July 6th, 2006
|03:36 pm - More bloodletting!|
Things are currently going well. I've read everyone's LJ's in the past three or four days, and am about to catch up on the past three days chronologically.
I appreciate that some of you have been less than verbose. :)
To compliment my cut-open foot, I have now sliced open my hand. On the 4th of July, I was doing dishes and was trying to clean out the inards of a glass when the glass shattered (damn my big hands) and a large chunk of glass slid easily into the knuckle of my right index finger. It went fairly deep, and there was no pain (it was obviously very sharp. So no tearing occurred, and it's not a long cut, but it is definitely deep. There's some pain for typing and mouse clicking, and given the location of the cut and the depth of the shard, I imagine that I nicked the tendon that runs across the back of my knuckle. I know what a small tear in a tendon feels like (every athelelte does), and this is a real small-scale feeling of that.
It hasn't really stopped bleeding. Well, I take that back. It has started, then stopped, then started again about six times. My band-aid supply is running very low at this point. Between two dressings that need replaced at least twice daily, I've gone through a pack and a half in the past 2 or 3 weeks.
I honestly believe that I didn't truly believe that glass could cut the human body. I think that I thought it just. . . didn't do that. I think this has to do with the fact that I have never been cut by glass in the past, nor seen anyone cut by it. I've walked on glass, stepped on broken bottles, and never had it cut me. So mostly, this entire episode was accompanied by wide-eyed wonderment and surprise.
I mean, I thought glass hurting a person was an old wives' tale. Kind of like putting salt on a bird's tail. Well, old wives and the Red Cross. I saw enough training videos to know that the Red Cross certainly thought that glass was dangerous.
In all, my life is full of blood-letting, and I'm not even a devotee of Kali. Someone better fix the blood-letting, because I'm not fixing the devotee part. I've no desire to hang out with a goddess who has hearts ripped out and dips her sacrifices into a salsa made of burning! (Besides, I stick with deities I can believe in: I have a whole post fermenting about Usas and how I feel about her.)
And I think that tomorrow, for lunch, I will go to the library. There's some Microfilm I need to look at, unless something sexier comes along to steal me away from research. Tonight, I'm skipping out of work early (via a late lunch at 4:00) and at 4:30 or so, I'm going to the movie Hoot, which supposedly is entirely scored with Jimmy Buffett songs.
I'm really hoping to get a call tonight from someone. We'll see.
Current Location: Southeast of Disorder
Current Mood: amused
Current Music: "Creola", -JB
The burning! The burning! Oh silly western white boy, you couldn't understand Kali even if you wanted to. Don't you know what a loving and wonderful goddess she is? I mean look at the millions of people who worship her and how wonderful their lives are! :P
"All I need to know about Kali I learned from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom"
I'm afraid that's all I have to say about that :)
Sometimes, I think my wonderful, silly, western white boy view of her might just be. . . well, charitable from what I hear.
Jerk, what about Jenny's birthday?
Right after the movie. That's the plan.
Oh, sweetie. Leave the blood, bronze and fire to me. You take the chaos and we'll call it even.
Done deal. Trust me, I won't mind at all having the chaos. Keeps things interesting.
Blood, bronze and fire are all rather boring, comparatively.
Is it me, or are you hyper today?
I admit, I've never believed in people being "hyper". The term was often applied to kids who just wanted attention when I was in grade school.
So perhaps, by that definition, yeah. ;)
But I'm not bouncing off the walls, no. :)
And still no gory pictures of a hand or a foot.
Speaking of killjoys, it's official that I cannot make your watermelon-go-boom party. Got free tickets to KI (along with free food passes and free parking!) that are good only for that day! :x!
Eventually I will get to one of your blow-things-up parties, though. They seem very... wholesome. ;D
Wait.....a guy that does dishes..?
This is creepy..
I try and do them as often as possible. I hate to have them pile up.
Not that it doesn't happen, but yeah.
I like a clean sink.
There are other Goddesses with an interest in blood. I could introduce you, if you wanted. :-D
That's okay. The Morrigan is just Eris dressed in Goth.
But thanks for the offer. If I ever decide to go back to a goth club, I'll know who to call :)
forbids blood sacrifice -- so just make sure you don't associate with ADF
while you're doing this silly bloodletting thingy...
2. Hmm. Bush/Kali, Bush/Kali, Bush/Kali... Ah, hellwithit! Quit mucking around with the lesser evils and pick Cthulu, ya big sissy!
3. The Red Cross might suggest you have a professional decide whether you need stitches. Then again, it may already be too late and you'll have a lovely scar with which to impress the ladies. Especially those in your dreamland (that kind usually likes whatever you want her to...).
I was very careful to take my ADF membership card out of my wallet before I did dishes.
The Red Cross has all sorts of ideas about things. I prefer my ideas. And my dreams.
But I'd never want a girl who liked what I wanted her to. Call me old fashioned, but I want a girl who thinks for herself.
Or would that technically make me "new fashioned"?
Usually that sort of thing is related to a Mars transit (cutting, blood, etc.). That usually passes fairly quickly...
Unless of course it's part of a bigger transit ;) But those are usually more psychological than physical. The physical stuff usually passes quickly :)
Have I told you lately that you crack me up? Because you do. The world needs more arm-chair astrologists. XD
Hmm. A few summers ago, when I was in Ireland, I was trying to open a crab leg and shoved a bit of shell straight into one of my fingers. It was a laceration, not a cut, and that was when I found out the priest had died (because my father had to go up to the dispensary in Achill to get some steri strips).
Woah! Yikes. Heal up soon!