WTF.

So I finally got that nasty cut taken care of at the Urgent Care center the next day. They said it was a little late to get stitches (12 hours after the cut), so they just cleaned it up, taped it up and gave me a tetanus shot, and asked me to keep it dry. They said to put a bag on my foot when I bathe.

It kinda messed up my weekend plans a bit (I missed the baby shower), but as a consequence I was able to enjoy the sunshine outside of S.F., in my convertible, and attend my two-year-old second cousin's birthday in Palo Alto.


(Photo taken by Pengrin.)

Despite getting my foot wet in the shower after all, (the bag trick didn't work), it seems to be recovering okay, and the tetanus shot in my arm hurts more than the cut.

But today, I opened the fridge, and a jar of crushed ginger came crashing to the floor. Yup. More shards of glass on my kitchen floor.

Seriously, WTF.

Luckily the crushed ginger held the glass jar together a bit better. I didn't cut my foot but a teensy glass bit almost got stuck in the SAME foot.

The annoying thing about my kitchen floor, is that it's some kind of glossy textured tile, so even though I think I've cleaned it all up, it's hard to tell visually, if I've missed anything. So I'll be wearing shoes into the kitchen for the remainder of my stay here. In fact, kitchen combat boots are sounding like a good idea.

Keep your pants on.

One of the great things about living alone, is that you can walk around in your undies and not worry about it...

...until you fix yourself up a plate of snacks and a glass falls off your dishrack and shatters on the floor, cutting your foot at 10:30pm at night, leaving a shockingly big smudge of blood on the floor.

It happened so fast, and so unexpectedly, I wasn't sure what to make of it. It was kinda bigger than the usual accidental cut, but not huge. It hurt instantly. And there was glass all over the kitchen floor. I grabbed a paper towel to apply pressure.

I peeked at the cut. It was maybe a half-inch big? Ow! Is that bad? I couldn't decide. Is that big enough to need stitches? How long do I have to hold this pressure?? What if I hit a bad vein? Ow!

Bear in mind, I have been watching a lot of CSI:NY recently, including an episode where a bike messenger died from a swiss-army scissor stab wound.

I really didn't know how bad this was. Could I handle this on my own? Will my regular bandages work for this? Do I need to go to the hospital for stitches? How do I even get out of here without stepping on glass, while holding one foot? How do I get my pants on while applying pressure on the wound? Am I going to scar from this? Can I clean up the glass while I have one foot held with a paper towel? WHAT the F!

(Also I should note, that this morning, I missed the bus to work and ended up driving my recently fixed bug to work, which consequently had a flat tire, maybe 8 miles away from work. And this was the third flat tire I've had in the last year. It made me seriously consider selling the car.) I was simultaneously disturbed and amused at the ridiculous level of bad luck I was having in one day.

I figured I should call someone just in case, or for some advice. While grabbing my foot, I hopped carefully out of the kitchen. Who do I call? It's 10:30! My brother is in Chicago, two hours ahead, with a baby. Penny, who had my keys, had gone to sleep. Tater, who also had my keys, was in another state. KP, who also had my keys, was probably at home in Sunnyvale.

Finally, I called Jen. I told her, "I just dropped a glass. And I cut my foot. And I have no pants on." And I was laughing. Kind of hysterically. And then nervously.

She offered to come over, but then I realized... she can't get in my building w/o a key. Unless I meet her downstairs. But I'd have to get pants on. I guess I could throw my keys out the window. Is it really worth all that trouble? The cut wasn't hurting anymore. I looked up, and I saw some blue masking tape (for artwork). I calmed down for a sec and told Jen I'd be okay; I'd just wrap my paper-towel bandage with some tape and finally go vaccuum my mess of glass on my kitchen floor.

So that's what I did, and I still have this ridiculous bizarro paper-towel-art-taped bandage on my foot. I hope it heals suitably by morning, so I can actually put normal shoes on to go to Jenny's baby shower. Right now it doesn't hurt. Unless I touch it or move my foot too much.

Also, as I washed up the dishes, I realized that I had broken my favorite green drinking glasses. Dammit.

I finally fixed up some crackers, cheese, jam, carrots, and a glass of Target-boxed-wine for dinner. I think I'm going to watch a little more Detective Danny Messer to soothe my nerves. Frankly, I'm surprised that all these CSI:NY stories haven't freaked me out about living by myself. Maybe all that Danny Messer cuteness helps me forget about my worries.

Lessons learned: Keep your pants on. Or maybe just pay attention when you stack your glasses on that dishrack. Or keep some kind of tape and tissue handy. Or don't own glass when you live alone.

Songs of the Day: "It's a Disaster" by Ok Go and "Everything's Just Wonderful" by Lily Allen

I can't wait until I move to NYC, where I won't have to drive an hour to work, and I'll have people to live with again. Sheesh.

Somebody kick me.

I just spent like an hour figuring out tech support, to fix my Dell monitor, only to find that all I had to do was to jiggle the cables.

On the upside, my monitor is working, and I could have sworn I saw Scott Speedman walk by when I stopped for lunch at Citizen Cupcake today. If it wasn't Scott Speedman, it was a really good lookalike. He was in a totally ratty t-shirt, had earbuds on, and really greasy-looking hair. But that seems like him. Hmm. I like him better when they clean him up for tv. I considered following him, but I then I snapped back to reality and had to keep going, as I had to go run errands and do that work thang.

Also, I found a really odd image of a crocheted chicken from yesterday's Google Image search for "chicken nugget." It was from a crocheting blog that just cracks me up. It is genius. Check out Monster Crochet and make sure you see the creation inspired by Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds." And if you like that, then you'll like Twinkie Chan's awesome food scarves.

Also you have to check out the delightful little "socially rhythmic" (dancing) robot that Joe IM'd to me. I really dig the song by Spoon, too.

Enter the Nugget Challenge

What do you think of, when you hear the word "nugget"?

Recently, BK forwarded me this awesome little nugget: urban dictionary's definition of nugget.

What comes to my mind, are those delightfully golden-battered bits of rubbery ground chicken from Mickey D's that I used to affectionately eat, in my childhood days. Or golden nuggets. Basically I think of horrible fast food or gobs of material wealth. (What does that say about me?)

But the urban dictionary lists six pages of suggested slang definitions, ALL of which are hilarious, and so I have to accept that it is the best word ever.

The word has such a vast range between positive and negative meanings, including a tough-durable guy (See #51), an extremely attractive female (#53), a fat person (#7), a bizarrely elaborate prank I've never heard of (see #3), a nice booty (#30), and of course, various forms of feces. It's a very flexible form of slang, much like the F-word, but much cuter!

The #1 definition, though probably least used, is the best. With so many definitions, it becomes kind of confusing! It's like smurf-language, where the meaning of "smurf" has to be determined contextually.

And then I did an image search for "nugget" --which was equally strange in the range of results. When I switched it to "chicken nugget," Yahoo beat Google for giving me the great little angsty-nugget image you see above.

As I blog this, I feel this is only going to make it harder for people to believe that I have never in my life, smoked pot (unless you count getting a second-hand high at that Black-Eyed Peas concert). Nope, not even a good nugget (#2). But obviously, I have enough giggles, food cravings, and odd thoughts to do without.

***

So I offer you, my readers, The Nugget Challenge. No, I am not going to see who can break the record for sneakily turning backpacks inside out (again, #3).

I'm holding a creative writing contest. I challenge you to write a whole story that uses as many of the urban dictionary definitions of "nugget" as possible. If I get at least 3 submissions, I'll reward the winner with something awesome from my stash of stuff (since I have to purge my items) before I leave for NYC. OR, I'll create illustrations for the story. I might publish it here or make a little zine out of it. Or pitch it to a movie producer. We'll share in the riches.

I am the judge. I might recruit others to judge too if I feel like it.

For now, I'll pick an arbitrary deadline, like, oh... June 30. Since I'll be unemployed by then, I should have more time to read these wonderful nuggets of creativity, hopefully while I'm traipsing around somewhere fantastic, like Italy, Spain, Costa Rica or the French Riviera. Here are some rough guidelines:

1. Fit it within 1-10 pages. If it's written like a screenplay... I'll say 30 pages max.
2. Include your contact info, name or pseudonym, favorite definition of nugget, and email it it to me.
3. Use at least 35 of the definitions (and mark them within the document, referencing the # definition from Urban Dictionary)

***

On a totally unrelated note, I just watched CSI:NY, and I feel like it was some kind of bizarrely veiled attempt to show that environmentalists are totally insane (some extremist eco-dude killed a chef for attacking a precious cockroach).

And I hate to say this, but my darling Detective Danny Messer needs to stop saying "Boom!" It's like his New York version of a Sherlock Holmes "Aha," except it's getting on my nerves. And really, what is he doing with that putzy Lindsay chick when he could be with ME???

I might have to transfer my CSI crush to Dr. Sheldon Hawkes, dorky forensics scientist Adam Ross, or melodramatic Detective Don Flack. Oh, decisions, decisions...

The Hermit returns home

Sigh.

After recovering from a cold and a nice catching-up with friends, involving shopping, food, dancing, booze, and all that good stuff, I am back to hermit-mode, sadly.

I am busy with a project at work, with a completely unreasonable timeline. And I still have to do my taxes. And my car is in the shop. And I just discovered that my computer monitor is broken at home. And my bedroom looks like it's been ransacked by a mob of robbers (it wasn't). And I have ten pieces of clothes that need a button mended, and another pile of clothes that needs ironing. And I need to see the dentist. And I am supposed to help plan a family reunion and figure out my move to nyc.

So don't talk to me, until maybe April 22 or May, when I'm back from Chicago or have quit my job. I may get testy with you.

(I could make exceptions for rides to/from the airport. Or if you have kidnapped Carmine Giovinazzo for me, I will speak to you. Otherwise, you have been warned.)

If you feel like talking to me, resist the temptation. Instead, try wasting your time on something like the Best of Craigslist, or stupid quizzes that tell you which Will Ferrell character you are:



Thanks for all the nice congratulations I got on my toy design school news. Now you'll have another reason to visit NYC!

BTW, apologies to those who view my blog all screwed up. For some reason it appears fine to me on my mac (Safari/Firefox) but apparently this column renders too wide on some browsers and then screws with the whole layout. But I need to browser-test other things that are more important than this blog for now. I may end up moving my blog to a new service anyway, cuz I think Google kinda pooters. How hard is it to scroll down, anyway!?

Gender-benders, Star Wars, and Ira Glass

I am just about recovered from a cold. I am also mentally in a daze, because quite a lot of remarkable things happened over the last couple weeks, including (in chronological order, and thus also revealing my "secret project"):

1. I heard a great episode of "This American Life," (well, it's also a bit sad--) called "Quiz Show." They interviewed various puzzle/quiz show competitors, including a guy who competes in the annual MIT Mystery Hunt. His puzzle-solving team is called, "Dr. Awkward" (You get points if you notice something interesting about that name).
   
   So I recommended this episode (on Podcast) to my friend who is big into puzzle competitions. Within a few days of hearing this episode, he just happened to meet one of the Dr. Awkward team members!


2. I met a very knowledgeable hermaphrodite, who likes to garden and tinker with her (his?) computer system. (What did you think I was going to say?)


3. I stayed up all night, finalizing toy design drawings and a portfolio for a college interview in New York.


4. I flew to New York and showed up at the interview, with about 6 hours of sleep over two days.


5. I entered what I thought would be a 1:1 interview, to discover a classroom of applicants, sitting alongside still-life arrangements of toys. We all drew toys for 30 minutes, for our drawing test.
   
   (After three straight days of constant drawing and coloring, my arm was about to fall off, from pain.)


6. One of the applicants looked like a very feminine woman, until she (he?) spoke, in a somewhat low voice. And I think someone called him "Doug."


7. As I observed some Illustration students debate whether Lando Calrissian was played by Billy Dee Williams, it dawned on me that perhaps a third of these applicants were about a decade younger than me, and that I was probably the 2nd oldest applicant in the room.


8. At my 1:1 "interview," I showed my work, and they didn't ask me any questions. Otherwise they seemed to react positively.


9. I nursed a hangover after dancing in NY Chinatown until 4am with three of my girlfriends: one from college, one from last year's SF training hikes, and one from work. It's great to find my different circles of friends merging together!


10. I found myself laughing at how cold it was, and how unprepared I was, as I walked to the New York MoMA in falling snow. I was in a miniskirt and open-toed shoes (and leggings, but no socks), walking in falling snow. Luckily I had a hat, coat, and gloves. (It wasn't snowing when I left the house!)


11. I discovered that with a California ID, you can get an 11% discount card at Macy's New York (resulting in a fantastic celebratory Tokidoki bag purchase, after completing my college interview)



12. I joined a group of coworkers to see a one-man show of Star Wars at the Post Theater in SF (It was very amusing, except I wish I had seen the movies recently, to have fully understood what was going on.) The Canadian actor, Charles Ross, has been doing this show for five years, and he also does a one-man show of "Lord of the Rings"!


13. I got a call at 6am from the Toy Design college, informing me that I'd get a letter and email. (They keep thinking I live in NY.) I dragged myself out of bed, to check my email. It said that the faculty is recommending me for acceptance into the program! (pending my transcripts and general formalities) --woot!


14. That same day, I learned that another team would be stealing--er, borrowing me at work, thanks, in part, to some pies. I didn't even get to have any of this pie, cuz I went home sick!


15. As I started to figure out my plans to move to New York, I pondered the idea of purchasing an adorable red-and-white VW Vanagon, for a road trip across country, like some kind of "Little Miss Sunshine" fantasy.


16. I discovered that they're making a TV show out of "This American Life"! And Ira Glass looks much cuter (in that totally nerdy Jewish way that I love) than I remember! (But he's old and married and in Chicago. Oh well. Did you know that he's related to Philip Glass and had a bad breakup with comic artist, Lynda Barry?)


17. Today, I met one of the guys from the Dr. Awkward team. He was visiting from L.A., AND get this: he attended the New York Toy Fair, where he was promoting a game he designed about "CSI."


18. It was 77° in San Francisco today, and I drove with the convertible top down. Beautiful.