I'm Better!!

...Well, mostly. As in, I can type again. For short bursts of time. :) I am happy. But I still think cleaning is hard with limited ability in the left arm region. Cleaning spree time has happened and it's hard. But satisfying, I guess. If I didn't live in a mold pit.

But it's been so sunny lately that I couldn't complain. I know a lot of you (Americans) are enjoying a little bit of summer, but let me tell you that I am enjoying a brisk day of my windows open and I couldn't be happier. Clothes on the line, flat airing out... What could be better?

And I was going to put up a picture of the view from my parents' new house. Blogger says it's too big. While I work on that, I'll just say I am envious as it is apparently the hot spot to this summer. Fish frys (fries?) and fireworks are among the activities I've missed so far, but I am sure I will test out the festivity factor of the house round about Thanksgiving.

Medical Update

Sorry that I'm so boring that I put up medical updates, but I should be painfree in about 2 weeks. Regular rambling posts shall commence then. :)

I no longer have a cast "to promote mobility"... so my arm feels "broken and dangly". Luckily this should improve vastly over the next few days.

Wish I was more entertaining, but I guarantee I will be up and running with stories so soon. :)

They're Taking Over

It's that time again; the beginning of a term. That means American exchange students and lots of them. I have no problem with Americans in general. I love and miss my homeland. But. These people would remind anyone why they left. They are loud (and that's coming from me). Things I have overheard from American students:

Student1: Do you say ah-pricots or ay-pricots?
Student2: Ah-pricots.
Student3: I told you they were all saying it wrong!!
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Student1: Well, I want a scone, but that doesn't look like a scone.
Cashier: I'm sorry?
Student2: Can you just tell her what they taste like?
C: Like a scone. Try one, they're good.
S1: But I don't know what they taste like!!
C: There are 15 people behind you...
(I was one of them.)
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S1: Did you know it only costs $6 to take a taxi into town?
S2: I can't believe how close to downtown we are!
S1: I say we take a taxi into town on Saturday and hit all the clubs!
S2: Well, we can't do it all in one night, but we can try!!
("Downtown" is small. And no reasonable student will take a taxi the 8 to 10 blocks it takes to get from most student flats to town.)
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Now, I'm sure it seems worse because the regular students don't come back till this weekend. So I only have to deal with peroxide skanky girls still wearing uggs for another couple days. Oddly, the loud American males haven't made too much of an appearance... yet.

So I Postdate Blogs...

Well, I may be writing ahead, but I felt the need to tell a story.

I was just perusing emails I save and I found one from my dad referencing the classic "We're not last!" story. So I shall now tell it here. I've always had a history of being on teams that love the game, though lack the talent. My brother being slightly taller than the average bear made me grow up watching him play basketball. When I came of age (10), I joined the team, too. I was not of amazing ability, but was a nicely aggressive defensive player and I could dribble the ball. Due to some team restructuring that is now foggy in my memory, the really good players got bumped up to the 7th and 8th grade team. This left me one of the star players... of an okay, I guess, team. But we loved it. We went to a tournament. I still the highlight was being crammed into my parents' minivan on the way down (to Racine?) rocking out to Jock Jams. But we played our little hearts out, earning ourselves the prized game -- battling it out over being last or second to last. We found the humour in it, and thriving on our good spirit, won our only game of the tournament.

We were ecstatic. We ran into our locker room chanting, "We're not last!! We're not last!!" We were laughing hysterically until someone realised our faux pas -- the other team happened to be sharing our locker room. It was awful and hilarious and has gone down in family lore.

I know that our team rapidly improved (as 10 year olds do) and I think we even finished the next year undefeated. It was still not nearly as fun.

4th of July

In honor of Independence Day that I'm missing...

Sorry

I know I've sucked at posting. You try to type one handed. :) But the arm has been getting steadily better. I can now sleep in just about any position, cook things if they require only boiling (yum...), and shower and dress myself. With some ease. Seriously, the tricks I've learned. If it was socially appropriate, getting dressed with one arm would totally be my new party trick. Not only one arm, but dead weight arm. It's worse, I think. Imagine putting a bra on one handed - I mean, honestly.

Unfortunately, I am now unnaturally afraid of walking. I fear any patch of water on the hill, picturing falling and breaking the other arm. And ice?? I shuffle like a 90 year old down the hill, but at least I haven't fallen again... yet. Knock on wood.

And my new, American, sleek sling should be arriving today from my mommy who loves me so. :) Which will be nicer than this piece of sponge I have stretched from arm to neck and back to arm again. Plus! The birthday package is on its way. This makes me immensely happy. That's right, kiddos. Only 6 shopping days left for Auntie Annika's birthday. ;)

So I'm sorry posting has sucked and will, in all probability, continue to do so. But I get a sleeker new cast a week from today so we'll see what opportunities that opens up.