Sunday, July 15, 2007

Just Another Boring Sunday Night

Really, I shouldn't be allowed to stay in my house longer than the eight hours I require for sleep. Last sunday I blew every fuse in the building and was without electricity(and air conditioning) just long enough for me to eat all of the beef jerky out of my food storage (it's always the first to go in a state of emergency). This Sunday, I bonked my head on the open cabinet door and sustained a bloody wound. The fact that I leave cabinet doors open while cooking pancakes will not come as a surprise to anyone who knows me well...especially Crystal and Alie who were the self-appointed "follow up safety and cleaning crew" in various apartments around the U.S. What might be surprising is the calmness with which I handled said trauma.

I fell to the floor, cradled my head while cursing the designers of THIS CABINET DOOR and tried to imagine the meeting in which this torture device was approved for manufacture. "I have an idea! Let's make it metal, with a sharp razor-like edge and put it in a tiny space like a kitchenette in Korea...surely, it will be the toast of Asia!!!" I would also like to point out with some irony that the cabinet door is the one emblazoned with the virtuous words, "Patience" and "Balance" neither of which were present when I muttered more than a few other CHOICE words at the cabinet.

When I saw the blood, I calmly got a towel and applied it to my head, got some shoes (choosing the brown sparkly ones just in case I had to go to the hospital) and went to Cherie and Regan's apartment to have them look at the top of my head which is surprisingly difficult to view even with 2 mirrors. The funny part is that my hair just kind of looked like I tried to dye it...fresh blood on blond hair looks strikingly sassy instead of gruesome.

We determined no emergency room was necessary but as I sit hear writing and nerdily blogging about my stupidity and subsequent brain damage, I have a massive headache. Maybe next week, I can start a fire just to keep it interesting.

ps. Lumina said this post should be called "Ninny Gets A Headwound" and while it made me laugh it reminded me too much of this SNL skit from when I was a teenager called
Massive Headwound Harry...does anyone else remember this HILARIOUS skit circa 1989?


Hey, It's Ansley said...

Dana Carvey with a disgusting piece of meat stuck to his head and that dog trying to eat it. Yep, hilarious! Hope you feel better, those cabinets are especially vicious.

lovestrong said...

I accidentally put a knife in my arm and also cursed my stupidity. For awhile I look like I had tried to kill myself. Lame.

Marie said...

Pobrecita! Go lie down!

I reserve my cursing for the objects that jump out in front of my very sensitive pinkie toes. (What MORON puts legs on a coffee table??)

Loved Massive Headwound Harry. Remember: if you decide to pass out, don't do it on someone's white couch.

Michael said...

man that looks like it hurt

I stub my toes occasionally but I'm far more likely to bang my head on an open cabinet. I'm just glad they aren't made of razor edged metal here in the good old U-S-of-A

Sara McOllie said...

I feel your pain. I used to live in a house build in the 50's that had the windows that opened on a vertical hinge by crank. On a lovely afternoon with friends in the backyard, I stand to greet my newly arrived brother only to be stabbed by the metal window just above my bangs hairline. Unfortunately, there were witnesses to my chosen words. Fortunately, my brother could put to use his medical degree and assure me no stitches were needed.

lenalou said...

Honey, that's a lot of blood! You want to watch yourself (says the clumsiest girl in the world).

And while we're sharing stories, my cousin once walked through a glass door. Relatively unscathed.

Anonymous said...

Yeah you could also have called the post "Massive Headwound KaRyn". I love the last picture, you look so downtrodden. (not that I would love it if you were downtrodden).

Peace Out,

Dainon said...

"He smells MY dog!"


BigBro said...

Of course I remember him. He goes hand in hand with Mr. Short Term memory. I have a head wound like the one you have except I had my little "Dangle" removed. My Cyst, named Dangle, is missing and six stiches have taken his place.