Pinkie X?

So. Yesterday me and Eric and David and Ben went skiing/snowboarding. And it was necessary.

However.

I have been unable to regain feeling in the tip of my left pinkie finger since said snowboarding.

I have been walking around for parts of today with the tip of my pinkie covered up though, and have decided that if one must have something amputated, the pinkie tip is the way to go.

Maggie and Tom have decided I have nerve damage.

David says as long as my finger doesn't smell TOO bad, it's probably fine.

I have decided I agree with the nerve damage diagnosis, for after my irreparable error on the curtains at the Mill today I set about poking my finger tip with the needle and nothing.

But Tom said the nerves could regenerate after many many years. Which I am interpreting as maybe a week or two.

Man that was fun though.

I COMPLETE AWFUL HUGE INELEGANT X roughly 64 times during the first 3 feet down the mountain.

Which taught me the following:

1. X while snowboarding hurts. So it is best to not x.

2. Regaining one's feet (well- giant plastic foot) after x is rather difficult, and better if done quickly.

3. Always try snowboarding for the first time with three kind gentlemen friends who will board/ski along behind you and after you slam into the fence or the 'GO SLOWLY' sign and are laid out like an old squashed banana midway down the bunny trail, they will ski up behind you having gathered your belongings that have been jolted off your person in the wreckage. Like your scarf, your glasses, your gloves, your liver.

All three of them were very sweet in that regard. And helpful with tips on how not to fall over.

My greatest motivation not to fall over though was my stubborness. I finally decided not to fall over. And managed to avoid doing so 96% of the rest of the day.

Have never fallen down so hard in my life. Understand the term "bone-jarring" now.

And today feel like my muscles are made of rotten strung out Vienna sausage.

But that is irrelevant. Had a wonderful time. Would go again in a flash. And bring everyone.

I would love to teach my brother how to do that.

I must run.

Must go watch Margaret get really upset and throw things and scream obscenities.

Then we're going to put on footie pajamas and braid each other's hair while we watch horror movies until Adam comes home and finds us in each others laps with all the lights on screaming and horrorstruck.

He better bring snacks.

All the frosties X?

I say to the man working the Wendy's drive thru. I am met with silence. Silence and static.

Whatever. We found something to eat just the same.

Also, well, I suppose I could just write about yesterday and get to this part at the end.

So yesterday, my plan was to trot by the Empire and cajole Chase into letting me use a piece of paper.

Got it.

Then discovered a disease sitting on top of Ford's filing cabinet.

Also cleaned the cat's litter box prior to all of this. I love my cat.

I discover while I am flouncing around doing pirouettes while Adam uses the copy machine that I have gotten poop on my scarf.

Which might be the best facebook status update in years.

But I am stricken. I love this scarf. And this scarf has already been through a lot, as one time the ends of it were accidentally dangled in the toilet. X.

Adam glances over and notices me standing there stricken and calmly suggests I go wash it.

I do.

By the time I emerge from the bathroom with my tidy scarf everyone in a thirty mile radius has found out about the scarf poop.

I then decide to stay and help out with Myulin as I have no plans for the rest of the day.

My first assignment is to pull staples. Got it. On the resume.

Second- to beat the fire walls with a stick tied to little strips of fabric. I do this for awhile and then decide I don't like it very much. So I return the stick to Adam and Ginnie takes me next door to fix me up with the belt sander.

I am presented with a fabulous pair of green goggles (which in hindsight I should have stolen as I am going snowboarding today and could use them. Last time we went skiing all of my facial skin was lost somewhere on the bunny trail.) and some ear coverers. I am assigned to sand the merchant carts. I am photographed wielding the belt sander in all my regalia. Probably to be filed away for use in my obituary as everyone at every theater in the tri-cities is convinced I should never be allowed anywhere near a power tool.

But I sand successfully. I then go immediately next door and announce to everyone that I made the carts.

Then we go to lunch. We go to Tarrant's because I wanted to see Russell and they give big diet cokes.

Russell wasn't there, the diet coke was flat. Oh well. We console ourselves with garlic rolls and an ENTIRE pizza.

My next job is to base coat the carts. Adam gives me this gray bucket full of what he insists is white paint. But I'm no fool. It is clearly a bucket of albumen and mayonnaise.

I paint the cart, all the while sneaking cautious glances over my shoulder because I know that Ford is in the building rehearsing a tour and that means I am a sitting duck for him to creep up behind me and shout my name as he is wont to do.

I decide I don't like painting carts. When I am done, I go upstairs and staple music for Maleia while sitting in the floor.

I do enjoy sitting in the floor.

Riley thinks it's funny that I say "in" the floor. I suppose so.

I go back downstairs. There is another cart waiting for me. Adam gives me a LOOK. So I paint it.

Wendy recruits me to walk with her to Backstage to pick up the gels for Grapes of Wrath. I suggest that they use all brown gels.

I drive Adam home, and I draw a blank as to what happened between then and play practice.

Probably I did what I do, and got out a biography, turned the space heater on full blast and straddled it. One needs bigger space heaters. Because you have to alternate between getting your legs hot and your feet hot.

But then I pick up Whyvon and we go to China. In China I wave ribbons and flags and hand knives to people and practice tai-chi. I enjoy China.

I call Eric to verify ski plans for today. Eric tells me I should say hello when someone answers the phone. For the first time, I consider it. I think because he said it so calmly.

Adam and I go to Kinkos, where I crochet Matt's hat while Adam makes syllabi.

I feel a touch smug as I always do when I remember that Adam TEACHES AT A UNIVERSITY and I am his friend.

We then try to go to Wendy's where we are told that they are out of frosties.

So we go to Kroger. But all worked out for the best as I have been in the market for a large soft stuffed animal to sit on my pillows. I was trying to hold out for a round yellow chick, but was getting impatient.

Then, last night, behind the sign that said "Ladbury Eggs," was a gigantic hot pink stuffed unicorn. I could immediately tell that she loved me. So I saved her our of her crate where she was co-existing with hedgehogs and puppies and other such miscreants and took her home.

We try to name her in the car. I decide it needs to end with "-ia." But that falls by the wayside after "Rosacea" is the best I can come up with. I considered naming her Kitana after the woman who throws knives on Mortal Kombat. But then we started talking about She-Ra, and decide that probably her name should be Aurora, as I have always liked that name.

Anyway. She has fat hooves I like to squeeze.

So in a few minutes I am going skiing with Barfay and Bob Cratchit. Should be fun. I've decided to try snowboarding today just to see.

Ben is going as well. Ben practically runs Joe's Inn. I may begin referring to it as "Ben's Inn." Which is kind of interesting to say.

And then Myulin.

And then perhaps "The Orphan" with Margaret. So excited.