Monday, March 30, 2009

i'll just call it "handruff"

well, it's monday again. i've got nothing to say here, as i expended all my brain cells editing this stupid poem and reading this awesome book and writing a redonkulous literary analysis and finishing an annotated bibliography (for those of you who just said. "huh?", an annotated bibliography is exactly like the third circle of hell, but with more rules) about a research paper i haven't started about the correlation between educational level and birth rate in the U.S. which, oddly enough, is a requirement for my women's lit class and has nothing to do with the rest of the class except the fact that my professor is the devil. she signs emails "cheers" so i think she's either british or ironic, and she also happens to be my academic advisor, so i have to meet with her tonight to discuss my current status as "on academic probation", a result of having dropped my algebra class last semester and subsequently falling below the university's required completion rate, even though my academic advisor and my algebra professor and the financial aid office all gave the thumbs up when i asked if i could drop the class, now i still have to pay the piper. in addition to meeting with my advisor today, i also have to attend an hour-and-a-half academic success workshop on saturday, during which i'll be scolded and retaught how to use a day planner and told once again about the tutoring center and threatened with expulsion. it's the closest i've ever been to feeling dangerous, not counting that one time when i jogged on the wrong side of the street for 3 blocks because the other side was under construction.

on the arm front, i was re-casted last thursday because my arm swelled up too big for the glitter cast, and they asked me if i was using it and i said "i'm trying not to", which was exactly the opposite of the truth, so they reprimanded me and cut off the old cast - the under side of my twiggy arm is a bright green bruise, and it really freaked me out that when they had me wash it in the sink, it felt like a nerve was pinched, but they said that's just because the tissue around the nerves is giant and swollen. i dont know how they know, since my nerves arent visible on the xray, but whatever - they're the experts, and plus if i end up with severed nerves, i can sue them for enough to buy a chipotle franchise, which would be awesome because i love hispanics and i'd have all the guacamole i could ever want.

the new cast is waterproof because instead of gauze, they wrapped my arm in bubble wrap, presumably because they have a contract with the post office, which is great because they need all the money they can get or next thing you know, we'll be getting our mail by donkey again, and i dont know about you, but i don't have that kind of time to wait for the new hustler. the skin on my mummy hand has gone from stinky to lizardy, and i'm starting to look kind of like an amphibian, which would be great around halloween but does nothing for easter, and i anticipate some major exfoliation in my future. my arm above the cast has a serious case of dandruff, and i think rubbing lotion on it is actually making it worse.

also, we are expecting a couple inches of snow tomorrow and my cast does not fit into a glove OR my winter coat, nor can i operate an ice scraper, so i'll be the psycho in a t-shirt driving with one arm and looking out from an eye-sized clearing wiped in the windshield of my car - i'd stay clear of the area if i were you.

17 comments:

  1. good ol' zipbag of bones, the easter dinosaur

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  2. "handruff".fuckin hilarious

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  3. Dear Lizard Arm,
    Casts suck. So do annotated bibliographies (I just finished my masters - only the sadistic professors wanted those. Unfortunately, most of them were sadistic.)

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  4. Hey, if you start hearing the bubble wrap popping you'll know it's time to go back to the hospital again. They do know what they're doing.

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  5. Thank God I don't live near you. Not because of the driving thing, but because you'd invariably ask me to tutor you in Algebra. And at this point in my life, I'm waaayyy to lazy.

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  6. At least when someone comments on the bad smell of your arm you can whack them with the cast. That might loosen up more of that handruff. You could just call the handruff unsparkly glitter.

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  7. Oh Cat, I feel bad laughing at your pain, but then, you are putting it out there for all of us to giggle at, you little attention whore, you.
    And hopefully it makes you feel a bit better knowing that you greatly improved my sucky Monday. Thanks!

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  8. I LOVE your new "About me" section! It really classes up the joint, especially the labia graft. Smart move going with the majora.

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  9. When I had my arm cast I lost a quarter down it trying to scratch. There is no way to explain that to the orthopedist.

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  10. I had a leg cast for 4 months when I was a kid. I guess I had legdruff. And I discovered how to open up clothes hangers to scratch the shit out of my leg. I thought I was going to go crazy.

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  11. Forgive me, I've been MIA for a while, but when you say "glitter cast", please, oh, please tell me it is an actual cast that has glitter on it. Even if it isn't, would you mind humoring me? All that being said, is your arm okay? I mean, is it sad that it doesn't have a snazzy cast anymore?

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  12. Dude. You ROCK the run-on sentences. Love it.

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  13. just. laughing. so many ways of wrong.

    SOrry I am amused at your expense, but you do put it all out there for us.

    At least you can take a shower now, to like warm up, since lizards don't like the cold?

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  14. That last paragraph has me laughing SO HARD. I think your lack of punctuation is making it even funnier. I know it's not funny, but Cat, it is SO FUNNY.

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  16. I hope you made it out in the snow with your wife beater t-shirt and your bubble wrap. Thanks for keeping the post office in business, they really DO need the money. I heard they're trying to switch to five days vs six. Then I'll have nothing to do with Elliot at 9:45 on Saturdays when we usually walk to the mailbox.

    I'm interested to learn about education level and birth rate but I'm pretty sure I already know the outcome of that one.

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  17. thank god. I'm not the only one who gets Hustler.

    P.S. I have been an asshole and completely behind. But, my boy and I just read all of your arm blogs the other day and he fucking loves x-rays and bones and was teaching me everything about your injury. Personally, I am just pissed that I missed out on helping pick out the cast. If I send you my address can you get your donkey to bring over some leftover percocet?

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You.Yeah, you. Speak the fuck up.