Hand injury notwithstanding, I've finally, finally been able to begin painting the inside of the house. It feels so good to start to make the place feel more like home.
Here are some before and after photos of the living room.
BEFORE: This was the prior owners' living room (is it very rude to say, blech?).
AFTER: I still need to put curtains up, but I am so, so happy to be rid of that Mountain Dew paint color (photos are starring, Blue, the blue point Siamese; Abrahm, the chocolate point Siamese; and scenes from Parks & Recreation).
Sorry that a couple of these photos are sideways, Blogger is not cooperating and won't show them as rotated.
My garage door has seen better days. It is manual and runs on a rusty chain and pulley and jumps the track with regularity. On Sunday the chain came off the pulley and jammed. Again. So I pulled out the ladder, climbed up, reached overhead, and wrenched the chain back on. And at that instant, the full tension of the righted chain caught three fingers on my right hand and crushed them into the pulley.
The pain was excruciating. So excruciating that I can't really remember it. I do remember immediately jerking my arm to free my hand. But it wouldn't budge. I tried again, and again, and again. No movement. I quickly lost all feeling in my hand. I yanked some more. Still nothing. I was feeling dizzy. My cell phone was in the house. I began yelling for help, but none of my neighbors were outside and no one heard me. I had no idea what shape my hand was in, but I knew that if I didn't get free soon, I was facing something very serious. And I would pass out. That movie that I could never watch flashed through my mind--the one where the guy had to saw his own arm off after getting caught in some rocks while hiking.
I yelled and yanked and yelled and yanked, And then, although I have no idea how I did it, my hand was free.
A first look proved that my fingers were intact but the tips of three were crushed. They were purple and bloody and misshapen. I could not tell if one was missing its nail or not. I began to feel woozy and staggered into the house. Not trusting myself to be able to drive, I dialed 911, slumped to the floor holding my hand above my heart, and waited for the ambulance.
Six hours and one hand surgery later, I was released a little after 2am. In the end, I am extremely lucky. As the blood began to flow, my fingers began to regain their shape and look like fingers again. Despite the lacerations, my tendons are all intact. One nail needed to be surgically removed (cringe) and the nail bed repaired (more cringe) but it is expected to grow back. Only one finger is actually broken. Its broken all the way through, but it is also expected to fully heal, and without needing to be pinned.
Upon posting this I will be researching new garage doors.
The coming true of a dream that I didn't even know I had.
"For this week's episode, Saturday Night Live and Portlandia star Fred Armisen co-hosts the entire hour, and he does it in character. He'll be imitating a public radio personality, one familiar to This American Life listeners. The theme of the episode is doppelgangers. Armisen says he worked up the imitation hoping to do it on SNL, but the public radio personality isn't quite famous enough to be mocked on network TV. Tune in this weekend, or get the podcast Sunday night!"
After the sudden break-up, and as a baby step in my climb out of the depths of despair, I had to figure out what to do about that trip. I ultimately invited an old friend who I've known for 20 years to come visit me in Pretty Big City and then accompany me to the capstone island. Old Friend had given up way too may hours listening to me sob on the phone this past spring. And she'd been through an even shittier year than me, having been diagnosed with breast cancer and undergone surgery, chemo and radiation. I owed her an all expenses paid few days on a beautiful island, for sure.
We went in early August. And although it was no longer the romantic getaway that I had initially envisioned, it was a great time. The island was so beautiful that after a couple of days, our heads finally exploded. At least that's what it felt like--every house, every street, every view was more beautiful than the next, and we almost couldn't take any more in. And in all of that there were only a couple of moments when I really felt GF's absence. It was a sign of progress made.
Juliet is a neophyte blogger sharing her life and adventures as a lesbian attorney superhero (okay, maybe not a superhero) working in "Big Law" and falling in love with the "Pretty Big City" that she calls home.