Door: 1, Bub: 0

OUCH!

Picture this: Yours truly has a coffee in my right hand, a book between my right arm and my side, my left glove in my teeth so I can get my left hand into my pocket for my keys. I pull out the keys and go to open the door. Door starts closing a bit, so I go to grab it with my left hand. Because of the cold air outside and the warm air inside, the door slams shut faster than I expected and BAM, I find that my finger gets caught in the door. I quickly reopen the door, walk inside, and start shaking my hand thinking:

• Damn, you can break your hand that way
• I hope this isn't the kind of injury that is best cured by this shaking I'm doing
• Why is there blood all over the floor?

That last question was a bit of a doozy. I looked down and the tip of my left middle finger had turned mostly black with some blue and was bleeding. I still had my glove in my mouth. I went to the emergency room, and after three hours, including one spent watching a decent episode of Law & Order: SVU (Ice-T!) in the waiting room, had some x-rays taken, some hydrogen peroxide poured on it, and was told it wasn't broken, didn't need stitches, nor did I need to lose the finger nail.

So I can write and type, but my rocking ability has been put out of commission for the short term. I also got to show up to school the other day wearing a ridiculous bandage on only my middle finger, which was high comedy in my opinion. I was impressed that most people I knew approached me with genuine concern, as I think my natural response would have been to laugh first and ask questions later.

other random notes:

• Those wanting to be sent stuff through the mail should give me their CORRECT address. It's a very important part of the process. I hope whoever the stranger living in St. Louis that I sent my "Famous End of 2006 Mix" to enjoys it.
• I had grape vodka for the first time last night. It was made by Three Olive, who stands out in my memory as the vodka bottle that had about a shot left in it, and nobody would drink for two or three of my old roommate and my house parties.
• I was selected for the Entrepreneurial Internship Program here at the GSB. This means I can work for a cool small company for the summer. This also puts an end to my flirtation with structured derivative products. You were the most ridiculous sounding career option I could pursue, but in the end it just couldn't work out. It's not you, it's me.
• I've decided to ditch my Boston telephone number. It's on my business card, but I just don't want to have a Boston number two years from now. 3-1-2 in the heezy (or 773, I'm not quite sure which one I'll get).
• Biggest silver lining of the Colts winning the Super Bowl? Is it class act Marvin Harrison getting a ring? Peyton Manning being able to tell various ESPN know-nothings to STFU? Tony Dungy doing the same? Massholes everywhere watching the Colts, the COLTS, with Adam Vinatieri on their team win the big one? No, it's paycheck-player, gold-grilled UM jerkoff Edgerrin James sitting around his apartment wearing a Cardinals jersey with a frown on his face.
• BTW, wrong but funny
• The bar where TNDC was last night, Delilah's, not only plays damn fine music, but will be showing Twin Peaks episodes all month on Sundays. FWWM and the Series Premeire this Sunday. Sweet. creepiest bad guy ever. For those of you that have never seen the show, I didn't give anything away.
• Some other bar I was in last night was playing Fast Times at Ridgemont High on flat screens, while oldish people danced to 80s tunes, and my friends and I downed red-headed sluts and overpriced Coors Light bottles. As two of the guys I was with had never seen it, I offered to lend it to them in either VHS or DVD format, and told them to observe the scene where Phoebe Cates teaches Jennifer Jason Leigh how to give a blowjob to a carrot. I proclaimed it the best high school movie ever, and didn't back down (like Tom Petty) when confronted with "Better than Dazed and Confused?"