Physical Challenge: Me vs. Giada De Laurentiis

I know that I indicated originally that the Physical Challenge portion of this blog would be dedicated to things such as dance-offs, arm wrestling, and rock paper scissor contests at bars at 2am. And it will be. But I had an experience this week that was a true physical challenge, and it should probably be memorialized at BYOJJ. My worthy opponent:

You may be familiar with Ms. De Laurentiis from the Food Network and her show “Everyday Italian,” on which she makes plenty of delicious Italian food that she most certainly does not eat. Let’s be real here. Giada is freaking hot and damn, are her boobs perky. But she does not eat that food. Unless the eating is followed by barfing. Sorry, the truth hurts. And her hotness is counteracted by how unbelievably annoying she is when she exaggerates the pronunciation of words like “parmigiano-reggiano.”

What you may not know is that Giada has introduced a line of cookware exclusively for Target. I'm not even going to link to it, just to spite Giada. I happened to purchase a paring knife the other day from Giada’s collection. I didn’t really do this on purpose. I needed a paring knife, but I was also in a huge hurry and I probably spent too long looking at clothes, so I grabbed the first one I saw. It was encased in plastic in the way that you presume they don’t actually want you to ever use the knife. Curb Your Enthusiasm generally makes me feel uncomfortable, but here is a clip that perfectly portrays the struggle of trying to get into one of these plastic containers!

Well, I was in a hurry when I bought Giada’s knife, and I was still in a hurry when I tried to free Giada’s knife from its packaging. I took some scissors to the plastic and starting hacking away. I was a girl scout, and we learned knife safety, but apparently I did not learn scissor safety. (Except I do know how to pass scissors correctly—handles out. I sort of judge people who don’t pass scissors correctly, don’t you?). So I was bearing down on this package with my full body weight and pointing the scissors downward directly toward my left hand, which was grasping the package. Now, I have come to realize that 99% of people are quite squeamish about this stuff, so I will not tell you about how the scissors slipped and stabbed full-force into my hand or how the cut allowed me to see so far into my hand, I think I almost saw my own soul. No, I will spare you the details. The annoying part was that I still had to finish cutting the knife out of the plastic packaging, while I had my bleeding hand wrapped in paper towels.

I briefly contemplated whether I needed to get stitches, but I decided that would pretty much ruin my whole night, so I passed. But the next day, it was suggested that maybe, just maybe, I ought to get a tetanus shot. Because seriously, lock jaw would be a real bummer. Wikipedia hilariously lists “notable tetanus victims,” where the most notable person is the brother of Henry David Thoreau. God, I love Wikipedia!

I started my trek at the Walgreen’s Take Care Clinic, because I pretty much rely on the Take Care Clinic for 100% of my medical needs. I mean, how convenient is it to just drive half a mile to the nearest Walgreen’s and then walk around and find a bunch of make-up and household supplies to buy while you wait. Well the Walgreen’s nurse tells me immediately that they do not treat hand injuries. Umm…what? They categorically do not treat anything that is wrong with your hand? The nurse tells me they don’t want to be liable if my hand has to be amputated. But she assures me I do need a tetanus shot and tells me to go to the ER. So now I’m feeling great because I have to go to the ER and I think my hand might need to be surgically removed at some point in the near future.

So I go to Barnes Jewish Hospital and try to go to the ER. First, I can’t figure out where you are supposed to park. I mean, what if I was having a real effing emergency? But I’ll tell you something, Barnes ER kicked ass. They got me in and out in a flash. I thought I would be sitting in the waiting room for like nine years, but that just did not happen! Here's my hospital bracelet-I think I'm gonna keep it to remember this:

Notable waiting room experience: I sit down and immediately this dude starts getting all up in my business. He tells me his name is Julius. Julius proceeds to ask me half a dozen ridiculous questions. One Highlight: “So, are you having a good day?” My response “Dude, I am in the emergency room. What do you think?” Also, I really loved this exchange:

Julius: “So, what’s your favorite dish?”

Me: “Dish? Like….food?”

Julius: “Yeah. Let me guess. You look like….a fettucini alfredo girl.”

Me: blank stare.

Eventually Me: “Uh…I like pizza?”

Julius: “Oh, I haven’t had pizza for 2 years. Because I’ve been in prison.”

Aaaaannnd scene!

That’s pretty much it. I saw about 5 nurses and they all were concerned I had attempted to harm myself. Each one would ask “What did you do?” And I would reply, “I stabbed a pair of scissors into my hand.” And each one would respond “Did you do this…accidentally?” Every single one. I’ll tell you, if this was my cry for help, it would be pretty lame.

I think from here on out, I am going to say that I got this wound playing this game, where you try to hit between your fingers with a knife:

So I think it’s fair to say that Giada won this physical challenge. To ACTUALLY be fair, Giada’s freaking plastic packaging won this physical challenge. I’m just saying now—if I have to get my hand amputated, there is going to be a part 2 to this blog where Giada gets served. Probably with a lawsuit.