The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Monday, January 27, 2003

Trading towers

I had such the headache this morning; my eye balls felt like popping out. Quite bad. And yet the pain brought these weird thoughts to mind.

“What wierd thoughts,” asked Spring.

“I have this odd mental picture—Trading Spaces in Middle-Earth. Sauron and Saruman agreed to switch towers and redecorate one of the rooms in two days and only $1,000 budget.”

Spring giggled. “Elrond and Frodo exchanges houses. Let's see what Elrond does with the Hobbit hole …”


Napkin holder found at McDonalds'

Look Up for Napkins

A distrubing trend

Rob knocked on the bathroom door. “Sean! Spring cut her hand!

“What?” I said. The door had muffled Rob.

“Spring cut her hand!”

“Okay, I'll be out in a second.” I finished up with the business at hand, then grabbed the gauze bandages and hydrogen peroxide. I couldn't find the medical tape that I knew I had somewhere, so I ran downstairs with the supplies I had.

“Spring cut her hand on the futon,” said Rob. Spring, barly standing, was bent over the kitchen sink, holding her right hand under a stream of water. Rob had expressed interest in a futon and earlier today Spring found one while shopping and bought it. Then later she and Rob went back to the store (since Rob has a vehicle large enough to transport it) to pick it up, and while attempting to carry it into the Facility in the Middle of Nowhere it closed on her hand, slicing her middle finger. Rob ripped open some of the gauze bandages while I went back upstairs to find the medical tape.

“I couldn't find any,” I said a few minutes later.

“Well, grab any type of tape. Duct tape, electrical tape. Anything,” said Rob. I located the tape box in the kitchen and pulled out a roll of electrical tape. “Perfect,” said Rob. I pulled off a long piece of it and handed it to him. “This may hurt,” he said and started wrapping it around the bandages applied to Spring's hand. We then drove to the Emergency Room.

This is the third time in four months I've been to the emergency room (for Rob in September and then Gregory in December). Prior to September I think I've been to the emergency room twice in my life (that I can recall).

This is not a good trend.

They took Spring in immedately and rebandged her hand. Then it was about an hour before they were able to fully examine the wound. An X-ray (nothing broken, no cut tendons), four stitches and a prescription later she was released. She should be find by next week when the stitches come out.


Notes made at an Emergency Room on a found piece of paper and pen using a Woman's Day Magazine as a tablet while waiting for Spring.

Obligatory Picture

[It's the most wonderful time of the year!]

Obligatory Contact Info

Obligatory Feeds

Obligatory Links

Obligatory Miscellaneous

You have my permission to link freely to any entry here. Go ahead, I won't bite. I promise.

The dates are the permanent links to that day's entries (or entry, if there is only one entry). The titles are the permanent links to that entry only. The format for the links are simple: Start with the base link for this site: http://boston.conman.org/, then add the date you are interested in, say 2000/08/01, so that would make the final URL:

http://boston.conman.org/2000/08/01

You can also specify the entire month by leaving off the day portion. You can even select an arbitrary portion of time.

You may also note subtle shading of the links and that's intentional: the “closer” the link is (relative to the page) the “brighter” it appears. It's an experiment in using color shading to denote the distance a link is from here. If you don't notice it, don't worry; it's not all that important.

It is assumed that every brand name, slogan, corporate name, symbol, design element, et cetera mentioned in these pages is a protected and/or trademarked entity, the sole property of its owner(s), and acknowledgement of this status is implied.

Copyright © 1999-2020 by Sean Conner. All Rights Reserved.