 
Song: Martin:
"Viva la Vida" Chris
Livin La Vida Loca Ricky
I'm just saying.
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| Wait, Let's Do This InsteadFor a mere 3 million pounds: A full-sized replica of an 18th-century British frigate!!
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