May 30, 2005

I could just cry.

Friday I took a Myers-Briggs personality test that the therapist gave me, and ended up with an ISTP [introverted-sensing-thinking-perceiving]. This morning, I took another one I found online and got INFJ [introverted-intuitive-feeling-judging], which is almost the exact opposite except for the introversion. Another, much longer, M-B that I took several months ago placed me squarely in I [introversion] but put me so close to the middle in the other three dimensions that I don't even remember what I ended up with, just that I was right on the fence.

Apparently my personality shifts back and forth all the time, and the only thing that stays constant is that I can't stand large numbers of people. No wonder people avoid me. They can't figure out who the fuck I am. Apparently, neither can a test.

And neither can I.

Are there any half-decent jobs that don't involve being around people? Lab technician, maybe? Maybe I can get an AAS in lab technician...I'm really starting to get cold feet about working in a pharmacy. I really don't think I'd last long. I can't mask my emotions very well, and people would be put off by the fact that I'm irritated a lot of the time.

I'm so fucking lost I don't even believe it. I have no idea where to go from here.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 07:42 AM

May 27, 2005

ah, a silver lining.

Finally, a bright spot in this, The Week Of Shit:

Went to renew my driver's license today after my counselor's appointment, and I realised I'd left my glasses in the car. The lady said to try my vision test without them, and I said, "all right, but I really doubt I'll pass." I passed. So now I only have to wear glasses when I want to. I'll still wear them til I get my new card; and I'll probably still wear them when driving in unfamiliar areas where I need to read signs very far away; but I don't have to hunt for them every time I want to go to Faribault or Waseca. And if I forget them and get pulled over, I won't get a ticket.

Other than that, the week pretty much blew.


same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 11:44 AM

May 25, 2005

Way-behind Weird Ones.

I realised I haven't done this meme since late March, so I figured I'd catch up on it today. So here it is.

25 May

1. Besides candy what else would be good to put in a pinata?
Squibs, cheese cubes, spiders, applesauce…the possibilities are endless.

2. If there was a product called Jellophane what would it do? What would be its pluses and minuses?
It would be an edible, transparent wrapping material for food and leftovers. Pluses: delicious with fruit and Cool Whip; available in sugar-free. Minuses: doesn't do well in the oven; only sticks to itself.

3. There is a saying that 'Hope springs eternal. What does charity spring?
Phone solicitors.

4. What is the best thing to come from Asia. How about Europe? now what about North America, South America, Australia, and Africa.
Asia--shrimp egg rolls. Europe--gouda cheese. North America--MTV [back when it still had music]. South America--um…you mean something leaves South America? hm. How about tin? Australia--AC/DC. Africa--civilisation.

5. Why do kids always seem to get scrapes on their knees, but not on their backs?
They do, but only around Michael Jackson.

18 May

1. We all know that there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, but what is at the beginning of the rainbow?
A crock of shit.

2. If you had a fan club, what sorts of activities would they have?
They'd be fanning each other all the time, of course.

3. Now that there is yellow ketchup, how long do you think it will be before there is red mustard? Is this what progress looks like? Why or why not?
No, this is what technology-induced ennui looks like. It's related to progress, but it's not.

4. When someone is described as "not looking a day over 50", how old do they look?
They look as if today is their fiftieth birthday.

5. Why aren't eels used to papier mache?
They've always used plaster of Paris.

11 May

1. What would happen if you bit a vampire bat?
It would turn into a human. Also, you'd probably get rabies.

2. Should there be mandatory trigger locks on staple guns? Why or why not?
No, because responsible citizens need to be able to defend themselves against loose fabric at a moment's notice.

3. Why are most circles round?
International standards.

4. Besides an aversion to circuses, how can you tell if someone has a fear of clowns?
Dress up like a clown, hide behind something and jump out at them.

5. How has the fame changed you?
It hasn't changed me at all, but everybody else is different somehow.

4 May

1. They say life is a dance. What sort of dance is it? For extra credit you can also tell me how exactly life is like a box of chocolates.
It's the watusi. And life is like a box of chocolates in that no matter how you study the chart on the inside of the lid, half the time you still end up with one of those cruddy white-crème-filled things that nobody wants.

2. Why does my bookbag smell like cinnamon?
Because you put cinnamon in it. I saw you.

3. Why don't chairs have five legs?
The first one did, but it was in an accident and had to have one amputated. After that, furniture-makers, when referring to this chair in order to make other chairs, just thought that it was supposed to have four.

4. Why do some cars have bumper stickers on them which say
Say what?

5. Car-dancing to what song leads to the most traffic fatalities?
If there were any justice in the world, it would be either "Macarena" or "Beer Barrel Polka." However, there's not, so it's actually Radiohead's "Fake Plastic Trees."

27 April

1. Where does the darkness go when the Sun goes up?
It goes to Denny's for the breakfast special.

2. Why did the empire strike back?
The other empire hit it first.

3. Why don't zoo animals unionize? Why don't robots?
They don't have pockets to carry their union cards in.

4. Are you happy now?
Do I look happy?

5. What did I do to deserve this?
You ate the last of the ice cream, you bastard.

20 April

1. How long is the Ruler of the Universe?
That sounds dirty. Really, really frickin' long. Like, super long. Like you wouldn't be even able to imagine it if I told you. Seriously. It's totally really long.

2. How was cream cheese invented?
A guy ran out of deviled ham for his crackers and didn't want to go to the trouble of slicing cheese [he also didn't want to be accused of cutting the cheese]; so he came up with deviled cheese. It also solved the problems he was having trying to make cheesecake from pepperjack cheese.

3. If you were sending a letter to Israel, would you write the address and zip code in English or Hebrew? Why?
I would write it in both, just in case.

4. Why don't headphones just go over 1 ear and not both? What is really gained by filling the other ear with music as well? It all ends up in the brain in the end.
It keeps you from hearing your mom when she's trying to talk to you.

5. Who let the cat out of the bag? Who put the cat in the bag in the first place? Why'd they do that?
It wasn't me. I wasn't there, I didn't see anything. I don't know anything about it.

13 April

1. What kind of parents would name their son Mortimer and what were they hoping he'd become?
They were undertakers and were hoping their son would follow in their footsteps.

2. Is Donald Rumsfeld just a "pretty boy"?
In the same sense that Bob Dole is a stud, yes.

3. How did Ibid find all the time to write all those pieces while I can barely find time to do a two page essay?
He's on disability for a bad back.

4. Why is it that when you're driving and looking for an address, you turn down the volume on the radio?
Same reason libraries are supposed to be quiet [though they never are anymore]. Your reader thingie won't work at the same time as your hearer thingie.

5. What was the 4th best year of your life and why?
The first. True, I couldn't walk or talk, but I never had to get up to go to the bathroom or make myself something to eat.

6. Sorry for the inquisition. Ok, it's your turn, now you ask a question.
What the hell is this thing sticking out of my gum where they took my tooth out? Please tell me it's part of a stitch.

6 April

1. What is so darn Canadian about Canadian Doubles? How about Canadian bacon? What about Canadian Geese?
All of them, including the pigs from which Canadian bacon is made, eat poutine.

2. Why do fish have scales?
So they can weigh themselves, of course.

3. What is gym class like in magic school?
Very dangerous, I'd imagine.

4. Who came up with the word 'potpourri'?
Craft-store people. It wasn't selling when they called it "dried-up dead flowers in a bowl."

5. If you had a pet snail, what would you name it, what would you feed it, what would you play with it, and where would you keep it?
I would name it Ulysses Samuel Percy Snail, or USPS for short. I'd feed it lettuce, I'd play Pictionary with it, and I'd keep it out of my crisper drawer.

30 March

1. If you were in a small town jail and had to escape to save a life how would you go about doing so.
I'd offer to screw the guard, then when he opened the door, I'd cave his nads in with my knee and run like hell.

2. Where do trinkets come from?
They come from a small European country called Trinketsia, population 15 296. It's right next to Gewgawnia and Cheapcrapsia.

3. How many politicians does it take to change a light bulb?
All of them that bother to show up to vote. They'll vote on whether to change it, not get a sufficient majority, and table it til the next session.

4. How many piano tuners are in the world? How do you know? How many chimney sweepers are there?
Piano tuners--4835. I guessed. Chimney sweepers--285. Most of them are under contract with Santa Claus for seasonal work.

5. How do they make Reeses Peanut Butter Cups?
I can't tell you. Homeland security issues, you understand.

23 March

1. Some bakeries sell the saucer like tops of muffins rather than selling the entire muffin. What would be a good name and slogan for these muffin tops?
"Muffin Lids: Because We Burned The Rest Of The Muffin, So We Had To Cut It Off!"

2. Why are tennis balls usually yellow and basketballs orange?
Because if tennis balls were purple and basketballs were green, people would think they were plums and watermelons, and you'd have a lot of folks in the emergency room.

3. You bid 4 no trump asking your partner for aces. What does she bid if she has all four aces? What if she has no aces and the two of you aren't even playing cards?

4. You are waiting in an airport and have a couple hours before your flight. How do you entertain yourself? How would your answer change if you had a trained rat, 3 spatulas, a pair of scissors, a slice of gouda, and slinky with you?
For the first question, I'd do a couple crossword puzzles. For the second, I'd see how long it took for security to take me aside for questioning.

5. How come some cereals stay crunchy in milk and others don't? Which of these groups is better?
The ones that stay crunchy are varnished. Which is better depends on whether you prefer eating mush or eating varnish.

16 March

1. What was the best thing before sliced bread?
Non-moldy bread.

2. How does the sense of smell work?
Pretty well, thanks.

3. If you had to spend $100 in 5 minutes, what would you buy?

4. Why answer weird questions when you can answer normal questions?
Why answer normal questions when you can answer weird questions?

5. When you pull out a Kleenex, the next Kleenex pops up. How's it know to do that?
Jesus does it.

9 March

1. Why are there bomb sniffing dogs and not bomb sniffing gerbils? Those little guys could go everywhere and sniff everyone.
They couldn't teach them to point.

2. What happens if you put the "This side up" side face down while popping microwave popcorn? Also what is the difference between regular popcorn and microwave popcorn?
It pops backwards. Regular popcorn grows on ears; microwave popcorn grows in flat bags that say "this side up."

3. If you had a metal plate in your head, would it rust? Why or why not? And if you said that it would rust, would the rust be a problem?
No, it wouldn't, because I'd make sure they sprayed it with Rust-Oleum.

4. Who came up with the shape of pretzels? How did they do so?
A guy who was trying to use dough to demonstrate how to do yoga.

5. If not me then who? If not now then when? While were at it ... if I am not for myself, then who will be for me? And if I am only for myself, what am I?
If not you, then probably the guy next door. If not now, then probably Saturday. If you're not for yourself, the ACLU will be for you if you kick up enough of a stink. And if you're only for yourself, you're a damn narcissist.

Whew, that was long.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 09:25 AM

May 24, 2005

I have an assignment for you, gentle reader.

A Mr. William Omenka wrote to me claiming he has $16M he wants to wire me. He's so excited about it, he wrote the e-mail in all caps. He says, "NOTE PROPERLY THAT I NEED SOMEONE WHO WILL NOT STAND ON THIS OPPORTUNITY TO SIT ON THE MONEY. BASED ON PERCENTAGE RATE, I HAVE AGREED TO OFFER YOU 40% OF THE TOTAL SUM AFTER THE SMOOTH EXECUTION OF THIS MUTUAL TRANSACTION." Indeed. I have noted this properly.

Now, the lovely thing about 419 scammers is that they generally give you valid contact information, because they want you to get back in touch with them and give them your bank account number.

This is Mr. Omenka's contact information.

TEL:+228 913 20 82.

It certainly sounds like he's lonely and needs somebody to talk to, if he's giving out all that personal contact info. Why don't you drop him a line and tell him exactly what you think of 419 scammers? I'd play with him, but I really don't have the time this week. You can, if you want.

I already forwarded his e-mail to the Federal Trade Commission's e-mail fraud department. Now it's your turn. Have a lovely Tuesday, reader. I'm going to go have my coffee and wake up.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 07:40 PM


ever have one of those days where it feels like nearly everything in your life is stale, rotten, broken or otherwise defective?

if so, ever get sick of the platitude "hope you feel better" as though having a bad mood was some kind of illness? as though non-happy moods and negative feelings were some kind of mental disease instead of just part of the normal range of human emotion?

Next person who asks me if I "feel better" after I've been in a shitty mood will get their face ripped off and shoved up their ass. It's an emotion, you simpering twatpaddler, not the flu. Fuck off.

Just needed to say that. Might need to say it again after a while.

I also have a painting that I'm about to call done, if for no other reason than that I can't stand to work on it anymore and would like to wash my hands of it. It's more like what I would have done 5 years ago than what I feel I should be doing now. Either that or I still have the same baggage I did then, which would be supremely depressing.

I'm so goddamn tired.

same whatever...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 07:46 AM

May 22, 2005

Holy Avian Acephaly, Batman!

I had heard the headless chicken story from somebody in a chatroom several weeks back. Then yesterday I came across a 2002 Farmer's Almanac that had a story about it, so I did a Google search. Apparently this really happened, and there is a website about it.

Lloyd knew his Mother in Law would be dining with them and would savor the neck. He positioned his ax precisely, estimating just the right tolerances, to leave a generous neck bone. "


When Olsen found Mike the next morning, sleeping with his "head" under his wing, he decided that if Mike had that much will to live, he would figure out a way to feed and water him. With an eyedropper Mike was given grain and water.


It was determined that ax blade had missed the jugular vein and a clot had prevented Mike from bleeding to death. Although most of his head was in a jar, most of his brain stem and one ear was left on his body. Since most of a chicken's reflex actions are controlled by the brain stem Mike was able to remain quite healthy.

In the 18 MONTHS that Mike lived as "The Headless Wonder Chicken" he grew from a mere 2 1/2 lbs. to nearly 8 lbs.

This is precisely why I have no moral qualms about eating chicken. If it doesn't know when it's dead, I highly doubt it ever knew it was alive. As I've mentioned before, I've participated in raising chickens, and they literally are so stupid that they might as well not have heads.

Anyway, if you're not queasy by now, you can join Mike's Fan Club, which has a joke section and a message board. I will refrain from any speculation about what kind of person would address the message "your my hero" to a headless chicken, or what the mere existence of this post says about humanity. I'm just going to log off and go have that leftover chicken in the fridge... those hardboiled not...

hm. Macaroni and cheese?

Maybe I'll just sit in a corner and regurgitate.

There has to be a Bush joke in here somewhere, but I'm a little too nauseated to look for it just now.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 10:17 AM

notice to all Ringo users

No, I do not want to be in your Ringo address book. Why? Because if you're using Ringo, one or more of the following probably applies to you:

a] You're too stupid or too lazy to coordinate your own address books, even though it would be a great idea to go through them because you probably don't even talk to 1/3 to 1/2 of the people in them anymore anyway.

b] You're unaware--or don't care--that Ringo contacts everybody in your Yahoo address book. When you add somebody to your Y!Messenger friends list, they stay in your addy book even after you take them off your friends list, unless you check the "remove from address book" option or remove them manually. When's the last time you looked at the address book tab on your Y!Messenger window? I thought so. I haven't signed on to Ringo, so I don't know exactly how it works, but I'm guessing it imports your other address books and consolidates them all. If you still have people on your address book that you haven't IM'd in five years, you're going to be annoying one holy fuck of a lot of people when you send your update invites out. One of them might be me, and if so, you will get a not-very-nice e-mail back from me.

c] You're unaware--or don't care--that no matter how much Ringo swears on a stack that it's private, sooner or later some hacker will get into the database and have access to everybody's contact info because you thought it would be spiffy to keep everybody's e-mail and phone number on a server [which contains tons of different people's data--a hacker's or spammer's gold mine] instead of your hard drive [which would yield them only a few names and addresses]. Thanks, fucknut.

If you disagree with this and think Ringo's great, I don't care. If you work for Ringo, I don't wanna hear it--I'll stop complaining when I stop getting notifications from your users. I just want these idiotic "Help me update my address book!" e-mails to STOP. Just cut it out. Go to the stationery section of Mallwart and buy a goddamn address book. I'm sure they have some nice ones with kitties or Orange County Choppers™ or Spider-Man®™ on the cover. What's more, it will never get erased or hacked. You can even write everything in pencil in case somebody moves or changes their e-mail address. Or you can go down the aisle and pick up some Liquid Paper®©™ß£¿. Besides, how many of the people in your online addy book have you talked to in the past year; and of the ones you haven't, how many remember who you are? I know I don't. I sorta don't care either.

Bottom line, the only Ringo I want to hear about is the English dude with the big nose who used to play drums for the Beatles. If this shit keeps up--and it might, because I tried to use their "opt out of receiving any more e-mail from us" and I STILL got notifications--I'll just slap a filter on my inbox. So if you want to write to me about Mr. Starr [Sir Starr? did they knight him?], you're gonna want to spell it R1ng0 or something to prevent it getting deleted. I'm not going to squander any more of my scant reserves of patience on this horseshit.

Thank you and have a stupendous Sunday.

Oh, and I had a lovely walk this morning. Tad short, but last night I'd been to a party with far more smoke than I'm used to, so I didn't want a bunch of tree pollen on top of that. My sinuses still hurt; I'm hoping my ears stay clear so I can drive over and see Orlando Bloom wear armour and hack people up with a sword, while that's still playing. Think I'll save Star Wars™™®©®®±§¢ for next weekend.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Webtoon for the day: Retarded Animal Babies 13: Revenge of the Shit. [This is where I stole the trademark idea used above.] Rated NSFW [not safe for work--unless you work where I work. And then only at night. In this context, it can also mean N00b Starwars Fans Won'tgetit.]

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:51 AM


I have a lot to say, but this is the wrong place to say it.

I just wanna fucking cry.

Cram the sympathy.


Posted by Frida Peeple at 02:15 AM

May 21, 2005

shitty product alert

Bienfang Watercolour Paper. Why does it suck? Well, it's like this:

~If you soak it in order to stretch it, you lose the ability to have crisp edges. Washes will bleed into other areas of the painting even when the paper is completely dry. This should NEVER EVER HAPPEN with watercolour paper.

~Every kind of tape I have ever tried with this--even drafting tape that is specially designed NOT to rip the paper when removing--rips the living shit out of this paper. No, it does not help to peel it back more gently, or at different angles, or to start in a particular area of the tape. I had thought it was the tape, but drafting tape designed for thin paper should never pull the top layer off a sheet of watercolour paper.

~It is 140-lb, which I'm only using because I'm almost out of my 300-lb and do not have the funds to drop $7 a sheet or $140 a block for paper when I have credit card bills and upcoming increasing student loans.

So, for that, Bienfang, you suck. I'm doubly disappointed because your other papers aren't that bad. But either make better watercolour paper or stop making it at all, because this stuff is horseshit.

Brought to you by the Bitch Council and the Coalition to End the Sale and Production of Shitty Art Materials.

Also, folks...either fix your fucking muffler or walk.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 03:04 PM

May 20, 2005

shameless consumerism

Purchased Friday:

Long rubber gloves
Low-cut scoopneck tees
Drafting tape
Propane torch
Penis-shaped ice cube/candy mold

That's a shopping trip.

Think I might go make some art now. I feel inspired. Either that or it's the allergy meds.


Posted by Frida Peeple at 11:02 PM

May 16, 2005

How To Lose Friends And Alienate People

Just go on Yahoo and act like me. It works like a charm, I've gotten like one IM in 3 days. Either nobody logs on anymore, or they have their stealth settings set to dodge me. Either way, I don't guess I could blame them.

In other news, I got my CPR and EAD [defibrillator] training certification today. It's good for two years; after that, I have to take a refresher course to keep my certification.

Went to town yesterday and saw Hitchhiker's Guide. It do I say it? It was worth a $4 matinee price, I'll say that; the special effects were neat, and the characterizations weren't bad. One of the main things that bothered me was the way they straddled the line between easily accessible humour and humour that is really only accessible in the book version. One example would be the towels. In the book, you get a detailed explanation of why an intergalactic hitchhiker must have a towel. In the film, you're lost--all you see is an alien insisting, obsessively, on people having towels, and on using one as a weapon; and the effect is less what Adams seems to have originally intended and more like an unbalanced person with a white-goods obsession. Also, the movie is rated PG, so I saw some parents with kids there. I think they were under the mistaken impression that it was a kids' movie. It wasn't, but not for the usual reasons: Adams' satire is very adult--not in the sense of being racy, but in the sense of being complicated, and of dealing with issues children don't tend to be able to relate to well. Trying to explain a Douglas Adams book without confusing the listener is tough enough; I can imagine that trying to convert one to film without confusing the viewer must have been a stone bitch. Considering the movie ran almost two hours, trying to do justice to the book might have ended up producing a bloated, Adams-fans-only Dune-like monstrosity. I'm not sure they could have done a better job, but it would have been nice.

The afternoon was made stranger by the fact that the theater scheduled three showings of a 1:55 movie 2 hours apart from each other, meaning that if you came in on time, you saw the credits from the previous showing. The girl working there had to shoo everybody out so she could clean, and one fellow got irate and asked for his money back. I pointed out that she probably gets in trouble if she doesn't clean, and that it's not her fault the way the theater schedules the showings. I don't know if anybody listened to me.

Then about halfway through, the soda got to me, and I went in the bathroom. Somebody was in the other stall, and I waited for her to split, because I really have problems going with people around. Now, I've done this before, and I know how long it takes to pee, and how long to wash your hands, and how many paper towels a person needs. I also know that when you have to pee and you're waiting, it seems like it takes longer. Even taking that into account, I swear on Granny's grave that this lady took 3 times the amount of time to get out of the stall, 3 times the amount of time to wash, and at least twice the number of paper towels as normal. I could also hear her wiping up the floor with the paper towels. So I don't know if it was somebody crying and washing their face, or somebody who was really goddamn slow, or what, but I missed most of Trillian's trial. grrr. [It wasn't a handicapped person, because she wasn't in the handicapped stall. I always take that one because it's farthest away and I don't like people walking past me and catching a glimpse in. Bathrooms with gaps between the doors are absolutely nothing but fucking CREEPY, and why a civilised society still allows them is beyond me.]

Okay, I'm done yammering.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 01:22 PM | Comments (0)

May 13, 2005

quote for the week

"Chronic pain is not like any other malady. It is consistent. It is laborious. It is constant. It doesn't leave you alone. It is the No. 1 reason that we have suicides in this country today."
--Jerry Lewis, discussing the chronic pain that led to his Percodan addiction

Truer words were seldom spoken.


Posted by Frida Peeple at 12:56 PM

May 09, 2005

this made me giggle.

It's about those goddamn magnetic yellow ribbons. If my printer worked, I'd tape it up in my car window and see how long it took for somebody to key my doors. [Alternative project: Print off several dozen copies, go to the Mallwart parking lot, and stick one under the wiper blade of every magnetic-ribbon-bearing vehicle. Wear a ski mask, because they have cameras.]

Link via EBC.


Posted by Frida Peeple at 01:53 AM

May 08, 2005

oh dear.

I think my sex drive is gradually returning--not to the level it used to be, but something approaching that. What this means, whether it's a good thing, and what I'm going to do about it, I don't know. I just know it's making everything more complicated, which is annoying. Fortunately, I'm armed with a much greater mastery of my reasoning faculties than I had before, so if I'm careful, it won't cause too many problems.

Or maybe it's not returning, and it's just been so goddamn long since I've been remotely interested in anybody that I've forgotten what that's like. But I'm more interested than I've been in a while, although not in sex in general, just in a specific person.

I don't think it matters anyway, because I get the feeling I'm not his type. That's sorta how it goes, though; the people I like are never attracted to me, and the people that are attracted to me [that actually come out and say that they are] are usually people I can't stand--not because I don't want them to get close, but because they're almost invariably annoying, puerile twerps. I guess everybody likes to date upwards.



Posted by Frida Peeple at 04:36 PM

May 06, 2005

Neil Diamond Is The Heart Of Darkness

Okay, he's not. But you have to admit, that's a much better title than "My Week With Wisdom Tooth Extraction" or whatever lame-o shit would have actually gone with the topic.

So last Friday I had all four wisdom teeth taken out. I'd decided against general anaesthesia, because I'm always convinced I'm never going to wake up again. Then I found out it was covered by my insurance, thought a little harder about the prospect of being awake while they yanked my four back teeth out of my skull, and decided [using my own inimitable brand of logic] that even the possibility of death wasn't so bad when covered 80%.

My logic turned out to be right; all four teeth had to be cut either partially or completely out of the bone, so even had they given me enough gas and novocaine for the entire 1st Airborne Division, I would no doubt have been screaming for oblivion inside of ten minutes. [I know I was when the novocaine wore off.] I didn't know how badly the teeth were impacted until I saw the X-ray. They were coming in at 45-degree angles like sloppily merging traffic, poking half in and half out of bone and gum like those nasty half-sticking-out stones that you trip over. I had thought they'd just grown halfway in and stopped, and the surgeon would just pull them out and be done. After seeing the X-ray, I was happy to take whatever they were willing to give me to make sure I had no goddamn idea in the world what was going on. I remember the gas, the IV, the sound of the nurses, and the next thing I knew I was being moved to recovery.

So they sent me home with a quart of Haagen-Dazs chocolate, and I fell asleep in the back seat of the van with rapidly bloodying gauze stuffed in my mouth and Guero in my Discman. The novocaine was wearing off as we got home, and by the time Mom got out of the drugstore with the Vicodin, I needed it bad.

Well, there's only one problem with Vicodin. They make it with hydrocodone and acetominophen. What's the problem with that? Well, for starters, ACETOMINOPHEN IS TOTAL FUCKING SHIT.* Acetominophen does not kill pain. It does not even waltz by and flip the pain off. It sits in my stomach, leafs through a magazine and occasionally beats its meat. It does NOTHING USEFUL, much like your average landlord.

So I couldn't talk because of the pain, so I had Mom get me a notebook and a pencil. I swore for two full single-spaced pages before I settled down. [Scans to follow later, maybe.] For those of you who've never had a tooth pulled, much less four, and had to deal with the's like having the worst period of your life through your face. That's the only way I can think of to describe it. If I could have fit a pair of folded-over Stayfree in the back of my mouth, I would have. [Maybe I did; it sure felt that way.]

If I'd known about the existence of Vicoprofen [Vicodin with ibuprofen instead of acetominophen], I'd have asked for that and saved myself some trouble. But I didn't, so it took a call to the clinic, which was closed, and a call back from the doctor to confirm that yes, I could take Advil with Vicodin. So I did. Copiously. I took them together until the Vicodin ran out, and then took the Advil until my stomach couldn't take it anymore. Then I stopped taking it, and had the joyful experience of anti-inflammatory rebound.

What made it more fun was that they gave me penicillin to prevent infection. This is fine, except that I'm on Depo. [Females, and a few males, you know where I'm going with this.] Yes. Depo is a hormonal contraceptive. Penicillin is an antibiotic. And what do antibiotics do to hormonal contraceptives? Everybody say it together...

THEY MAKE THEM FUCKING QUIT! Right! Isn't that fantastic? So if you were relying on your Depo or your pill for birth control, wear a rubber...and if you were relying on it for PMS control, well, break out the Hershey's and the Klonopin, 'cause you're in for a looooong ten days. [Or however long it stays crapped out. The shot doesn't seem to recover entirely from antibiotic interference.]

So to recap:
~Severe mouth pain which is only moderately and intermittently relieved
~Headaches resulting from stress caused by constant mouth pain
~Lack of sleep, resulting in decreased tolerance to pain
~Abstinence from taking Topamax while taking Vicodin because they're both CNS depressants, and anything that makes me loopy by itself makes me VERY uncomfortable mixed with Topamax
~Eye-crossing cramps [the kind that go halfway up your back and give you diarrhea]
~PMS fit to make Pinhead from Hellraiser shit his leather dress

So, um, I sorta alienated pretty much everybody I know on Yahoo, and flung a tape gun [not at anybody, although dude seemed to think so...sorry dude], and got mad and thwacked myself in the arm with the tape gun, and had a 20-minute crying jag at work, and prayed for an end to my torment, deformity, abomination and exploitation in death. Which is pretty much what I used to go through every month; I'm just not used to it anymore, so it rattled me.

And all this time, the lower left socket never healed totally. I kept worrying about a dry socket, but it never happened. The other ones kept getting better, but that one never really stopped clotting; it still feels like it has a goober in it. Today I could feel, in addition to the pain, something strange and sharp, so I went to my folks' house and had them look in my mouth with the flashlight. There was something white and pointy sticking out of the socket, so I called the clinic and they let me come in so they could remove it. We'd thought it was a bone fragment, but it turned out it was a piece of the "dissolving" stitch that had been knotted and hadn't dissolved all the way. She took it out free of charge, and free of anaesthesia [fine with me] and sent me home with some bendy syringes to lavage my lower two sockets and keep them cleaner.

I've had some terrible pains and some terrible periods in my life, but I really can't remember when I've had this much pain in seven days. I'm surprised I didn't get a citation at work. I'm surprised I didn't quit my job, slash my wrists or strangle somebody. I honestly am. My nerves have just come completely unravelled. Not even frayed. Totally unravelled.

I'm gonna go take some aspirin and a B-complex vitamin, and eat some ice cream, and snuggle up with my stuffed Garfield and my stuffed skunkie. I have so fucking had enough this week. Good night.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...
*I realise that for some people, it works just fine. I'm very happy for you. For the rest of us, however, it is the biggest waste of childproof caps and cellulose binder in history.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 03:59 PM

May 05, 2005

Fun With Numbers

Something I noticed while looking at the big calendar hanging in my work area:

Today is 5/5/05.

It's also day #125 of the calendar year.

5 x 5 x 5 = 125.

So either today is a really significant day, or sometimes calendars just do neat things.

[If you follow numerology, and your birthpath or other significant number is 5, do something special for yourself today. If not...hell, do something special for yourself anyway. Preferably at 5.05.]


Added later:

I got it! It's Pentagram Day!

Happy Pentagram Day

It's even threefold and everything! ~does a happy pentagram math-nerd dance~

Posted by Frida Peeple at 11:39 AM

May 03, 2005

Entry Titles Are For Dillholes

Not that anybody gives a fuck anymore, but.

I think my one tooth socket is getting infected.

My brother thinks he's a fucking Sith or something out of Star Wars. He's abusive when he doesn't get what he wants, and sweet as strawberry pie when he does. My mom's a sucker for still talking to him at all.

People who say they're your friends usually aren't.

I'm glad nobody can comment on this. It'd be nice if the comments weren't totally broken, but I really don't want to know what a bunch of strangers thinks about my life. I need a friend to talk to, and nobody's around. Nobody's around when I'm awake. It's like I'm the only fucking person on earth that's up at this time of day, besides a big gaggle of chatroom people who aren't gonna listen anyway because they're just there to chat about something fun and don't care.

I don't wanna hear it.


Posted by Frida Peeple at 03:32 AM | Comments (0)