So, i was about to get that final surgery next week. Finally get those implants placed. Take one more step toward biting into that bacon cheeseburger at Hodad's I've been holding out for (I mean seriously, who wants to eat a bacon cheeseburger with a knife and fork?)
As it happens, however... It's not going to happen now. Now is a more serious time. Now is a time not to worry about how to fix me. Now I have to fix everything else. And I don't know if I can.
You see, my dad died this weekend. It was sudden, but perhaps not completely unexpected. It was awful. It is awful. I feel smaller, less engaged, more hallow. I don't know what I'm going to do without him.
My dad was a great man. Sure, he was flawed. Made us angry, pissed us off. But despite the superficial flaws, he was the best person I've ever known. He was the best father you could ask for. He taught, and listened (most of the time). He was my mentor and inspiration. He was my rock, and my best friend.
I've been wandering around for the last couple of days, sort of just going through the day to day stuff. Trying to maintain some sense of normalcy. But it's not normal. It's so incredibly not normal. You think sometimes... "what would I do if xyz happened. How could I make it better". Well, despite all those daydreams, I still don't know how to make it better. Don't know how I can give my mom some sense of peace. I'm worried about her the most. I mean, she had what everyone wants. Another half. I working machine.. .mom & dad, together against the world. They raised us, and made us happy and kept the bad away, even when they had bad all around them. They worked like a well oiled machine. A nagging, cooking, complaining, arguing, loving, caring machine. And everything was OK as long as they were there.
And now that machine is broken. He left... left too early. Left us to live without him. Damn him for leaving us too early. I want to be mad at him. I'm reasonably sure I'm not the only one who feels that way. But I can't be mad. I can't be angry with him. I want to shake my fist at the sky and say "What the fuck man?". In fact, I'm reasonably sure I've done that already. But why? What good is that?
Instead I wonder... who will I call and bitch about sports to? Who will call and ask why Star Trek isn't on? Who will get me the latest interesting piece of baseball trivia? Who will smile and laugh and tell me that story that seems to put things in perspective? Who's going to remind me not to overcook their steak? Who will fix it?
I guess that's the point, right? Life has no fix. We all live broken, and sometimes it's much harder to work around. Instead, I'll fix what I can. I'll treat the symptoms, but know that there's no cure.
No cure for the hole in me. Only sadness. Profound sadness. Fortunately, with little if any regret. I never forgot to tell him I loved him. Never forgot to give him a hug and a kiss. Don't forget that shit people. Seriously, don't ever forget.
You know, as much as part of me died with him, a larger of part of him lives with me. And with the untold people he touched. With my mom, and my sister and the grand kids, and all my friends, and everyone else. Because I didn't have a normal dad. I had a super-dad. Peter was graced with more love to give, and more ways to care and show it then anyone. I'll be more alone without him. But he taught me, perhaps more then anything else, he taught me how to make sure you were never alone. He taught me how much people need each other, and how much we make each others lives better. And even though he left me, he left me rich. Rich in love and caring and friends and family. No inheritance could surpass what he left me with.
Thanks Dad. I will miss you terribly. I love you.
9/22/08
Gums? Yes, I think i'll have some. And a coke.
OK, and we've now reached... ROUND II. Ding Ding Ding.
Yes, the time has come. Well, a time has come. Apparently I now have insufficient gums to look normal with new teeth, so yes... it's gum draft time. Less severe that what I've had recently, but fun none the less. So as the quarter rounds up, lets add some excitement with a little slice and stitch!
More to come...
Yes, the time has come. Well, a time has come. Apparently I now have insufficient gums to look normal with new teeth, so yes... it's gum draft time. Less severe that what I've had recently, but fun none the less. So as the quarter rounds up, lets add some excitement with a little slice and stitch!
More to come...
5/13/08
No incising, but not bad!
Well, the day has finally come! Yes, it's true.. I have teeth! WHEEE! Well, not so much "teeth" as "a largish fake plate containing teeth-like facsimiles". And although I remain eager for the permanent replacements, it a fair site better than yesterday. And most importantly - FOOD. Yes friends it's true. Today I indulged myself in a glorious breakfast burrito, and capped off the day with a trip to Phils BBQ. No, I can't actually bite into ribs. As the title suggests, these teeth are not for incising. I remain on the knife and fork diet. But you can't beat bacon, egg, potato & cheese with guacamole after 3 weeks of smoothies and tuna. It does warm the cockles of the heart.
So, as some of you might have noted I've been acting a bit pissy lately. No, no... it's true. Don't deny it. And although I'm sure there's a tiny foreign import full of issues that I still have to sort through, I have been reminded of some more things lately. More even then the last time.
You see, these last week or so have given occasion for the world to flick my ear and say "Hey fucker... don't be a pissant". People have died. Old friends and old friends of friends. People I know and people who are dear to me are suffering. And not the "oh woo is me, my life is so hallow" crap that I've been spouting. Real suffering, the kind that leaves scars. So I sat again this evening by the water, watching the sun. I sat down on today's rock lamenting that no one would come out and enjoy a ceremonial first meal back with me. But again, as I have learned, vaporous saline and decreasing light slowly pulled it out of me. I realized how fortunate I am, how insanely lucky my life is. I started thinking in aphorisms. As such, I will now give you my first attempt at poetry for over a decade. It will probably suck. But I don't care (Updated 9/08: I removed this lame poem. It was lame)
Like I said, pretty weak. But it was an odd day, so this is what you get. I do want to wish my old yelling friend a peaceful rest in a bigger world. Although I don't think I've seen you in 7 or 8 years, you were as memorable as they come. This world is less bright without you.
And to the rest of you- Happy Day! My lisping is reduced, my smile is almost creepy symetrical, and my beard is..... dundundundundundundundun... not totally coming off, but some is. I've decided to pare it down. keep the lions share, but reduce the grizzly effect (sorry moses). I will now endeavor to clean the bastard up and get a photo. give me a minute...
(time passes)
So, as some of you might have noted I've been acting a bit pissy lately. No, no... it's true. Don't deny it. And although I'm sure there's a tiny foreign import full of issues that I still have to sort through, I have been reminded of some more things lately. More even then the last time.
You see, these last week or so have given occasion for the world to flick my ear and say "Hey fucker... don't be a pissant". People have died. Old friends and old friends of friends. People I know and people who are dear to me are suffering. And not the "oh woo is me, my life is so hallow" crap that I've been spouting. Real suffering, the kind that leaves scars. So I sat again this evening by the water, watching the sun. I sat down on today's rock lamenting that no one would come out and enjoy a ceremonial first meal back with me. But again, as I have learned, vaporous saline and decreasing light slowly pulled it out of me. I realized how fortunate I am, how insanely lucky my life is. I started thinking in aphorisms. As such, I will now give you my first attempt at poetry for over a decade. It will probably suck. But I don't care (Updated 9/08: I removed this lame poem. It was lame)
Like I said, pretty weak. But it was an odd day, so this is what you get. I do want to wish my old yelling friend a peaceful rest in a bigger world. Although I don't think I've seen you in 7 or 8 years, you were as memorable as they come. This world is less bright without you.
And to the rest of you- Happy Day! My lisping is reduced, my smile is almost creepy symetrical, and my beard is..... dundundundundundundundun... not totally coming off, but some is. I've decided to pare it down. keep the lions share, but reduce the grizzly effect (sorry moses). I will now endeavor to clean the bastard up and get a photo. give me a minute...
(time passes)
Today- Burrito. Tomorrow? Some sushi! The next day? THE WORLD! Or maybe some pizza. OK, here it is! Also, for your viewing pleasure... last week's sunset:
5/9/08
Expectation
Let this be a lesson. Don't get your hopes up. Don't get me wrong, I try very hard to resist the urge to think that hope is dangerous. That's the wrong road to go down. But I was this close.. THIS CLOSE! Alas, all that happened was another impression. I hoped for teeth. Some grilled chicken. Perhaps even (gasp!) a breakfast burrito. Alas, all I got was a metal plate filled with pink molding goo. I can expect some fake teeth this Tuesday. It will, eventually, be very exciting. As it stands I have one last weekend of tuna, soup and some smoothies.
So tonight, I will drink. Not that I wouldn't drink if I had teeth. But if I did fill my mouth gap, I might have a date. Instead, I have the geek squad, some TV and a shot of Jaeger. Life could be worse. I will update you all soon, and perhaps have a shot of my shiny new flipper. Until then, have a fab weekend, and eat something crunchy for me.
I remain... the gapper.
So tonight, I will drink. Not that I wouldn't drink if I had teeth. But if I did fill my mouth gap, I might have a date. Instead, I have the geek squad, some TV and a shot of Jaeger. Life could be worse. I will update you all soon, and perhaps have a shot of my shiny new flipper. Until then, have a fab weekend, and eat something crunchy for me.
I remain... the gapper.
5/6/08
Lucky Old Sun
I was thinking of making an entire post theme that revolved around song lines and/or titles. However, as it turns out the title of this post is the only one I can think of. And the other line that I had in my head is some inane Jim Morrison poem line from that spoken word album we got into years ago, in the Door's period. Its not unlike Picasso's blue period, but we were younger and smoked more pot. Anyway, the line is "Wow.. I'm sick of doubt..." Of course, the poem rambles on to other more acid filled lunacy. But for me, now.. it's just that one phrase that is stuck in the craw. And it's true. I am sick of doubt. Do you ever feel it? Like somehow, slowly, into you life... doubt has crept and laid eggs? And that these new lives, the maggots of doubt, have bored holes into your mind and kept you somehow mesmerized? Left you wondering if this, or that may or may not be the right thing to do, or say, or think? I mean, it's not that pervasive of course. But they are there sometimes. And I'm sick of them. I seek an exterminator to poison these creatures from my mind. Some use faith, or meditation or the like. Some just drink heavily I suppose. I'm hoping that somewhere in between these options some other method will make itself clear.
And in the meantime, we come back to our topic- the Lucky Old Sun. What I have done recently is to simply begin wandering. I zig zag my way down to the beach, find a nice rock to sit on, and listen to the waves and watch the sun set. As the song says... "That Lucky Old Sun, ain't got nothing to do, but roll, roll around heaven, all day". I imagine that the sun never doubts if it's going to come up tomorrow.
Now, we shall away to the mundane. It's Monday late, and Thursday I shall apparently get some replacement teeth. Temps, to be sure, but fillers none the less. It's terribly exciting. I don't get to "eat" exactly, but my lisp will change form. In the meantime I have to decide what to do with the scruffy mess on my cheeks. After surgery, I decided I wouldn't shave until I had teeth. Now that they are pending, here is the open question to any of y'all still reading. Leave as is? Shave it off again? Whack back to goatee format, as before? Or clean up and leave in it's somewhat full form? The house is accepting comments and questions in this regard, and will consider all perspective and opinion. It's hard to capture, but this is what I can show:
And in the meantime, we come back to our topic- the Lucky Old Sun. What I have done recently is to simply begin wandering. I zig zag my way down to the beach, find a nice rock to sit on, and listen to the waves and watch the sun set. As the song says... "That Lucky Old Sun, ain't got nothing to do, but roll, roll around heaven, all day". I imagine that the sun never doubts if it's going to come up tomorrow.
Now, we shall away to the mundane. It's Monday late, and Thursday I shall apparently get some replacement teeth. Temps, to be sure, but fillers none the less. It's terribly exciting. I don't get to "eat" exactly, but my lisp will change form. In the meantime I have to decide what to do with the scruffy mess on my cheeks. After surgery, I decided I wouldn't shave until I had teeth. Now that they are pending, here is the open question to any of y'all still reading. Leave as is? Shave it off again? Whack back to goatee format, as before? Or clean up and leave in it's somewhat full form? The house is accepting comments and questions in this regard, and will consider all perspective and opinion. It's hard to capture, but this is what I can show:
5/2/08
Melancholy and Eggs, scrambled... with cheese!
OK, it's Thursday night, and it's been far to long since I've added more to this little missive. I'm also a little drunk, so it's likely that this missive will take a more rambling format the usual. When I first conceived of today's topic, I was considerably more morose. As it turns out, the past few days have been an improvement.
This is a second day edit. I have realized that now... on friday, i made a very fundamental error on this post. One might not be able to associate the title with the content. This is one of those "you had to be there" jokes, and I'm afraid the timing is long since shot. So I've waited until I was drunk again, so I could retain the spirit of the post. To Wit:...The whole point is... I can eat EGGS! It's terribly exciting. Normal protein that tastes like normal food. And the best part... I added cheese! At the suggestion of a good friend and at the reminder of my refrigerator, I was able to ingest GOUDA! And I discovered something. Gouda really does make the world a more pleasant place. Bless the Dutch, may their wooden shoes provide them with excellent posture for all of their days. So- Proost! or Skål! or Geluch! You crazy Dutch bastards!
This entire experience has been quite insightful. I expected the physical trauma to be more severe. Not that it isn't, but I really thought I'd be "out of it" for a while longer. As it turns out, it's been more annoying the truly painful, and more inconvenient the actually distasteful. However, the part I was not expecting was how much such trauma and solitude would fuck with my head. As those of you who know me well know... I do tend to be overly emotional. I am prone to irrational bouts of joy and sorrow, and I don't have what one might call a full or keen grasp on my head at all times. Yes, it's true... I'm an anxiety filled, neurotic, bloviating madman. Not as a rule, but certainly, at times, in practice. And I didn't pick the best time to have my implants fail and happen upon reconstructive surgery.
Not that I had a choice. I think that at times the world just plans to have as many annoyances and turmoil heaped upon you as it possibly can. It's not the world's fault. I'm not so self righteous as to think that someone or something "has it out" for me. But alas, April was less then ideal. So, I was melancholy. Bitter. Profoundly sad at times. Just annoyed at others. I prayed for normalcy, for a sense of calm. "Serenity now" if you will. But I know better. I do sometimes believe that peace of mind is reserved for monks, children and the stupid. I do believe at times in the old adage "The world is easier for those of us not cursed with introspection".
But of course most of this isn't true. The truth, I'm betting, is that I do in fact suffer from maddeningly obsessive thoughts, surface level emotional conflict, and an all around piss poor ability to GET THE FUCK A HOLD OF MYSELF. But this is not news. I've realized this for at least 15 years. It's just that this past month has been a particularly notable example. However, the past 48 hours has provided marked improvement. I am reminded of several things that I share with you all now:
-) I can't control what people think or do, and letting these things bother me will only drive me more insane than I am on a day to day basis
-) Time does, in fact, heal all wounds
-) I love the ocean. I might not surf or spend my days on the beach. But when push comes to shove, staring at the waves, smelling the salt air, and watching the sunset over the vast blue-green endlessness of the Pacific will always calm the mind and feed the soul. Seriously, no offense to anyone who grew up landlocked... but damn that would suck. I just have to know that it's there, close by, when I need it.
So I come now to the end of today's aphorisms. They are perhaps a tad rambling and incoherent. So as a mea cupla, I can add one practical item. As of yesterday, I was finally able to see the other wound that was part of my procedure. Remember, this was a bone graft. Meaning they had to get the bone from somewhere. That turned out to be the pointy part of my right hip. Put your hand on your hip, and find that part several inches right and slightly south of your navel where your pelvis is closest to the surface. Below you will find that wound on me. Under it is a missing chunk of bone, perhaps half the width of a craps die, and twice as long. It's kind of cool, you can actually feel the hole! To wit:
This is a second day edit. I have realized that now... on friday, i made a very fundamental error on this post. One might not be able to associate the title with the content. This is one of those "you had to be there" jokes, and I'm afraid the timing is long since shot. So I've waited until I was drunk again, so I could retain the spirit of the post. To Wit:...The whole point is... I can eat EGGS! It's terribly exciting. Normal protein that tastes like normal food. And the best part... I added cheese! At the suggestion of a good friend and at the reminder of my refrigerator, I was able to ingest GOUDA! And I discovered something. Gouda really does make the world a more pleasant place. Bless the Dutch, may their wooden shoes provide them with excellent posture for all of their days. So- Proost! or Skål! or Geluch! You crazy Dutch bastards!
This entire experience has been quite insightful. I expected the physical trauma to be more severe. Not that it isn't, but I really thought I'd be "out of it" for a while longer. As it turns out, it's been more annoying the truly painful, and more inconvenient the actually distasteful. However, the part I was not expecting was how much such trauma and solitude would fuck with my head. As those of you who know me well know... I do tend to be overly emotional. I am prone to irrational bouts of joy and sorrow, and I don't have what one might call a full or keen grasp on my head at all times. Yes, it's true... I'm an anxiety filled, neurotic, bloviating madman. Not as a rule, but certainly, at times, in practice. And I didn't pick the best time to have my implants fail and happen upon reconstructive surgery.
Not that I had a choice. I think that at times the world just plans to have as many annoyances and turmoil heaped upon you as it possibly can. It's not the world's fault. I'm not so self righteous as to think that someone or something "has it out" for me. But alas, April was less then ideal. So, I was melancholy. Bitter. Profoundly sad at times. Just annoyed at others. I prayed for normalcy, for a sense of calm. "Serenity now" if you will. But I know better. I do sometimes believe that peace of mind is reserved for monks, children and the stupid. I do believe at times in the old adage "The world is easier for those of us not cursed with introspection".
But of course most of this isn't true. The truth, I'm betting, is that I do in fact suffer from maddeningly obsessive thoughts, surface level emotional conflict, and an all around piss poor ability to GET THE FUCK A HOLD OF MYSELF. But this is not news. I've realized this for at least 15 years. It's just that this past month has been a particularly notable example. However, the past 48 hours has provided marked improvement. I am reminded of several things that I share with you all now:
-) I can't control what people think or do, and letting these things bother me will only drive me more insane than I am on a day to day basis
-) Time does, in fact, heal all wounds
-) I love the ocean. I might not surf or spend my days on the beach. But when push comes to shove, staring at the waves, smelling the salt air, and watching the sunset over the vast blue-green endlessness of the Pacific will always calm the mind and feed the soul. Seriously, no offense to anyone who grew up landlocked... but damn that would suck. I just have to know that it's there, close by, when I need it.
So I come now to the end of today's aphorisms. They are perhaps a tad rambling and incoherent. So as a mea cupla, I can add one practical item. As of yesterday, I was finally able to see the other wound that was part of my procedure. Remember, this was a bone graft. Meaning they had to get the bone from somewhere. That turned out to be the pointy part of my right hip. Put your hand on your hip, and find that part several inches right and slightly south of your navel where your pelvis is closest to the surface. Below you will find that wound on me. Under it is a missing chunk of bone, perhaps half the width of a craps die, and twice as long. It's kind of cool, you can actually feel the hole! To wit:
4/25/08
First Friday...
Well, here we are at the first full non-puffy bloody weekend, post surgery. I must say, I'm pleasantly surprised. I walking tall, if not quite looking good. And I'm ready to drink! There is little to say on this matter, or in this post. Other than that I look forward to getting drunk with no carbonation, and hoping that mashed potatoes are enough to sate me during this adventure. We shall see. Details to follow...
4/23/08
Soup or Smoothie?
I'll have both please! And a shake! And some freakin' temporary teeth please! And make it snappy, I'm in a hurry.
Someone asked today what I would eat right now if I could. I posited that a slice of cheese pizza covered in french fries sounded good. At first, I laughed at the sheer absurdity of the whole thing. But upon reflection... no. I would definitely take a bite out of that if presented to me and I was able. And then of course I went to the farmers market (note to self- SD local farmers do NOT grow bananas. How this didn't seem obvious at first is beyond me). So, I can always use some more fruit to cram in my blender. But the longing! tiny tacos! the crepe guy! even the guy who lets you taste all of his cheese and olives! OH MY GOD! It is literally the only true food annoyance I have had yet. And I had only a strawberry raspberry smoothie to drown my sorrow in when I got home.
I would say "Woe is Me". But it's not really. Bitterness is sometimes me. Brooding is sometimes me. Singing in the car is sometimes me. Absurd comments to random people? Also me. But woe... no. That would be overly harsh. I admit that the worst part of this week has been the weird mood swings. I mean, i expected simply straight-forward problems... pain. discomfort. swelling. The 3 horse-people of the maxilla. But insomnia? mood swings? not being able to sleep on my right side? These are not what I was prepared for. So what am I to do? What could possible be the answer???? TELL ME DAMMIT!!!!
OK, so I can't actually hear you. To date, I've tried a few methods:
-) butterscotch pudding (good, but not as successful as I had hoped)
-) whiskey (we're still working on this one. more later)
-) Pynchon (also an experiment in progress. But you have to love the character name "Benny Profane")
Tomorrow is BIG CHECK-UP DAY. the day in which my OMD pokes around, say "hmmm", keeps looking at me asking over and over again if I'm SURE I haven't had a cigarette (I haven't! seriously! A whole week), and almost certainly does something that is going to make me want another pain pill. Nice guy, but damn he can be a pain (rimshot? anyone? please?). I also expect one more "we'll see" and "I'll let you know next week". What's a checkup without them?
And finally, I'm sorry.. there's just not much more to show in picture. I mean, other then the fact that I haven't shaved and seriously think that my mustache hair is growing slower then it was last week, what's to see? So here is my request (at the suggestion of a good friend, you know who you are)- do any of you have gross pictures of dental work that you can share? I will post them here. We'll make it a clearinghouse!Sort of like Getty (Bloody) Images! We can license them and make a mint? Or at least, we'll be able to buy a few mints. Which I'll likely eat before you get your share. Sorry.
Someone asked today what I would eat right now if I could. I posited that a slice of cheese pizza covered in french fries sounded good. At first, I laughed at the sheer absurdity of the whole thing. But upon reflection... no. I would definitely take a bite out of that if presented to me and I was able. And then of course I went to the farmers market (note to self- SD local farmers do NOT grow bananas. How this didn't seem obvious at first is beyond me). So, I can always use some more fruit to cram in my blender. But the longing! tiny tacos! the crepe guy! even the guy who lets you taste all of his cheese and olives! OH MY GOD! It is literally the only true food annoyance I have had yet. And I had only a strawberry raspberry smoothie to drown my sorrow in when I got home.
I would say "Woe is Me". But it's not really. Bitterness is sometimes me. Brooding is sometimes me. Singing in the car is sometimes me. Absurd comments to random people? Also me. But woe... no. That would be overly harsh. I admit that the worst part of this week has been the weird mood swings. I mean, i expected simply straight-forward problems... pain. discomfort. swelling. The 3 horse-people of the maxilla. But insomnia? mood swings? not being able to sleep on my right side? These are not what I was prepared for. So what am I to do? What could possible be the answer???? TELL ME DAMMIT!!!!
OK, so I can't actually hear you. To date, I've tried a few methods:
-) butterscotch pudding (good, but not as successful as I had hoped)
-) whiskey (we're still working on this one. more later)
-) Pynchon (also an experiment in progress. But you have to love the character name "Benny Profane")
Tomorrow is BIG CHECK-UP DAY. the day in which my OMD pokes around, say "hmmm", keeps looking at me asking over and over again if I'm SURE I haven't had a cigarette (I haven't! seriously! A whole week), and almost certainly does something that is going to make me want another pain pill. Nice guy, but damn he can be a pain (rimshot? anyone? please?). I also expect one more "we'll see" and "I'll let you know next week". What's a checkup without them?
And finally, I'm sorry.. there's just not much more to show in picture. I mean, other then the fact that I haven't shaved and seriously think that my mustache hair is growing slower then it was last week, what's to see? So here is my request (at the suggestion of a good friend, you know who you are)- do any of you have gross pictures of dental work that you can share? I will post them here. We'll make it a clearinghouse!Sort of like Getty (Bloody) Images! We can license them and make a mint? Or at least, we'll be able to buy a few mints. Which I'll likely eat before you get your share. Sorry.
4/22/08
Insomnia? Are you kidding me?
OK, I have a complaint. I'm certainly not overeating. I've quit smoking and usually have been ending the day with a pain pill. But for some reason, for the first time in my life, I seem to be fighting some shitty bout of insomnia! What the fuck? Pain is manageable, so it's not that. In fact, when I was in pain, I got right to sleep. I just had to get up once to deal. But I feel pretty good now. I don't think I'm fixating on anything, at least not consciously. So what gives? Do I need to heat my late night milkshake so it takes the form of "warm milk"? Because seriously.. that's gross. Are my narcotic painkillers playing dirty little tricks on me and having the opposite effect? (I can see them in the corner, huddling... "Timmssess? Oh we hates timssess")
Well, I guess this too is one more little annoyance. Que sera. Don't tell anyone I work with, but I kind of just slept 1-2 hours through my alarm today as a big middle finger to last night. And considering this whole experience isn't really as bad as it might have been, i suppose it's a small price to pay. I once heard it said that "every moment of pleasure is paid for with a moment of pain". Perhaps this is the lesser known cousin "ever moment of not-pain is paid for by a moment of slight annoyance".
Other tiny complaint? I can't seem to smile. It's true. I have these 2 stitches well positioned to effectively prevent me from moving my upper lip into an expression of decent happiness. I will have to suffice with smirking I guess. It's not a bad expression. Better then the morose monkey look (see below). I guess it's all a progression. Maybe I should go play some poker. What better time to play poker then when you are physically incapable of making significant facial expressions?
And I'm past the cane. It's kind of sad really. I liked the cane. It had a certain cachet'. But alas, it's time to return it to gramma. I think I need to get out more. I don't want the Great Outdoors to devolve back into the Great Indoors. So alas, I think it is time to hobble to a nearby cafe and pretend not to hate my job. I don't actually hate my job, I'm just so not feelin' it this week. And it kind of bugs. like those smile preventing stitches. There you have it in a convoluted syllogism. My job is like smile-preventing stitches.
OK, let's see if we have more pictures to share... Yes! we do. First we have the closest thing I can muster to a smile. You can understand my frustration:
Next, you will see what my gums look like as they impersonate a stuffed and tied pork loin. Really, I have to give it my OMD. Here's very neat with the stitching (Yeah, no snarky comments about the fillings You all know I drank too much cola as a child. I've heard it before!):
Well, I guess this too is one more little annoyance. Que sera. Don't tell anyone I work with, but I kind of just slept 1-2 hours through my alarm today as a big middle finger to last night. And considering this whole experience isn't really as bad as it might have been, i suppose it's a small price to pay. I once heard it said that "every moment of pleasure is paid for with a moment of pain". Perhaps this is the lesser known cousin "ever moment of not-pain is paid for by a moment of slight annoyance".
Other tiny complaint? I can't seem to smile. It's true. I have these 2 stitches well positioned to effectively prevent me from moving my upper lip into an expression of decent happiness. I will have to suffice with smirking I guess. It's not a bad expression. Better then the morose monkey look (see below). I guess it's all a progression. Maybe I should go play some poker. What better time to play poker then when you are physically incapable of making significant facial expressions?
And I'm past the cane. It's kind of sad really. I liked the cane. It had a certain cachet'. But alas, it's time to return it to gramma. I think I need to get out more. I don't want the Great Outdoors to devolve back into the Great Indoors. So alas, I think it is time to hobble to a nearby cafe and pretend not to hate my job. I don't actually hate my job, I'm just so not feelin' it this week. And it kind of bugs. like those smile preventing stitches. There you have it in a convoluted syllogism. My job is like smile-preventing stitches.
OK, let's see if we have more pictures to share... Yes! we do. First we have the closest thing I can muster to a smile. You can understand my frustration:
Next, you will see what my gums look like as they impersonate a stuffed and tied pork loin. Really, I have to give it my OMD. Here's very neat with the stitching (Yeah, no snarky comments about the fillings You all know I drank too much cola as a child. I've heard it before!):
4/20/08
The Great Outdoors!
I finally made it out into the world. So terribly exciting. After many days of pent up frustration, I discovered that today was Earth Day and decided to go to the fair. There was walking. And occasionally there was me muttering incoherently to the people in the booths. But mostly there was walking.
And I do so love large fairs full of tree hugging dirt worshipers like myself. SO many interesting a random ways to sew hemp and save the world and reduce my carbon footprint. As it stands, I really only managed to do 2 things. I talked to candidate running against my current congressional representative (the other democrat. a republican will never win in our conveniently gerrymandered district). And I talked to the folks at the House Rabbit Society about how badly they need foster families for bunnies. Once I get all healed, I might have to look into this. I do so love bunnies.
But there was one thing that stuck out. In this bastion of left wing idealists there were the requisite bible-thumpers with their large signs and abortion pictures. Now those were revolting, but not unexpected. However, the thing that really did stick out was the pitiable looking man with a 5 foot sign that read "Give me 5 minutes and I will proved to you that god exists and jesus died for your sins". Seriously. It was like Grecian Formula challenge meets Pascal's Wager. I couldn't believe it. I was SO F*CKING bitter that my mouth isn't really working. I wanted to talk to him SO BADLY I could feel it. Actually, that was the twinge in my hip as I whirled around to read his sign. But STILL! I mean, here is a person who is apparently so unclear on the concept of "faith" that not only is he seeking to prove his beliefs to himself... he wants to prove them to YOU. It never ceases to amaze me how some people (not all mind you, but some) who claim that faith is the most important thing in their lives still seem convinced that faith and "proof" need to co-exist. And damn, i just realized that i missed the Union of Concerned Scientists booth. how ironic.
OK, I am off to tend to my chicken stock. And maybe take a pain pill. But really, I might just be over those. How sad...
And I do so love large fairs full of tree hugging dirt worshipers like myself. SO many interesting a random ways to sew hemp and save the world and reduce my carbon footprint. As it stands, I really only managed to do 2 things. I talked to candidate running against my current congressional representative (the other democrat. a republican will never win in our conveniently gerrymandered district). And I talked to the folks at the House Rabbit Society about how badly they need foster families for bunnies. Once I get all healed, I might have to look into this. I do so love bunnies.
But there was one thing that stuck out. In this bastion of left wing idealists there were the requisite bible-thumpers with their large signs and abortion pictures. Now those were revolting, but not unexpected. However, the thing that really did stick out was the pitiable looking man with a 5 foot sign that read "Give me 5 minutes and I will proved to you that god exists and jesus died for your sins". Seriously. It was like Grecian Formula challenge meets Pascal's Wager. I couldn't believe it. I was SO F*CKING bitter that my mouth isn't really working. I wanted to talk to him SO BADLY I could feel it. Actually, that was the twinge in my hip as I whirled around to read his sign. But STILL! I mean, here is a person who is apparently so unclear on the concept of "faith" that not only is he seeking to prove his beliefs to himself... he wants to prove them to YOU. It never ceases to amaze me how some people (not all mind you, but some) who claim that faith is the most important thing in their lives still seem convinced that faith and "proof" need to co-exist. And damn, i just realized that i missed the Union of Concerned Scientists booth. how ironic.
OK, I am off to tend to my chicken stock. And maybe take a pain pill. But really, I might just be over those. How sad...
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