My Halloween Went Not At All According to Plan

To begin with, I haven't celebrated Halloween in awhile as I've been unmotivated to be cold and/or drunk and/or wearing something dorktastic in public (which is pretty much how all of my Halloweens post-drinking age have ended up, hence the recalcitrance). Further-- Bozeman is a college town and the likelihood of running into blitzed 18 year olds dressed up as skanky whatevers is really high. No, I thought-- I shall stay in. I shall make something complicated like lasagna. I shall ignore the hootenanny. Mostly this worked out okay.

I even finished the limoncello I've been procrastinating on for 3 months, oooOOooh pretty.

Sadly, that was where the nice bit ended and the gooey bit began. FYI? Avocado pits + huge and recently sharpened knives + me = :(

Oddly enough, this is the second time I've whacked open my hand this way in the past month, but I am, apparently, an extremely slow learner. The last time wasn't nearly as bad and I bandaided (yes, I am using this as a verb) it up and moved on. I fully expected to be able to do the same thing this time. See, I'm really not that okay with goo-- I'd be a terrible vampire-- it makes me all pukey and fainty and I act like a 70's horror movie chick who just stands there and screams a bunch while whoever with the axe/chainsaw/angry knife hacks everyone else to bits. In other words, I am NOT at ALL a badass when it comes to blood. 


Luckily, I married Cpt Awesomepants. He is fine with blood (he might be a vampire). He bandaged me up and then we ate lasagna while we waited for the bleeding to stop. 

It did not. So then we were all: you know what would be fun? The ER on the Saturday of Halloween weekend!! FUCK YEAH!!

Travel Bandages! ET phone home.

The ER was not nearly as exciting as you'd think. One of the nurses had cat ears on, but overall it was not the costumed drunken mayhem that we expected. They put us in a room and left us alone for a really long time and I played Angry Birds and tried to be cavalier about the fact that I was dying from blood loss (Cpt Awesomepants thought I was being silly, but what does he know? He's a fucking vampire). The ER doc came in and stabbed me with a massive needle filled with novocaine or whatever to make me all numb and puffy in the finger and then left us to go check on the one very drunk kid who had been found sleeping on the curb. 

Then he stitched me up like a fucking hand quilt. I felt it. It was gross. It still is gross.
I now have three stitches, my very first three! I did not faint, so I am extremely pleased with myself.

This is the picture that's supposed to imply a happy ending somehow, but I didn't have any of those. 

Now I have a bandaided quilt finger and it is much harder to type this blog post, but it's cool. I'm a survivor. 
Happy Halloween. <3

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