Tell us everything! Everything! Hit puree!
Friday, Apr. 20, 2007 @ 3:21 p.m.
I'm all riled up today and really too busy to be writing an entry but too scattered to concentrate on much else.
I've been busy though, super super busy with all manner of things, part of which is updating the Craft Mafia Blog which you should read even if you don't live here:
It's good stuff. My other blog project, the bike one, has suffered for it, but I haven't really been riding much because the weather didn't decide to stop sucking until today. Thanks, weather. It's going to be A #1 perfect for the race on Sunday, which I will not be participating in. This hasn't stopped me from peer-pressuring Kenny, however. I'm a bitch.
I've also been super touchy this week, physically and mentally. Some of it is out of stress - losing power early in the week, a big show to prepare for, various and sundry other tasks that all seem to need completing in the same millisecond. I'm happy to be busy and productive but I wish it wasn't all happening RAHNOW. I'm physically losing it in random ways - I have a weird little bump in my jaw (CANCER FOR SURE), a sore spot inside my mouth (CANCER), I'm itchy as all fuck (TAGS. I hate the ones they sew on the side seam because they seem to be made of plastic so even if you cut them out they still leave pointy little edges) and ready to strip down naked right here just to make the itching stop.
Yesterday I went to the dentist and, I swear, the hygienist is a freaking butcher. What the fuck is up with that lady? She's all SCRAPEYSCRAAAPEY with that hell tool and acts surprise if I wince when she hits gum. Lady, I can taste blood. so why don't you, oh, I don't know, STOP HURTING ME. Jesus H. Don't even get me started on how much the bitewing x-rays hurt. Can't someone invent some bitewings that don't have razor sharp edges? Just a suggestion.
Another reason I hate the hygienist: I mentioned to her that I kind of missed the spit bowl because I hate that suction tube thing - it's so gross and wrong. She looked at me like I was crazy and then totally mocked me for it.
"Only the old ladies miss the spit bowl and half the time they'd miss and spit on the floor!"
Ooohkay, crazy. Back it up, there.
Do y'all remember that torture dude on Alias, The Dentist? Yeah, all he would have to do is show me the scrapey tool and I'd talk like Chunk from The Goonies. I'd tell him EVERTHING. Immediately. I'd tell him about the time in sixth grade when I stole my sister's best tights and wore them to school. That afternoon I was walking along the brick edge of our front yard planter and I slipped and gouged my shin (still have the scar!) and totally destroyed those tights. Rather than confess, I balled them up and threw them out. Sorry, C.
Have I babbled enough to call this an entry? I guess so. I'll try and post an update next week and let y'all know how the show went. We had a great time last year, so I'm hoping it will be even better this time.