Friday, November 9, 2007

Notes from the Red Door Cafe

Forgive me if there are more typos in this post than ever have dared to exist before. I am currently hunched, catlike, over a jurassic computer in the Red Door lounge at Muhlenberg. A group of my friends are playing with sticks and pretending to be all mature and sophisticated about it.

They call it pool. I call it, "oooh! shiny objects! Pretty colors!"

I've always been sort of prejudiced against pool as a form of recreation, perhaps of its unavoidable connotations with the swimming pool. I'm the type of person who could live in a swimming pool, so I don't appreciate any reference to this lovely word without the promise of a nice dip afterwords.

One thing I hate about this computer right now is the lack of a wristpad. My laptop also lacks a wristpad (oh, lackaday!) but I at least have the desk on which to rest my poor, weatherbeaten hands. When I realize it's only November, I cry.

I burned my hands a few days ago. They were not so happy about this because they were already in the red due to the grizzled weather we've been having lately. I really like that word, even though it doesn't sense make in the of much context. It makes me think of grizzly bears and sizzling grilled cheese, which, in turn, makes me think of sizzling grizzly bears. If you can picture being set upon by a pack of sizzling grizzlies, you'll be able to empathize with my plight.

So, anyway, my hands suffered some pretty spindly burns.

Don't ever use hot baked beans as a compress.

This is not exactly what I did. I was getting some beans in the Garden Room, with the object of liberally coating the lining of my taco shell, when a conglomoration of beaness propelled itself out of the shell into which it had been planted and onto the tender knuckles of my left hand. I spewed curses in return, and stood very still for several moments like a burnt ferrett.

Then I found a napkin, and my knuckles will never be the same. I'm now going to go back to my room or something and apply a cold compress of lotion.

Again, I wish I had a sticky tounge. None of this would have happened.

4 comments:

cindy silverstein said...

Awh...Sorry for the knuckles.

Madeline said...

Um, so we both burned the shit out of ourselves this week? It didn't really hurt when I got hot chocolate all over myself, but, um, I was steaming for a while. Like, literally, there was steam rising off of my body. I almost screamed, "I'm meltinnnggg!" but there was nobody around to get the joke. Sigh.

Um, so yeah, the cat show is next week and how disappointed am I that you can't come with me?

That was a rhetorical question. Such as.

Madeline said...

But you can still answer it if you like. Rate my disappointment on a scale of 1-100.

Anonymous said...

So sorry sweetheart. You have to watch those beans. Sometimes they can become evil.

Papa