Squeamish, anyone?

Man, this is just *swell.*

Random tidbits-o-fun from my not-empty-anymore-apartment:

• I sprained my right ankle yesterday and it hurts like a bitch. (Sorry. But it does.) I was carrying my new plant, Dean, home from work. And before I even made in downstairs to the office door, I wiped out on the stairs and did a fairly acrobatic nose-dive, which Dean miraculously survived intact, but my ankle did not. The lady who witnessed my most graceful moment said Dean looked like a propeller and I was about to take off. I limped to work and back today, feeling as foolish as I looked, and now Heather and Elizabeth have forced me to Rest, Ice, Compress and Elevate. Therefore this evening's entertainment consists entirely of "Sex and the City" on DVD.

Other highlights of the evening (so far):

• "I'll get scurvy like a merchant!" (Heather)
• "I'll do it--I'm good at inflicting pain." (Elizabeth)
• "Here, turn it the other way--that way it looks particularly grotesque." (Elizabeth the Photographer)
• "Did you just say 'ow' for the sake of saying 'ow'?" (EtP)
• "If I weren't so scurvaceous, I'd punch you in the nose!" (Heather)