Ya'll want to do this. Why?

Because I'm turnin' 35, and in honor of the occasion, I'm going to hold a White Trash Pot Luck.

You'll be sorrier'n a well digger's ass if you miss this party, I'm tellin' you now.

More details to follow!

Or in this case, me. Up with the sun. To go and get a tooth pulled.

This seems like a good idea on the surface. It's the tooth that blew up over SMF this year. It's the tooth that, unbeknownst to me, infected my entire jaw, and thus contributed to six months of me feeling like dung beetle dessert. It's the tooth that broke in half and had to be extracted whether I wanted it pulled or not.

I've never had a tooth pulled.

It sounded scary. It looked scary. And frankly, I've lost enough bits up to this day, I didn't care to lose my tooth. Having my teeth pulled (or fall out) is the stuff of NIGHTMARES for me. I think I woke up snuffling and begging not to go at least four times in the last week.

So. No good. Mom even offered to pay for it. So up I get, out I go, driven to said appointment by my sweet husband.

Traffic is not pretty. I get us off on the wrong exit. We still manage to make it to the appointment on time. Lucky me. They're a little busy, so I have to wait about 30 minutes before they can numb me up. They look at my chart. They ask, "Are you easy to numb up?" I say, "Not really. I sort of felt them drilling on the tooth I had filled here 3 weeks ago." There are blank, horrified stares. They do another check. Only used 1 vial of 'cain. Most people take 2. WHUPS.

They promise I won't feel it. Mind you, dentists are one of my great phobias. Needles are the other. Getting 'numbed up' is akin to me willingly submitting to having my toes chopped off. I sat through the first numbing session. 2 vials, as promised. 15 minutes later, the dentist comes in, prods and pokes, asks, "Can you feel that?" I shrug, "Yeah, some." He nods, "You'll feel some pressure. Say something if it's sharp feeling." "Okay," I promise.

Yeah. I felt that. "Hrm," he says, "No worries. We have a LOT of numbing agents. We'll get you numb."

Three more vials of 'cain later...it's not working. And he's beginning to worry that the original shots are losing their potence. "We have to do it now. I'll be quick." "Okay," I say very quietly, all the while praying it is relatively painless and quick.

It was neither.

The tooth shattered, broke into 2, and required a great deal of poking, prodding, and 'oopsing' on the part of the dentist. "This is a bad time to play hard to get," he chuckles at me. "But that's what your tooth is doing."

"Figures," I drawl softly...and then close my eyes and go back to gripping the seat like a fiend.

I think I only yelped once, and that's when he caught my lip on my teeth on the other side of my mouth. Pinched like an Irish grandmother in Mass, is what it did...but it was a different sort of pain to the sensation of having him yank, prod, grab, dig, and generally fight with the remains of my tooth.

"You have some remarkably unique shaped gums, my friend," he informs me. Then shows me the remains...great.

I have not one, not two, but THREE weird dental anomalies.

1) I have absolutely no over or underbite, and a uniquely shaped jaw, which might be why they have trouble numbing me, since my nerves aren't exactly where everyone else's are...or so he theorized.

2) I have very small, very widely spaced front teeth, a condition he gave me the name of, but at that point in time, I did not care.

3) The roots to my molars are just SCREWY weird.

I hit a negative genetic jackpot, I tell you.

I'm also very sore. He gave no pain meds. I look like a chipmunk even now, and my jaw hurts like someone hammered on it. Because they did.

"Great job of cowboying that," he chuckled as he patted me on the back on the way out. "I know that hurt. I'm sorry."

Gee. Thanks.

At least it's over, I thought to myself. Not quite so. The clot fell out within a few hours (and I hadn't DONE anything). So I call as instructed. He was sympathetic, but assured me that in complicated extractions, that there's about a 10% chance I'll get dry socket. He gave me a list of symptoms to look for, and said to remain sitting up as long as possible, and hope for the best.

So. Here I am. I'd LOVE a nap...but that ain't happening yet.

At least I survived.

Well then. I suppose I should listen to my other half more, huh? I've been trying, believe it or not, but it's not been easy for me.

Researchers found that gratitude predicted better self-reported sleep quality, as well as duration of sleep, and less 'sleep latency' (the amount of time it takes to fall asleep after the lights have gone out) and daytime dysfunction. The relationship between gratitude and each of these variables was mediated by the thoughts people had before falling asleep: more positive before-sleep thoughts and less negative ones. All of these results were found to be unrelated to personality traits, including neuroticism, (which one might expect to affect sleep quality and ability to fall asleep). - Elizabeth Scott, MS

Source

Well, thanks to Caliban1227's almost encyclopedic knowledge of comic book styles (though I still agree, the comic book font looks like an IKEA sale sign...go figure), I was able to google 'Wonder Woman flying elephant' and be rewarded with an answer.

See, Zeus has put Achilles in charge of Paradise Island, and now there's a mysterious rash of pregnancies on the island. No one can figure out where the babies are coming from (my guess is the secret ingredient is peen, but hey, what do I know, I don't read comic books anymore). Apparently the ultra cool flying elephant is Achilles' pet/chariot all wrapped up into one.

On the upside, everyone knows how to get rid of Achilles! Me, I'd kick him in the heel REALLY hard and then keep the semi-bi-carmel elephant for a pet. He looks cute and cuddly.

That's just me, though.

Oh screw, that. Hey, greymalkin, where are you when I need you?

Are you there, caliban1227? It's me, Jim.

I want to know what in the holy name of hell THIS is:

I have to give it an over all 'go see', if you can get tickets!

The aerial acrobatics are worth the price of admission, and on a similar note:

1) I got stumped with a myth. Srsly. How often does THAT happen? As in didn't even recognize the names.
2) They have trivia. Which I did well at.
3) They have acrobatic bodies in skin tight clothing. This is also good.
4) The Attis, Syrinx, and Inanna segments were really well done, and I enjoyed them thoroughly.
5) Got to briefly speak to the directors (really, they're charming folks! And the female half was Brigit @ Sickle circa 1999....small friggin' world).
6) Got to fanboy @ the performer of Erishgikal.

That said, I can't leave well enough alone, and enjoy doing things like reworking plays in my head. And in this case, I would have altered it in the following manner:

1) The 'insane, tuneless piper' in the Wotan bit
2) Reordered the segments: Attis, Syrinx, Telepinu, Wotan, Coatlicue, Inanna.

The answer was: Yes, I DID have H1N1. I should also be well past the point of being able to infect anyone else, though it's possible that was NOT true last Saturday. My last fever was Saturday night.

So. Other than feeling like a cosmic truck's run my ass over, I'm on the mend.

I must say...my encounter with an epic disease was less than overwhelming.

The Pilgrim overtook a strange traveler on the way to the great city. "Wither do you go, O Death?" asked the man in dread. "I go to slay a thousand." On his flight from the blighted city, the man overtook the same traveler, and chided him, "You said you went to slay a thousand, but I found ten thousand dead there!" "True, astute Pilgrim," said Death, "I slew a thousand with plague, and nine thousand died of fright."

I do not know if I have a full blown active infection right now. Should know by Thursday.

If I've seen you in the past 7 days or so, there's a possibility that you've been exposed.

I'm terribly apologetic, but I go to college, and there are plenty of sick people there :P

It's also possible that the crud I had 3-4 weeks ago was the swine flu, and that this is just the regular flu taking advantage of my weakened immune system. :P

That's what's being served up for brunch on Beacon Hill today.

I just made my husband nearly orgasmic. I offered to knit him a squid hat.

::shakes head::

Back at work after being sick for several days. I've definitely overdone it. And this client's constant pacing and talking to himself is driving me insane. Also, I am not a baby sitter.

Oh god. I just crawled out to go to work, after getting up and then going back to bed. I feel like I've been run over by a steamshovel, then scooped up and put into a cement mixer.

This is what I get for being social all weekend. *ded of teh krud*.

The Niffler is a British beast. They are fluffy, black, and long snouted.

They have a predilection for anything glittery and shiny, which makes them wonderful for locating anything metallic or shimmery, but they might bite if a person is wearing any jewellery, so BE CAREFUL.

Nifflers are often kept by goblins to burrow deep into the earth for treasure.

Though the niffler is gentle and affectionate, it can be destructive to belongings and should never be kept in a house. Or Headmaster's office. Ask Dolores Umbridge.

They live in lairs up to twenty feet below ground and produce six to eight young in a litter.

Researchers have published yet another study!

And in it, we're told these following items:

# Cites study that finds men view cars as extensions of themselves
# Professor: Men can compartmentalize thoughts, women assimilate many feelings
# Men tend to be more aggressive, says Einstein College of Medicine in New York City

Um. Yeah. Thanks.

Anyway. Had biology, chemistry, AND another stress test at the gym today.

Something had to give. It was the gym. I'm still going to exercise...but no more personal trainer. I feel sort of like a heel, but I over committed. AGAIN.

In other news, my husband has developed two girlfriends. O_o.

Oh yes, and a biology test AND a chemistry test on the same day makes the Captain anxious.

With instructor approval no less.