January 2008 – akaemi.com
 

Month: January 2008

I was surprised recently when I heard a song on the radio, and realized I liked it. 

I don’t like country music.  I generally don’t care for female artists – pink, gwen stefani and alanis are the sole ladies in my music collection.  (I promise, I’m not an angry person … I’m not even that moody…)  And I hate sentimental, sappy anything – especially in songs.

So imagine my surprise when my radio station (which is NOT a country station, I dunno why they sneak country songs in) was playing Taylor Swift’s Teardrops on My Guitar – and I liked it.  I usually change the station when it comes on, but I was in traffic that needed my attention, so I couldn’t safely get to the radio dial immediately.  And so I listened.  As I dodged a bus and thought something mean about the little man in the little mazda.  That got his driver’s license from a cracker jack box.

I haven’t figured out why I like it yet.  Maybe it’s because I bought the cd for b2 for Christmas.  Or maybe my angsty, edgy quota has been filled.  I haven’t tried singing along to it yet, but I suspect it might just be in my half-octave range – that could be part of its appeal.  Or perhaps the husband has finally worn me down on country.  Or it could be her fabulous sparkly eye shadow and face jewels.

Whatever the reason, congratulations Taylor Swift.  Toby Keith got me to think some of his songs were funny, but yours is the first country song that I actually … kinda … like.

bad sushi

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Ok, so I didn’t really have bad sushi – it was just bad leftovers.  I  will call it a ‘meat and potato pastry’ because the real name for it is often mistaken for stripper-wear.  I figured it’d still be safe, I made it on Sunday ….  And I did nuke it, though probably not quite to germ-killing levels.

It doesn’t take much to upset this stomach of mine – I’m like the canary for bad food.  I’ll be in the bathroom … well, in the bathroom … long before anybody else is aware of any badness. 

I once went with friends to Bennigan’s, and, yup, I was in the bathroom revisiting my dinner before we even left the restaurant.  Afterwards, during games back at my apartment, everybody else was moaning and laying on the floor.  I felt great!  Nothing bad in my system anymore!  While they were all finally feeling the effects of, what we suspected was, bad grease.  None of us had eaten the same thing at dinner, but we had all had something from the fryer – Monte Cristo (which to this day, I still can’t eat …), chicken fingers, french fries.

It was really bad timing, too, because I was supposed to go to a mock service tonight for a new restaurant!  They sure coulda used this canary stomach of mine …

I remember, as a teenager, having a discussion with a friend out eating kiwis.  She said you could eat the skin.  I maintained that you couldn’t – because, well, eating kiwi fuzz burned.  Even if it only touched your lips.  She looked at me like I was a freak, and that’s when it hit me:  perhaps I had a kiwi allergy.

But eating just the fruity insides was fine, I convinced myself.  Since it didn’t cause pain.

Having just had a root canal on the left side of my mouth, I had been eating mostly on the right side.  The other day at lunch, after eating a kiwi, I noticed a strange thing:  the right side of my mouth was … sort of … burning.  It wasn’t that bad, and it dawned on me how if my entire mouth was burning, I might not even notice.  Like probably every other time in my life that I’ve eaten a kiwi.

On the allergy severity scale, my kiwi allergy is extremely minor:  mild burning for 20 minutes after contact.  No hives, no need for an epi-pen to open up my airways.  Still, though, I think I might pass on kiwis from here on out, because now I will be distracted by the taste of burning.

Actual exchange between the husband and myself, after I came home from the spa:

The husband:  Did they do something to your face?  It looks … different.

Me:  Different how?  Good different or bad different?  Is it a different color??  Am I splotchy???

The husband:  No … it’s …. crisper … like when you make the jump from SD* to HD**.

Me:  Oh, thanks!  Maybe I’ll get facials more often …

*SD = Standard Definition – as in a regular tv signal

**HD = High Definition – as in a fancy new tv signal

spaaaaaaaaah day

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So, back in October, the husband got me a spa package for my birthday.  What with the holidays and life and everything, I wasn’t able to schedule it till today.  Never having gone to the spa except for the ever-so-practical hair removal (threading is the way to go for brows, ladies) and occasional pedicure, I wasn’t quite sure what to think of a completely induldgent spa visit.

It.  was.  wonderful.

Three hours of massage, body scrub and facial later, all I have to say is why have I never done it before?  And whoever invented the hot-towel-on-the-body technique was a geeeeenius.  Totally deserves a Nobel ahhhhhh Prize.  I am so getting one of those hot towel microwave things.

Now, I have to admit I was a little wary at first.  I read all about ‘what to expect at the spa’ online, so I knew there would be disrobing involved.  I got that I needed to be disrobed for a massage and body scrub, but for a facial?  Really, you need to not have pants on for a facial?  Isn’t that sort of the opposite side of the body from your face?

It wasn’t nearly as awkward as I had expected.  The masseuse and body scrubber were experts at keepin-the-bits-covered.  They had a multitude of towels at their disposal to flip and fold whichever way was necessary so as to keep those things we call ‘private’, well, private.

And it seems that a facial also includes a foot massage.  Hence the need for no pants.  As well as a shoulder and arm massage.  Hence the need for no top.  And tons of hot towels.  Aaahhhhhh.

And now I think it’s time for a nap.  Right after some chocolate-dipped strawberries …

Ok, so, yeah, while getting a root canal has made my top 10 list of things NEVER to do again, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared.  Of course, I haven’t exactly made it through the entire recovery, I’m sitting here hopped up on 600 milligrams of ibuprofen.  But – the fact that 600 mg of ibuprofen takes care of the pain – vs. the codeine goodness I got for my wisdom teeth – must mean it’s not that bad, right?

One of the worst things about it was holding my mouth open for an hour.  Even all numbed up, serious pain started in my jaw about half way through.  I thought for a second that my novocaine had warn off, then I realized the pain was in the joint near the tooth they were working on – not in the actual tooth.

The worst thing about it, though, is all the stuff they put in my mouth:  some kind of metal ring around my tooth, a rubber sheet with just a hole for my tooth, a bite guard, mr. suction, all kinds of dental implements, and the dentist’s hands.  I had no idea how much I hated having my mouth covered by a rubber sheet until this afternoon.  It was strangely suffocating, even though I had no trouble breathing through my nose.  I think I suffer from rubber-sheet-over-the-mouth-o-phobia.

So, here I sit with my shaken-baby headache (seriously, can they make a drill that doesn’t completely rattle your head??) and a temporary filling.  Oh, and 3 less tooth-nerves.  And a serious determination to never need another root canal.

‘dhl chantilly’ has become my most searched for google hit, so I feel that I should say that not everyone who goes there has such a terrible experience.  My boss went to pick up a package there a week after I did, and had no trouble.  Of course, he went at 3 – not 7 – so that might have had something to do with it …

I haven’t been to the dentist in a long time.  Years.  Three of ’em.  I knew it was a bad idea, but when you’re a grown-up, it’s hard to take care of little things like dentist appointments.  As a kid, I was in that office once or twice a year, and I couldn’t understand how my parents could possibly go 5 or 10 years between visits.  Well, now I get it.

So, at today’s appointment, I learned that I have 9 cavities.  One of which needs a root canal ($$$$) and a crown ($$$$).  Now, I know that I need that root canal, the doc isn’t trying to pull a fast one on me.  And how do I know?  Because …. I …. have a …. hole …. in my tooth.  A big one.  I can put my tongue in it.  And feel something soft.  That tastes … not very good.

Everybody kept asking if it hurt.  And seemed surprised when I sort of shrugged it off.  I mean, yeah, it hurts a little if I chew on that side of my mouth – so I just chew on the other side.  It’s not enough pain to take any drugs for it, though.  And I have to admit, I’m surprised it doesn’t hurt more – I mean, I’m missing 1/4 of the enamel on the tooth – and I don’t require medication?

So I called the root canal dentist to make an appointment – and he’s getting me in on Thursday!  I’ve never had such speedy dental service – I was expecting a month long wait.  He asked what I was doing to manage my pain, and I told him that I didn’t really have any.  I guess people who get root canals are usually people in great pain?

After the root canal, I have a crown and 8 fillings to look forward to.  I think, then, I might just have a filling in every single one of my teeth.  Guess it’s time to stop drinking sugar ….

one-way conversation

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An interesting thing has happened since I’ve started blogging:  nobody needs to talk to me anymore.  They already know what’s up with me; they’ve read my blog.  (The only person who this doesn’t hold true for is b3, who doesn’t read my blog, because, well, that would involve reading.  Oh, and b2, who is currently having trouble with the ladeez and somehow thinks I might have some insight for him …)

I didn’t notice at first, it’s been a slow decline.  And, well, I tend to shy away from actual contact with other human beings, so it wasn’t something that even registered on my radar.  But now that I’ve noticed, I do kind of wonder what’s going on with everyone else …

Another side-effect of blogging, is that now there are people who know me, and I don’t know them.  Neighbors, work colleagues, church acquaintances.  My blog is my heart and soul, right there on the internet for anyone to see.  Not that I mind; I mean, I’m the one who puts it all out there.  But – it means that, for the mere price of a few minutes invested in reading my silly little thoughts, a person can really get a glimpse into all of my crazies.  And they don’t have to share any crazies back.  All of y’all have something on me – and I got nothin’ on you.

So – if you feel so inclined – please do let me know where your blogs reside.  I’d like to know what’s going on with you!  And well, I mean, an actual conversation, in person, is just a little too much … (Oh, and for the husband’s friends, I think I’ve already got you all on my google reader.)

The husband and I caught part of X-Men 3 on tv this weekend, and I was surprised to recognize some of the mutants.  Before they were Juno, Maya, and McSteamy, they were Shadowcat, Callisto, and Multiple Man.  (And I have to say, good call on the beard, McSteamy.) 

I’m sure there were more recognizable mutants in the mix – X-Men 3 pulls out all the stops, there’s a billion characters in the movie – but we didn’t watch the whole thing.  I’ll have to keep my eyes open next time I watch it!

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