Apr. 5th, 2006

deoridhe: (Default)
This post is all about [livejournal.com profile] learan. Yes, this is from an old ass post; I never said I was reliable. 8P

[livejournal.com profile] learan is all but my little sister, but I unfortunately came a bit late for the "inflicting permanent psychological damage" portion of her life, and other people were better at that anyway. She always was cute, funny, and smart beyond her years. As a youngster she kept up with people several years her senior, and now she's all but the same age, mentally and emotionally at least. She can charm the trees out from under the birds if she wants too, and has a flair for connecting with people that I truly envy. She's managed in her short years to accomplish things that people decades her senior haven't pulled off, and some of them I didn't even know about until after the fact.

I tried to give her my love of poetry. I think it stuck. ;)

She also is, and this is vaguely embarrassing as an older sister to say - but if I can write it on her in sharpie I can surely type it into livejournal, very hott. With two /t/s because one is not enough. After watching that Nanny reality TV show I'm tempted to get the naughty sharpie, though! She keeps trying to deny it! OMG! She has the flattest stomach I have ever seen, and this great mischievous smile, and one of these days we need to get her into something tight and girly and go out to play.

HOTT. Did you hear me, [livejournal.com profile] learan? HOTT.

I have a sharpie, and I'm not afraid to use it!!!

Back update

Apr. 5th, 2006 02:27 pm
deoridhe: (Default)
Okay, embarrassing story of my injury. It's embarrassing because it's lame.

I was going to ship my old computer, now dubbed the evil computer, to a friend. I had been remiss in sending it because I am lame, so I was determined ot get it out the door that day, damnit!

Being a wise Deoridhe, I decided that boxing it up then lugging the box was a Bad Plan (tm), so I brought the components into work separately and was going to ship it from there. (For those who want to point and laugh, I haven't shipped it yet. I need to set up the box, then bribe someone to fill it for me, for I cannot lift most of the stuff going into it myself. Woe.) I considered getting a cart to bring it upstairs, but Deo is STRONG Deo!!! Deo is TOUGH Deo!!! Deo doesn't NEED no stinking CART!

Deo at least used the elevator, resting it against the wall.

Now, there's a huge counter behind my desk, but it had a lot of stuff on it, so I decided, in my infinite wisdom, to set the computer on the floor.

For those keeping score at home, this is a bad idea.

I slowly dropped down until I was in a full crouch (not twisting) on the ground, then leaned forward to set the computer on the floor. As I was doing this, something went TWIST in a painful way in the middle of my back. It felt kind of like the winching of a blanket.

Then the pain started.

And I remembered I was wearing a short skirt.

We can gloss over the lying sideways on the floor crying, the propping self up on office chair and rolling it to reach the phone, and the destruction of the surface of my desk to reach the keyboard so I could send my roommate an email to come and get me parts. And don't even ask about how hard it is to type my password one handed, okay? Fucking nightmare. Let's go straight to the shiny ER people who bodily lifted me onto a stretcher, then drove slowly to the hospital. I prefer not to dwell on the half hour or so before they gave me drugs (ahh, valium, I would date with you! ah, vicodin, I would date with YOU!), though I will mention in passing it took two doses of valium, two of vicodin, and one of ibuprophen before they could get me standing up and using a walker.

Yeah. It sucked.

It still kinda sucks. I'm ready for the pain to stop, already!

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Deoridhe

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