short 4 teeth

i do not miss my 3rd molars. i had them yanked a week ago. i still have vicodin left. the oral surgeon gave me 16. i hit them pretty hard for a couple days, and i haven't had one since wednesday at this point.

i also found out i really kinda like being knocked out on purpose. i got 2 drugs, i.v. versed and fentanyl. i don't remember going under. i came to about 10 minutes before it was over, and i didn't give a shit. of course, i couldn't feel a thing anyway. they shot me up like a motherfuck with novacaine too. that wearing off was the shittiest thing about the whole experience.

i think i'm healing up really well. i got some stitches, that i think have dissolved by now. i can't feel them anymore, anyway. i wonder how much easier this would have gone when they started to come in. i was 28 when i got my wisdom teeth. i *barely* had the room for them. the upper 2 were in sad fuckin shape, and they had to go. the bottom 2 never fully erupted, and they'd been a bitch in their own way the whole time.

i had insurance then. i haven't had insurance for just over 2 years now. the insurance i did have denied the claim i submitted to have this done 3½ years ago. o, they were pathological alright. i saw them. i praise the flying spaghetti monster that my other 28 teeth are in fine shape.


anyhoo, something has occurred to me: wen'l and i are doing some very serious investigating into moving to australia. like, immigration policy has been well-researched. the employment situation has been looked into. their pm has made some moves which are encouraging, like adding a certain number of green jobs. wen'ls skill set is rather unique. there aren't enough people already there to handle the increased work load.

sorry for rambling, but i'm waaaaaaaaay hi. i've become a much cheaper date in the ganj dept. the thing that's occurred to me is this: i have to write a book and get it published before we get out of here. i need to do this so i can have a wee book tour and meet a few peeps i've come across on my virtual travels. it'd be sweet getting to do it on someone else's dime, too.

k i gotta bounce.

still 39 dammit

well for about an hour and 50 minutes anyway. ain't it a bitch that i have to turn 40 on a monday?

anyhoo, we had a few peeps over for dinner tonight. carnitas and margaritas and a cake that gave me a belly ache. apparently i am too old for pastries that rich.

got some kick-ass swag. my darling wen'l got me "message in a box", the complete recordings of the police and a pair of silver earrings from coach. they're little peace signs, and i've had my eye on them forever. he's the kind of guy who files things away for future reference. i love that about him.

my auntie dee got me a watch. alas, it was a bit too small, so we're going to hook up later in the week and go get me a different one.

julianne and erik got me a gift card for bed, bath and beyond. it'll be fun figuring out what to get with it. :)

my brother got me a bevmo! gift card and 2 pair of kicks from his company, creative recreation. one's a pair of white high tops. the other ones i've had my eye on for months... he gets free shooz every season, and these other ones are from their hi-end line which is made in italy. he'd been yanking my chain about how he couldn't get the italian sneaks. they're carried at barney's and retail for $345 a pair. how fucking cool is it that my first pair of italian shooz is a pair of sneakers! they're suede and have hidden laces, and apparently i could get a grip for them on ebay. but fuck that! they're the first shoes in like 10 years other than flip-flops or birkenstocks i actually want to wear.

and... probably my biggest present i won't get till tomorrow. it's a present i'm giving myself. i am going to quit smoking tomorrow. well, actually i'm going to stop smoking in about an hour, when i have my last (HOPEFULLY!!!!) cigarette. i've got nicotine gum, and i'm going to use it. i'm going to sweat this out and get off the damn things. i'm going to have oral surgery before too much longer, and i've heard that dry sockets are worse than the pain of the actual extraction.

besides, my mom died of lung cancer. and i love my husband and i want to be with him for as long as i fucking can be, and smoking isn't compatible with a long life.

wish me luck kids!

2K

lest you think my mind is all on myself tonight, it's not. tonight i heard the number i've been dreading for months - keith olbermann said tonight that it was the 2000th day since the declaration of mission accomplished.

i have a cousin over there.

there are much worse things in the world, even in my tiny one, than a tumor in my parotid gland.

sometimes i wish i were the kind of person who prays. sometimes, when things are really bad, i have a conversation with my late cousin stephen. (who died from a lack of health care btw. i remember all too well and it makes me scared in a way i can't adequately explain.). this conversation occurs only in my mind, but i remember having a very frank talk with him a few weeks before he suddenly died, and it brought me a very profound peace. i suppose it makes some sense that an atheist like me would have to have a vent (if you will) like that. i haven't yet had that conversation with him, so things can't be as bad as i was afraid.

stephen's been gone for 14 years now. the ache i feel at his absence is much deeper than what i feel for my own mother. that may sound pretty fucked up, but i'd known for 9 years that it was going to happen with her. he was alive, and a day later he wasn't. i think it's his being snatched away from us like that left a mark on me that will never go away.

i got to (just) long enough to say that life is long. trust me, even when i'm whining about how fucked up things are, i am incredibly grateful i've gotten to be here long enough to earn saying that.

back!

i left yesterday saying i need to go gas the beast, etc...

so i'm at the arco on the corner of dale and ball and the place is packed. it's one of the more reasonably priced gas stations around, so it's really no surprise that i have to wait for a pump. my fellow patrons are all grumbling about how little gas they're getting for their $50 (13 gallons here, and i got the *regular* unleaded). they sounded a bit, uhh... i dunno... bitter?

i don't believe in guns or god, so i can't cling (oops, does that make me elitist?) to either of those things, but i'm glad i have my DH. i'm sure he's glad he's got me too. it's better being bitter with someone you love, you know?

another thing i'm bitter about: the arrival of our impending "stimulus package". i wish we weren't so dead crackers broke so i could donate about half of it to mr. obama. that seems about the biggest FUCK YOU statement i can make to the bushies and their ilk in re trying to buy me off with a check for $600.

but just like everyone else i know, i'll be spending that money on shit like rent and the electric bill, not making political contributions or paying for the 3 day weekend out of town wen'l and i could surely stand.

what will you, dear reader(s), be doing when you get stimulated?

he still has his chops

k i didn't bake this lovely loaf of sesame semolina bread, but it was so purdy that i just had to post a pic.

i won't torture you with the recipe or the procedure... hell, i barely understand how sourdough bread works myself, and i live with the world's bestest amateur baker. suffice it to say, this was the best version of this particular loaf ever.

so, w/o further ado:

sesame semolina loaf, version 2.0

a boy and his bread

can you see why i'll never do the atkins diet? and... can you see why i proposed? i'm gonna cook him a lovely breakfast tomorrow morning, and this is gonna make the best damn toast!