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Friday, June 4, 2004

You Can Stick That In Your Pocket.

The other week when I saw one of these pocket bikes racing down Valencia street, I thought it was funny and kind of cute.

At 8AM, woken from my Codeine dreams by the porters from the car dealership next door buzzing back and forth along the alley behind my apartment like they're racing in the Mosquito 500, "cute" is not the first word that came to mind. I think it was "car accident," to be specific.

I'm not in much discomfort today, actually, since the extraction went really well. After only a few minutes of work and not a lot of pulling, the dentist announced that she was done. "It's a boy!" joked the hygenist. I'm sure it was the n-Hundredth time she'd told that joke. I gave her a courtesy laugh when she repeated it, so that she wouldn't have to repeat it again.

I opened my eyes and said, "Really? That's it?" (OK, technically what I said was "Weeee-ee? Daaath-ii?" but you get the idea.) They let me get up and make my follow-up appointment, and I was feeling pretty good, frankly. I thought about taking MUNI home, but from the look of horror the woman at the pharmacy gave me, I realized that the swelling and gauze made me look like a demented chipmunk. I pointed to my distended cheek and slurred, "It's a boy," but she didn't laugh. Sure got my prescription in a hurry, though.

A day later and I think things are healing nicely. I have a little energy for some simple chores today, but mostly I intend to take things easy. For instance, I'll only throw light objects at the scooter races outside my window.

01:13 PM PST (link)

Wednesday, June 2, 2004

Yank? Psych!

OK, even with the teary-eyed train ride over there and the trembling while actually in the chair (yes, I'm a big scaredy-kat at the dentist,) it was all for naught; they're pulling the tooth tomorrow instead. One more night for crunchy snacks or gooey treats. Of course, I'm really craving that chocolate pudding I bought yesterday. The grass on the other side and all that.

Today's visit was mostly for them to do a thorough examination of my insurance, which they poked and prodded and asked if it hurt. It's pretty good coverage as long as you don't actually need any treatment. And do I need treatment...Jeez, my teeth are a mess. You're kind for not mentioning it all this time. Well, this is what I get for not taking care of them. Don't be a Yuck Mouth, kids, whatever color the grass is on your side.

01:34 PM PST (link)

Soups, Juices, Yogurt, Pudding, Poison Gas.

Some tortures are physical
And some are mental,
But the one that is both
Is dental.
--Ogden Nash

Apparantly it's one of the more common nightmares that people have. In fact, it was recently a Research Day topic But if it's never happened to you in real life, spitting out gritty pieces of broken tooth is a rather unforgettable feeling. I have a feeling my wisdom tooth will be be getting intimate with a pair of pliers at the dentist this morning.

(No, I did not break the tooth while blowing poison gas at the Baron Harkonnen. Not that I remember, anyway.)

I'm actually not so much nervous as a bit relieved; finally they'll be taking out the last one of the four. In some ways I wish they'd have taken them all out at once, rather than one at a time over the years. I think it's because they're in the employ of the Instant Mashed Potato and Applesauce lobbies.

I feel it is my duty to stop the rumors, however, that Pocky G was in any way involved in this incident.

I doubt champagne bubbles will be good for the open wound. So if we close on the house today, I'll have to toast the occasion with another ~~Percoset~~ ~~Percodan~~ ~~Darvoset~~ ~~Tylenol~~ squirt of Orajel. (Do I know how to party or what? Next stop, Conservative talk radio...)

Loves conquers all things except poverty and toothache.
--Mae West

02:10 AM PST (link)