I had quite a productive morning today... I'd dare say it qualifies the whole day to be labeled, "productive." I made it to the bank, the grocery store, Home Depot, and Hell-Mart. While I was driving back to my apartment, I was at the corner of Belcher and Gulf-to-Bay (forgive the specificity, my non-Clearwater friends) and saw a plethora of Clearwater police cars go flying west on Gulf-to-Bay towards the beaches. Behind them was a huge metal police truck with a cement ball being towed behind it. "What the hell??" I thought, as it flew by. For some reason my mind was experiencing a delay as I watched the scene unfold because it was only after the truck had passed that I realized the side of it said "Bomb Squad" - so be sure and keep your eyes peeled to the news. Part of Clearwater may have been blown up. Not my 'hood, though, so I can't really be bothered to be all that concerned.
Anywho... So last night I was utterly bored and started watching a bit of Alias (does that surprise anyone? Didn't think so...) It was an episode with Katya Derevko (played by the ever-great Isabella Rossellini) when I realized, "Oh snap! I never watched the green porno stuff she did!"
Green porno you ask? Here, read the news story that I did when I first heard about this:
http://www.cnn.com/2008/SHOWBIZ/TV/05/05/isabella.rossellini/index.html?iref=newssearch
Suffice it to say, I paused Alias and hopped on over to Sundance (well, not literally... oh hell - you get the point) and watched the videos. I'd say my reaction was a mix of entertainment and that bizzarre train-wreck inability to turn away. Take a gander:
http://www.sundancechannel.com/greenporno (click on "Watch Green Porno" in the upper right hand corner)
Well, since I've been SO productive, I'm going to finish watching my Alias from last night.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Still Alive. Sort of...
Well, over the past week I’ve been very, very sick. Finally today, though, I’m feeling a bit better. However, my right eye is a little bloodshot and seems to have a buildup of eye goop, which is none too fun. Or attractive, I'm sure. But neither is my unkempt hair and week's worth of scruff. Eh, what can you do...
I keep having dreams that, while not reoccurring, are basically the same dream with the story line tweaked a bit differently. It’s very odd. I’ve never had something like that happen before where you could be in the dream and hanging out in a building, or a restaurant, or driving in a car, or walking, but you seem to always be talking to the same person and for all intents and purposes, having the same conversation. It’s a little upsetting and kind of nice, all at the same time. Upsetting because it leaves me wondering “Why?” and I’ve been doing that far too much, but nice because even if it’s just a dream, you get to spend time with someone that you miss.
The frequency made me want to listen to songs. Generally because when I feel emotionally torn or confused, I find that listening to a song or music that talks about what you’re feeling or just evokes certain emotions helps me think better. Or sometimes it just emotionally drains me and that can be good as well; a fresh start. A clean slate. This time, though, there were two songs I kept gravitating towards, “Fast Car” by Tracey Chapman and “Hell Yeah” by Ani DiFranco. Well, I have “Fast Car” on my laptop, so I was able to listen to it right away. “Hell Yeah”, though, was a different story. A while ago, my car was broken into (broken may be a harsh term… violated through abuse of my neglectful keyless remote may be more appropriate) and a bunch of my CD’s were taken. My Ani mixed CD was, apparently, in that bunch. After some spelunking around the internet, though, I found it on a site and just kind of sat back. It was definitely more of a draining moment. After I was done, all I could think was, “Shoot. I wonder if I messed up...”
I don't think we ever really mess up, though. Or at least that's what I hope. I think that, yes, sometimes things can be done differently that would have yielded different, perhaps more desireable results, but in the end, life is just too hard to always look back and wonder if something was missed or screwed up. I'll just have to be thankful for having the moments and opportunities that I have, and those yet to come.
“Hell Yeah”
By Ani DiFranco
life is a b movie
it's stupid and it's strange
a directionless story
and the dialogue is lame
but in the he said she said
sometimes there's some poetry
if you turn your back long enough
and let it happen naturally
oh, yeah
hell yeah
i got a face like a limp handshake
hair like an accident scene
i've been waking up slowly
savoring the same old dream
and somewhere between
the folds of your memory
i was sleeping soundly
oh, yeah
hell yeah
'cause i like you
but i know you don't know it
i like you so much,
i talk to everyone but you
and i wonder
what you would think of this little number
i wonder
what you would say if you knew
if you don't ask the right questions
every answer feels wrong
i was a terrible waitress
so i started to write songs
and i don't know how i feel
but i wonder if you feel like me
do you ever get wrapped up
in the folds of my memory
oh, yeah
hell, yeah
'cause i like you
but i know you don't know it
i like you so much
i talk to everyone but you
and i wonder
what you would think of this little number
yeah i wonder
what you would say if you knew
there's a river of people
that runs past my eyes
and it's beautiful enough
just to watch it go by
but the trouble with water is
she'll always leave you for gravity
i never even told you
i had a crush on you or anything
oh, yeah
hell yeah
life is a b movie
it's stupid and it's strange
a directionless story
and the dialogue is lame
but in the he said she said
sometimes there's some poetry
if you turn your back long enough
and let it happen naturally
oh, yeah
hell yeah
I keep having dreams that, while not reoccurring, are basically the same dream with the story line tweaked a bit differently. It’s very odd. I’ve never had something like that happen before where you could be in the dream and hanging out in a building, or a restaurant, or driving in a car, or walking, but you seem to always be talking to the same person and for all intents and purposes, having the same conversation. It’s a little upsetting and kind of nice, all at the same time. Upsetting because it leaves me wondering “Why?” and I’ve been doing that far too much, but nice because even if it’s just a dream, you get to spend time with someone that you miss.
The frequency made me want to listen to songs. Generally because when I feel emotionally torn or confused, I find that listening to a song or music that talks about what you’re feeling or just evokes certain emotions helps me think better. Or sometimes it just emotionally drains me and that can be good as well; a fresh start. A clean slate. This time, though, there were two songs I kept gravitating towards, “Fast Car” by Tracey Chapman and “Hell Yeah” by Ani DiFranco. Well, I have “Fast Car” on my laptop, so I was able to listen to it right away. “Hell Yeah”, though, was a different story. A while ago, my car was broken into (broken may be a harsh term… violated through abuse of my neglectful keyless remote may be more appropriate) and a bunch of my CD’s were taken. My Ani mixed CD was, apparently, in that bunch. After some spelunking around the internet, though, I found it on a site and just kind of sat back. It was definitely more of a draining moment. After I was done, all I could think was, “Shoot. I wonder if I messed up...”
I don't think we ever really mess up, though. Or at least that's what I hope. I think that, yes, sometimes things can be done differently that would have yielded different, perhaps more desireable results, but in the end, life is just too hard to always look back and wonder if something was missed or screwed up. I'll just have to be thankful for having the moments and opportunities that I have, and those yet to come.
“Hell Yeah”
By Ani DiFranco
life is a b movie
it's stupid and it's strange
a directionless story
and the dialogue is lame
but in the he said she said
sometimes there's some poetry
if you turn your back long enough
and let it happen naturally
oh, yeah
hell yeah
i got a face like a limp handshake
hair like an accident scene
i've been waking up slowly
savoring the same old dream
and somewhere between
the folds of your memory
i was sleeping soundly
oh, yeah
hell yeah
'cause i like you
but i know you don't know it
i like you so much,
i talk to everyone but you
and i wonder
what you would think of this little number
i wonder
what you would say if you knew
if you don't ask the right questions
every answer feels wrong
i was a terrible waitress
so i started to write songs
and i don't know how i feel
but i wonder if you feel like me
do you ever get wrapped up
in the folds of my memory
oh, yeah
hell, yeah
'cause i like you
but i know you don't know it
i like you so much
i talk to everyone but you
and i wonder
what you would think of this little number
yeah i wonder
what you would say if you knew
there's a river of people
that runs past my eyes
and it's beautiful enough
just to watch it go by
but the trouble with water is
she'll always leave you for gravity
i never even told you
i had a crush on you or anything
oh, yeah
hell yeah
life is a b movie
it's stupid and it's strange
a directionless story
and the dialogue is lame
but in the he said she said
sometimes there's some poetry
if you turn your back long enough
and let it happen naturally
oh, yeah
hell yeah
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Where Have All The Small Woodland Creatures Gone?
Was exactly what I was wondering as I was doubled over in exhaustion, sweat pouring down my forehead.
"Why are you on your hands and knees scrubbing your bathroom floor by hand??" I asked myself, half out loud, half in my mind.
You see, I invited my mother to visit for Mother's Day. No, not just Sunday. Not just Saturday and Sunday, either. Yes, I invited her for the whole weekend, starting tomorrow (Friday) at 5:00. Several months ago, when the words came out of my mouth, "Hey, would you want to come up for Mother's Day weekend?" and as I heard her gasp in excitement, my mental self shattered into two distinct identities: The part of me that shrugged, as if to say, "What? Isn't it a nice thing to do? What's wrong?" and the other, tugging at it's hair and shrieking in horror, "It's your MOTHER!", to which the other personality responded, "Oh... right."
My mother and I don't exactly get along. We don't even really get along in a vague sense, and yet at the same time, we do. It's strange. She's just always been so quick to gloss over who I am and "love" the me she sees in her mind and as a small child... Every time I try to reconcile her view of me and get her to see who I am, it becomes this explosive event in which she just seems to denounce my existence. Yet, I think I understand how her mind works (don't get me wrong, I don't approve of how she carries herself and acts, but that's beside the point.) and I'm able to parry with her baiting. Even as I typed that, I sort of had an epiphany. I was typing quite quickly, but as I neared the end of the phrase, "don't get me wrong, I don't approve of how she carries herself and acts"... I stopped typing. Wow. That realization brings things into context. Sort of. She disapproves of aspects of me that I had no choice in, and in turn, I disapprove of the specific things she chooses to do. Hmmm...
At any rate, I hoped at some point, one of my other siblings would step up to the challenge and come up with something infinitely more interesting for her to do and she would ditch out. That didn't happen. Honestly, I'm sure when she told them that she was coming here, they mentally exhaled. They didn't bail me out, and today, when she called and asked, "Do you still want me to come this weekend?" after an incredibly stressful day when I had a night of cleaning ahead of myself, the one personality thought, "Here's our chance!" (He probably said it while wringing his hands like an old-school villain) but the other, perpetually optimistic one said, "No! She's baiting us! Plus, we have to prove that we're the bigger person!" (Him? He was probably watching cartoons and eating a bowl of cereal... douche bag. You can clearly see which one I root for...) "Of course," I said, weaving in and out of god-awful traffic, "but can I see you tomorrow? I've got a lot of traffic that I'm in right now."
So fast forward to me, crumpled in the bathroom floor, dizzy from the fumes of scrubbing bubbles and Windex. I reached up and wiped the sweat off of my forehead, and then as an after thought, panicked at the thought of the chemicals potentially interacting with my sweat and melting my face off. "Goddammit!" I screamed.
"See... you should have canceled." The villainous apparition in my head said, sitting in his office chair, sipping on a dry martini and petting a snow white cat. "It'll be okay! It'll be fun! Worst-case scenario, you've got a REALLY clean apartment now!" The perpetual child apparition retorted, bouncing through my mind with a balloon in tow.
The cat proceeded to maul the child apparition and as his balloon floated into the stratosphere of my mind, I couldn't help but smile a little.
It is a really clean apartment, though.
"Why are you on your hands and knees scrubbing your bathroom floor by hand??" I asked myself, half out loud, half in my mind.
You see, I invited my mother to visit for Mother's Day. No, not just Sunday. Not just Saturday and Sunday, either. Yes, I invited her for the whole weekend, starting tomorrow (Friday) at 5:00. Several months ago, when the words came out of my mouth, "Hey, would you want to come up for Mother's Day weekend?" and as I heard her gasp in excitement, my mental self shattered into two distinct identities: The part of me that shrugged, as if to say, "What? Isn't it a nice thing to do? What's wrong?" and the other, tugging at it's hair and shrieking in horror, "It's your MOTHER!", to which the other personality responded, "Oh... right."
My mother and I don't exactly get along. We don't even really get along in a vague sense, and yet at the same time, we do. It's strange. She's just always been so quick to gloss over who I am and "love" the me she sees in her mind and as a small child... Every time I try to reconcile her view of me and get her to see who I am, it becomes this explosive event in which she just seems to denounce my existence. Yet, I think I understand how her mind works (don't get me wrong, I don't approve of how she carries herself and acts, but that's beside the point.) and I'm able to parry with her baiting. Even as I typed that, I sort of had an epiphany. I was typing quite quickly, but as I neared the end of the phrase, "don't get me wrong, I don't approve of how she carries herself and acts"... I stopped typing. Wow. That realization brings things into context. Sort of. She disapproves of aspects of me that I had no choice in, and in turn, I disapprove of the specific things she chooses to do. Hmmm...
At any rate, I hoped at some point, one of my other siblings would step up to the challenge and come up with something infinitely more interesting for her to do and she would ditch out. That didn't happen. Honestly, I'm sure when she told them that she was coming here, they mentally exhaled. They didn't bail me out, and today, when she called and asked, "Do you still want me to come this weekend?" after an incredibly stressful day when I had a night of cleaning ahead of myself, the one personality thought, "Here's our chance!" (He probably said it while wringing his hands like an old-school villain) but the other, perpetually optimistic one said, "No! She's baiting us! Plus, we have to prove that we're the bigger person!" (Him? He was probably watching cartoons and eating a bowl of cereal... douche bag. You can clearly see which one I root for...) "Of course," I said, weaving in and out of god-awful traffic, "but can I see you tomorrow? I've got a lot of traffic that I'm in right now."
So fast forward to me, crumpled in the bathroom floor, dizzy from the fumes of scrubbing bubbles and Windex. I reached up and wiped the sweat off of my forehead, and then as an after thought, panicked at the thought of the chemicals potentially interacting with my sweat and melting my face off. "Goddammit!" I screamed.
"See... you should have canceled." The villainous apparition in my head said, sitting in his office chair, sipping on a dry martini and petting a snow white cat. "It'll be okay! It'll be fun! Worst-case scenario, you've got a REALLY clean apartment now!" The perpetual child apparition retorted, bouncing through my mind with a balloon in tow.
The cat proceeded to maul the child apparition and as his balloon floated into the stratosphere of my mind, I couldn't help but smile a little.
It is a really clean apartment, though.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Official hello
So I’ve succeeded in doing absolutely nothing this evening. I suppose in certain contexts that could be quite an achievement, yet somehow I can’t help but feel completely “underwhelmed” by myself.
I created the shell for this blog probably three months ago, wrote one entry, and promptly deleted it. That’s how I roll. In all seriousness, though, I’ve never been capable of keeping a journal. Even as a child, I could never bear the thought of writing down my thoughts, whether they’re absolutely absurd musings about the world or my most sincere, and perhaps darkest, feelings. I always thought: Why open yourself up to that vulnerability?
Somehow, though, over the past few days I’ve thought more and more about my reticence in putting those thoughts and feelings to words. Does it make them any less real if you don’t record them? Do you somehow have more control over them if only you know them? No, I suppose not. I guess when you really get down to the core of it, maybe that’s what I was hoping. If you didn’t write down that you were sad or confused or broken or lost or felt alone, well, then, you didn’t really feel that way. In retrospect, that’s pretty flawed logic, but in my defense, I guess I can see how I would have followed that train of thought.
So here we are, full circle, three months later. I had been thinking earlier about the events that led to that first aborted blog and realized I was still holding on to something that wasn’t there any more, emotionally speaking. Perhaps if I had gone ahead and written the thoughts down and gotten them out, I could have moved on quicker, but hey, you live and you learn. In honor of that epiphany, I “borrowed” two of my blogs from Myspace to sort of “start up” this blog. I’m sure there’ll be a shared reservoir of material between the two of them which is only natural, given the source, but I’ll try to make this a much more accurate portrait of me, my thoughts, my writings and my musings. Let’s hope it doesn’t turn in to a hot fierce tranny mess. You dig?
By the way, happy Cinco de Mayo to everyone. I’m not a big beer drinker, so it’s not like I was like, “Oh hell yeah, let’s knock a few back!” Actually, I’m not a big fan of tequila, either, so clearly this is not a day for the merriment for me. I do like Sangria, though, although I don’t know that one could call that authentically Mexican. I did eat a tortilla, though, so there.
I created the shell for this blog probably three months ago, wrote one entry, and promptly deleted it. That’s how I roll. In all seriousness, though, I’ve never been capable of keeping a journal. Even as a child, I could never bear the thought of writing down my thoughts, whether they’re absolutely absurd musings about the world or my most sincere, and perhaps darkest, feelings. I always thought: Why open yourself up to that vulnerability?
Somehow, though, over the past few days I’ve thought more and more about my reticence in putting those thoughts and feelings to words. Does it make them any less real if you don’t record them? Do you somehow have more control over them if only you know them? No, I suppose not. I guess when you really get down to the core of it, maybe that’s what I was hoping. If you didn’t write down that you were sad or confused or broken or lost or felt alone, well, then, you didn’t really feel that way. In retrospect, that’s pretty flawed logic, but in my defense, I guess I can see how I would have followed that train of thought.
So here we are, full circle, three months later. I had been thinking earlier about the events that led to that first aborted blog and realized I was still holding on to something that wasn’t there any more, emotionally speaking. Perhaps if I had gone ahead and written the thoughts down and gotten them out, I could have moved on quicker, but hey, you live and you learn. In honor of that epiphany, I “borrowed” two of my blogs from Myspace to sort of “start up” this blog. I’m sure there’ll be a shared reservoir of material between the two of them which is only natural, given the source, but I’ll try to make this a much more accurate portrait of me, my thoughts, my writings and my musings. Let’s hope it doesn’t turn in to a hot fierce tranny mess. You dig?
By the way, happy Cinco de Mayo to everyone. I’m not a big beer drinker, so it’s not like I was like, “Oh hell yeah, let’s knock a few back!” Actually, I’m not a big fan of tequila, either, so clearly this is not a day for the merriment for me. I do like Sangria, though, although I don’t know that one could call that authentically Mexican. I did eat a tortilla, though, so there.
Dear IRS stimulus check...
Dr. IRS Stimulus Check,
Wow. Okay. So, I'm not really sure how to say this, so I'm going to just dive right in.
Before you get here next week, there are some things I need to say to you that if I wait until you get here, I'm afraid I won't be able to say to you.
I think you have multiple personality disorder.
I just… I'm not saying this to hurt you, but I really think it's true. I'm serious. I mean, one day you're an iPhone, the next day you are an elegant yet understated bookshelf. You had suggested becoming a fabulous addition to my somewhat lacking wardrobe. One time you were a significant addition to my DVD collection. Remember the time you wanted to be a cushion for bills? Or the time you were going to be a payment on my credit card? You wanted to be a vacation… a road trip, a cruise, a lazy weekend walking around Savannah or Charleston… New bedding. New cookware. Why, just these past few days you've even talked about helping me with my apparently much needed continued dental work.
What I'm trying to say is, while I admire your ambition to be so much, you can't (and it pains me to say this, it really does) be all of those things. You have to choose. Please figure out what you want to be. I'll support you in whatever decision you make (although, I have to be honest, being a cushion for bills, a payment to my credit card, or helping out with my teeth is kind of boring and would be squandering your potential.) but I need you to make a decision before you get here. I'm sorry to lay down the law like this, but I feel I must.
With that being said, I want you to know that I love you unconditionally and can't wait to see you.
[Originally posted on myspace blog 4/26/08]
Wow. Okay. So, I'm not really sure how to say this, so I'm going to just dive right in.
Before you get here next week, there are some things I need to say to you that if I wait until you get here, I'm afraid I won't be able to say to you.
I think you have multiple personality disorder.
I just… I'm not saying this to hurt you, but I really think it's true. I'm serious. I mean, one day you're an iPhone, the next day you are an elegant yet understated bookshelf. You had suggested becoming a fabulous addition to my somewhat lacking wardrobe. One time you were a significant addition to my DVD collection. Remember the time you wanted to be a cushion for bills? Or the time you were going to be a payment on my credit card? You wanted to be a vacation… a road trip, a cruise, a lazy weekend walking around Savannah or Charleston… New bedding. New cookware. Why, just these past few days you've even talked about helping me with my apparently much needed continued dental work.
What I'm trying to say is, while I admire your ambition to be so much, you can't (and it pains me to say this, it really does) be all of those things. You have to choose. Please figure out what you want to be. I'll support you in whatever decision you make (although, I have to be honest, being a cushion for bills, a payment to my credit card, or helping out with my teeth is kind of boring and would be squandering your potential.) but I need you to make a decision before you get here. I'm sorry to lay down the law like this, but I feel I must.
With that being said, I want you to know that I love you unconditionally and can't wait to see you.
[Originally posted on myspace blog 4/26/08]
Carrots - Good for eyes; For teeth, not so much...
I walked down to the cafeteria for my lunch hour and saw my two work friends already sitting at our table. Setting down my makeshift lunch box (an ever-so-handy Publix grocery bag), I quickly said hello before whisking off to the water fountain to fill up my bottle. Returning to the table, I slid into my chair as I took a sip of water while reading the front page of the paper my friend was holding up.
"An alligator was found in someone's kitchen?" I said incredulously as I pulled open my small snack pack of baby carrots.
"Yeah… it was chasing a cat. It was found at like, ten o'clock at night." He said, not looking up from the paper.
"That's kind of late for an alligator to be out." Our other companion said, absent-mindedly stirring her Chef Boyardee Ravioli.
"And what exactly is curfew for reptiles these days?" I asked mischievously as I chewed on a carrot.
"Shut up."
Suddenly, as I bit down on my carrot, I felt something distinctly tough in the flesh of my miniature vegetable. No, not tough. Down-right hard. "If this is a bug of some kind," I thought, "I will vomit right here and now."
"What's the matter?" My friend asked, obviously taking note of the confusion written all over my face.
"Thewe's somefing in mah cawwot" I mumbled, with a mouthful.
"Ewww."
I spit the contents of my mouth out into the palm of my hand. We both peered inquisitively at the contents.
"What is that?!?" She asked, fascinated. I had no clue, and shrugged my shoulders before contorting my face while trying to discern what lay in my hand. Suddenly, my stomach sank. My tongue slid to the side of my mouth.
"Oh my god. That's my fucking tooth." I said.
"No way! Open up!" She said excitedly. As I turned to face her with my jaw slack and open, I heard her gasp.
"There's a huge chunk gone from your molar!" She said, laughing in disbelief.
"Of course there is!" I said exasperated, "Because it's sitting in my goddamn hand!"
I immediately ran upstairs to my desk and logged into the online payroll system. Frantically, I clicked on the option to view my paycheck stub online. If there was a soundtrack to that moment, angels would have sang as I saw the deduction clear as day, "Insurance – Dental". Thank god I signed up for that on a whim long ago when I first started. I remember thinking, "Well, I'll never need it, but just in case…"
Who knew that the "just in case" would involve a belligerent baby carrot?
I quickly dialed the dentist.
"Um… I'm not really sure how to approach this, so I'm just going to say it. I ate a carrot, and it broke my tooth. I need to come in. Now." I fidgeted with the phone cord, realizing how ridiculous that must have sounded.
"Oh. Wait a minute. A carrot?" She asked.
"Yeah, I know. I had the same reaction. When can you see me?" I said dismissively.
"Well, the soonest we can get you in is tomorrow at 2:30. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, I guess that's fine."
"Are you feeling any pain? Are you okay?"
"Well, my faith in vegetables has been shaken, but I think I can hold out on the pain front until tomorrow. Thanks."
[Originally posted on myspace blog 4/23/08]
"An alligator was found in someone's kitchen?" I said incredulously as I pulled open my small snack pack of baby carrots.
"Yeah… it was chasing a cat. It was found at like, ten o'clock at night." He said, not looking up from the paper.
"That's kind of late for an alligator to be out." Our other companion said, absent-mindedly stirring her Chef Boyardee Ravioli.
"And what exactly is curfew for reptiles these days?" I asked mischievously as I chewed on a carrot.
"Shut up."
Suddenly, as I bit down on my carrot, I felt something distinctly tough in the flesh of my miniature vegetable. No, not tough. Down-right hard. "If this is a bug of some kind," I thought, "I will vomit right here and now."
"What's the matter?" My friend asked, obviously taking note of the confusion written all over my face.
"Thewe's somefing in mah cawwot" I mumbled, with a mouthful.
"Ewww."
I spit the contents of my mouth out into the palm of my hand. We both peered inquisitively at the contents.
"What is that?!?" She asked, fascinated. I had no clue, and shrugged my shoulders before contorting my face while trying to discern what lay in my hand. Suddenly, my stomach sank. My tongue slid to the side of my mouth.
"Oh my god. That's my fucking tooth." I said.
"No way! Open up!" She said excitedly. As I turned to face her with my jaw slack and open, I heard her gasp.
"There's a huge chunk gone from your molar!" She said, laughing in disbelief.
"Of course there is!" I said exasperated, "Because it's sitting in my goddamn hand!"
I immediately ran upstairs to my desk and logged into the online payroll system. Frantically, I clicked on the option to view my paycheck stub online. If there was a soundtrack to that moment, angels would have sang as I saw the deduction clear as day, "Insurance – Dental". Thank god I signed up for that on a whim long ago when I first started. I remember thinking, "Well, I'll never need it, but just in case…"
Who knew that the "just in case" would involve a belligerent baby carrot?
I quickly dialed the dentist.
"Um… I'm not really sure how to approach this, so I'm just going to say it. I ate a carrot, and it broke my tooth. I need to come in. Now." I fidgeted with the phone cord, realizing how ridiculous that must have sounded.
"Oh. Wait a minute. A carrot?" She asked.
"Yeah, I know. I had the same reaction. When can you see me?" I said dismissively.
"Well, the soonest we can get you in is tomorrow at 2:30. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, I guess that's fine."
"Are you feeling any pain? Are you okay?"
"Well, my faith in vegetables has been shaken, but I think I can hold out on the pain front until tomorrow. Thanks."
[Originally posted on myspace blog 4/23/08]
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
