Finally, proof that I am a total girl.

I cut my finger today. Fairly badly. I was chopping an onion and the knife slipped. This has never happened before - I injure myself in the kitchen all the time, but it's always burns. I've been cooking since I was...I don't know, probably 2 or so, and I am very respectful of my knives. I know what I'm doing. I blame the onion - it had shifty eyes.

Anyway, I felt the knife slip, and I felt my fingernail stop it from slicing the end of my finger off. I grabbed the finger with my other hand, applying as much pressure as I could, and shoved it in Will's face with my eyes closed. He walked me into the bathroom, made me hold my hand above my head (holding a cut above the heart slows blood flow to it), and cut some gauze and tape to wrap it up with. I suspect that my carrying on made him a bit nervous, but the bandage was pretty good.

Then I almost fainted.

He got me to the bedroom, where the bed was kind enough to meet me halfway (I fell), and I lay face down until my head stopped spinning and my stomach stopped lurching. I had the presence of mind to grab his pillow and put it on top of mine; I laid my head on the mattress and put my injured hand up on the pillows. You see, they say to keep the injury above the heart, but I've never seen it specified whether that means biologically (by the shoulder or head no matter your position) or in regard to the ground - that is, above sea level, where your heart is sea level. Did that make sense? Anyway, I'll be looking into that. By which I mean "asking Phoebe."

I can't believe I almost fainted. Sheesh. I am a total sissy.

Incidentally, after about an hour I removed the bandage and Will put a band-aid on it. It looks all right. The knife went in at an angle, so the cut isn't too deep. And a super sexy lesbian offered to "cheer me up."