2000-09-20 - 10:28am

On the internal soundtrack: Classical again. The accompanying Fugue for Monday's Prelude.

So, remember the guy who broke his wrist? Apparently he also dislocated his elbow. Not only that, but the wrist fracture was so bad and complicated that they had to call in a specialist to operate. Egads. Poor guy. Ow.

Then, to make it just perfectly awful, a friend of his wrote to the mailing list asking people who witnessed the accident to contact her, in the event that there might be a case for lawsuit against the manufacturer of his wrist guards. Especially, the friend said, because he does not have health insurance.

The friend said that there is some "evidence" that the wrist guards he was wearing were defective. That is, the wrist guard broke. But where do you draw the line, here? How much responsibility does the manufacturer really have? Someone pointed out that skating is a high-risk activity and people must assume responsibility for themselves. The friend responded that the manufacturers must also take responsibility for making defective gear. But who can determine that the gear was defective? If it wasn't, exactly what type of injury should the gear be expected to prevent?

The accident happened at the bottom of a hill -- he could have been going pretty fast. It sounds to me that expecting the gear to prevent a broken wrist in a situation like that is like expecting a motorcycle helmet to prevent even the slightest concussion when you have an accident at 50mph. The protective gear isn't guaranteed to prevent any injury; merely to keep the injury from being as bad as it could have been. If the wrist guard broke, that means it took some of the impact which otherwise would have been on his wrist.

If he had health insurance, would they even be considering suing the wrist guard manufacturer?

So I picked up my bridesmaid dress for the wedding. It is still too big. I asked if it could be taken in more, but apparently it can't. Not without basically taking the dress apart and re-making it. The dress was at least two sizes too big to begin with, but it was the smallest size they make. I paid $150 for the dress, $120 for alterations. Almost $300. For a very pretty dress I would wear again if it fit.

Sigh.

Remind me to say "no" next time someone asks me to be an attendant. Between oversized dresses and no-shows at the shower, I've had enough.

Listen to me grump today. Must be the weather. It's been overcast and/or pouring rain all day.

On my way home from work, it was raining but there was sun in the west. When I got to the grocery store, a rainbow had appeared in the eastern sky -- a double one! Full 180 degree arc, clear as day, and a fainter, patchy one above it.

Always anxious to share special occasions with the love of my life, I called Poindexter on the pay phone outside the store and told him to go outside. It was pretty spectacular.

On a klutz note, I nearly tripped over my own feet while running to the pay phone, leading a small group standing nearby to look like they were trying not to laugh. They should have. It was funny.

Warning: Discussion of bodily functions ahead.

I seem to have a mild version of IBS. Have had it as long as I can remember. Supposedly the syndrome (I have a syndrome!) is caused by having an intestinal tract that is overly sensitive to stimuli. In my case, it's triggered by nervousness or eating too much.

If I get nervous, even in a good way, I must go to the can. The first couple weeks with a new boyfriend were always spent primarily in the bathroom. More excited nervousness than my system can handle. If I stuff myself at dinner, shortly afterward I must go to the can. The eating-too-much/pooping connection has led people to believe I'm bulimic (including Poindexter, back before he knew better). Trust me, I'm not. I hate to puke. Haven't puked in seven years. I worry that I'm due for mild food poisoning someday soon.

Poindexter has it, too, and it usually manifests itself when we're about to fly somewhere. It's pretty annoying, all around, but since we're aware of it, we make allowances for it, and I always carry Immonium. (Actually the Safeway/CVS generic version; I am too cheap to buy brand names.) "Butt plugs", Poindexter calls them. Magical little pills, they are. Couldn't have survived my wedding without them.

So the other night, after SimPoindexter and SimEvie shared their first real, mutual kiss, guess where SimEvie headed immediately afterwards?

In other Sim news:

SimEvie eats constantly, as I do.* She even goes to other people's houses and helps herself to their food.

SimPoindexter considers SimEvie his girlfriend now. They kiss when they greet.

I made SimEvie propose to SimPoindexter, and he said, "I can't make such an important decision on an empty stomach."

SimTim (modeled after Poindexter's coworker) has tried to give SimPoindexter a back rub four times now, and SimPoindexter is not taking it well. Sounds like SimTim's gaydar needs an overhaul.

*Someday I hope to go into this in more detail, but here's the short version:

I try to eat healthy food -- lots of high-fiber, low fat stuff, lots of vegetables. Not to lose weight, just to be healthy, and because I've actually developed a taste for it by introducing it gradually. Anyone who knows me from high school or college would never have guessed I'd ever eat this way. Or that I'd be an exercise freak.

Anyway, the healthy food combined with a high metabolism means I have to eat all day long. Every two to three hours or so. And amazingly enough, SimEvie does the same thing.

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