Friday the 13th: The Curse of the Tooth from Hell

I’m broken. M and I made the 2,5-hour drive to visit his parents on Friday. And now I’m hurting.

In the car on the way here my tooth broke. I was eating some candy (cause everyone knows you can’t drive for almost 3 hours without candy) and as I chewed on the candy I suddenly realized I was chewing on parts of my own tooth. Nothing makes candy taste bad like little pieces of tooth in it. I spit out the pieces of tooth and felt around a little with my tongue. Half of the tooth was gone and I was sitting there with all the insides of the tooth completely exposed. It didn’t feel great.

For some strange reason it feels like whenever we visit M’s parents all we do is eat all day long. Normally this wouldn’t bother me, but with half a tooth in my mouth, eating has proven a little bit tricky. I try to use the fork to stick the food as far into the other cheek as I possibly can, then I tilt my head to the side and try to make gravity help me keep the food away from the tooth from hell. I think M’s parents think I’ve lost my mind.

Add to that the fact that I apparently have a little bit of a relapse on my herniated disc and my back hurts as hell, which makes me walk around like Quasimodo, back hunched, head tilted to the side. I’m pretty sure the family wasn’t happy with the announcement that I’m moving in with M come January.

I have to cut this short now. Dinner is ready. Again. *

Friday the 13th: The Curse of the Tooth from Hell

"...and it had the consistency of roofing tar!"

Last night M and I visited some great friends of ours who happen to have the most adorable little son. Adam is almost a year old and chaos on two legs. No button, book or spatula is safe when Adam is loose. It’s with great joy and a certain amount of trepidation I’m looking forward to when I’ll be the one dealing with projectile vomit, poo diapers, functioning on 2 hours of sleep a night and playing peek-a-boo all day long. It’s my firm belief that all new parents revert to the level of a 5-year old mentally, to be able to cope with everything a baby brings, (I’m not saying that you, Adam’s wonderful and very adult parents, are at the level of a 5-year old, I’m just presenting a theory here.) I also think it’s fascinating how bodily functions suddenly become so very interesting. This is an actual (completely made up) conversation between two new mothers:

Mommy #1: “The baby’s poop was black for three whole weeks after the birth.”

Mommy #2“ Really? Ours was only black for the first week or so.”

Mommy #1: “Is that so? Fascinating!”

It sure is. *

"...and it had the consistency of roofing tar!"

Oink

It’s been a while since I visited my spam folder. This is mostly due to the fact that my Russian mail order bride still hasn’t contacted me – a fact that makes me both frustrated and a little depressed. Today, though, when I checked my spam folder for notes from Anna, I noticed a couple of pretty creative, and somewhat disturbing, subject lines.

“With some extra inches you will open some extra possibilities for yourself.”

Now this is so true! I’m only 5’1 and I can barely even reach the wheel when I drive a car. With some extra inches I would be able to do a ton of stuff that I can only dream about now. For instance, I could reach the top shelf in the kitchen without using a ladder. I could see over the wheel when I drive Steve. I could go to the movies and not have to sit on a pillow. My life would be so much improved if I had a few extra inches. I think I’m going to give it a go.

I also saw this subject line:

“Nothing excites women more than a big bulge in your penis.”

Actually, guys, I can guarantee that there is nothing in the entire world that excites women less than a big bulge in your penis. If you have a big bulge in, on, or anywhere around your penis you’re probably better off seeing a doctor. Yuck.

My arm is killing me today. I’ve been vaccinating people for the swine flu all day and ended the day by letting the nurse stick a needle in me. I think it’s kind of disturbing that I let her inject me with trace amounts of the Spanish flu, but if it keeps me from oinking like a pig, I’m all for it.

*

Oink

Recycling FTW

I found this picture on another blog and like the author of that blog, I was completely outraged. I cannot believe the audacity of some people. They actually put a ring around that poor chicken’s leg! That’s animal torture right there. The toddler, on the other hand, seriously? Children have no manners nowadays.

On an unrelated note, I just ate an entire ox at a Greek restaurant. I won’t need to eat again until Christmas. I could probably feed all those little baby penguins in Antarctica all winter long just by regurgitating little pieces of ox.

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Recycling FTW

It Never Snows in Libya

Thank heavens I went all MacGyver on Steve’s ass last weekend, because today I had to start my day by brushing a thin but very cold layer of snow off my poor car. I love the first snow of the winter. It always makes everything seem so light and clean and beautiful …and cold as hell. Also, the first snow is usually pretty harmless and melts away in a few days. Nothing at all like the snow storms we’ll be having in January. Come January I’ll be planning my imminent relocation to a place that is entirely filled with stuff that isn’t ice and snow. Like Libya.

Until then, I’ll be enjoying the light dusting of pretty white stuff that covers the ground tonight.

This is a picture I took at the cemetery today when I visited Grandpa’s grave.

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It Never Snows in Libya

When I Grow Up I'm Going To Marry MacGyver

Happy Halloween! I hope everyone had a great Halloween and got happy and/or drunk and dressed up in scary outfits. M and I went to a party with a 1980’s theme. At first I was a little worried about finding suitable clothes and stuff, I was like 4 years old in the 80’s, but luckily Muschu came shopping with me and we found the ugliest cutest black mini ruffle skirt with gold specks on it. Hot pink tights, huge hair and nasty makeup and I totally looked the part.

We had a great time at the party, but I was a little sad that we didn’t get to dress up in scary costumes and scare the crap out of little kids. The 80’s theme was fun and all, but we were about as threatening as Switzerland. My friend Zelma looked gorgeous, though. She should definitely dress up in her 80’s wear more often.

But I have to tell you, the best part of the weekend wasn’t the Halloween thing. It was the fact that I got dad to screw on Steve’s new license plate! Steve looks great now, plates in all the right places. Almost like new (if it were 1995). And then M and I channeled MacGyver. No, we didn’t defuse a bomb with shoe string, a piece of bubble gum and a paper clip. We got down and dirty in true MacGyver fashion and changed the tires from my pretty summer tires to badass studded winter tires, using only a jack lift, a wrench and a screwdriver. The screwdriver wasn’t entirely necessary, but we figured more tools would make us more efficient. And MacGyver would definitely have used the screwdriver. Or a rusty nail. I’m not sure if it made us more efficient or not, but we did manage to change the tires. Steve and I are officially ready for winter. And tomorrow M will start growing the mullet. MacGyver rules. *

When I Grow Up I'm Going To Marry MacGyver