Kittyteef by Kittyteef
A self portrait?
All dilated up and nowhere to go
I saw the eye doctor today for my yearly-oh-it’s-been-two-years-already? check-up. And now I am a danger to myself and others. Ye olde dilatione has rendered me useless. So now I sit here at work, desperately wishing I could read something. I don’t travel anywhere without a book for fear I will be stuck somewhere for hours and have nothing to read. In fact, when Miranda’s parents were in town I had to remind myself we were going to dinner and a play and odds were good that I wouldn’t have a moment to spare, and to slowly. put. the. book. down. slowly. slowly now. ok then. Much to my surprise, this opthamologist totally anticipated this urge to read with sight impaired, whether induced or natural, and had large print magazines waiting for us. I took a trip down memory lane to my grandmother’s house, and grabbed the latest copy of Reader’s Digest, and proceeded to remember all the things I loved/hated about it then. As its title suggests, the content is made up of sugary sweet, severely simplified nuggets that are easily digestible by one and all. And of course that what makes it utterly enjoyable. Laughter is the Best Medicine? Not funny in the least but not painful. It Pays To Enrich Your Word Power? Have been getting 100% since I could eat solid foods, but it’s fun and it makes you feel smart! And the feature article is usually about a shark attack, bear attack or killer bee attack, and thus totally riveting. Anyhoo, it took my mind off things. Like eyeball paralyzation and probings, glaucoma and the anatomically obvious, yet disgusting fact that the sticky yellow drops they put in my eyes were on the tissue when I blew my nose. And it gave me something more to look at than the FUGLY doctor’s office art. Ah yes, there are volumes that could be written about the state of doctor’s office, movie theater and fast food restaurant artwork, but I think that’s deserving of a post all its own.
Stay tuned… tomorrow… Collene goes undercover to expose cubicles on the verge of condemnation!
Virgo impostor
Ok, so I have been freaking out a little bit the past couple days.
I am sure everyone has heard by now that Charlie Sheen is a total f’ing psycho.
So, that’s all well and good, except for the teensy weensy fact that he just so happens to SHARE MY BIRTHDAY.
Of all the washed up, B-rate celebrities on earth to share my birthday, it had to be this cretin. And the fact that his two stand-out roles were in the 80s and required less than a total of 20 minutes of screen time just adds insult to injury. I have to admit, his portrayal of a drugged-out lowlife in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off was poignant. Who knew he was playing himself?
It just doesn’t add up. Virgos are nice people. Some of the people I love most in the world are Virgos. I think we were created by the universe to serve the universe. Much like Vicky the Robot Girl. Was she a Virgo?
Use me, carbon based unit.
Now granted, my belief in all things astrological tends to ebb and flow, depending pretty much on whether I like what I read. All I know is, astrologers definitely seem to hold a grudge against us poor, innocent, doe-eyed virgins. Case in point: every portrait of a “typical” Virgo always revolves around working and cleaning. According to these people, we do nor enjoy anything else. We are generally depicted as neurotic, eagle-eyed neat-freaks who spend Saturday night alphabetizing our sock drawers and run around picking molecules off of our loved ones’ sweaters. Trust me, I am not remotely like this. My roller tape bills may triple the average person, but I made peace with the “mess happens” mentality years ago, otherwise I would have cracked.
But I digress. WHY? Why is Charlie out there giving us Sept. 3rd people a bad name? (shameless birthday plug) I mean, is life so bad? Our birthday either falls on or near the Labor Day holiday, so at least we get a day off to play. Is there residual sibling rivalry dating back to the 80s? Are you bitter that Emilio landed a role in Breakfast Club, arguably the definitive 80s teen movie and best film (possibly sharing the title with Pretty in Pink, of course) in the John Hughes Empire of Teenage Misery and Despair, Ltd., and not you? You instead played Cappie in the bittersweet coming of age story, Lucas. Not a bad movie, but I can certainly understand how any time spent with Corey Haim, aka Lukaplakia, would prompt psychological distress later in life.
Ok, so digression seems to be par for the course today.
As I sit here wanting to destroy every last one of my co-workers, can anyone assure me there isn’t a Charlie Sheen lurking inside of me? Is it my destiny to end every sentence with “fuck you?”
In order to hopefully thwart my Virgo fate, I have decided I now only believe in the Chinese zodiac where I am hopefully safe. My birth year is 1971, Year of the Pig or Boar. Is there a Year of the Asshole?
Thrill in the Grill
Current Mood: 
Surprised
I went to the dentist for 2.5 hours yesterday, and today i sit here with a plastic toof top! Its a temporary arrangement. We too shall be parting ways in a few weeks to make room forrrrr….A GOLD TOOF.
: |
I’m about to bling my mouth.
Now don’t worry. We aren’t talking the Kelis touch here.
It’ll only be one. In the very back.
The reason for all of this oral hype is a freak almond accident (unrelated to my last post) a few weeks back. My sister was in town, we were all hanging out & eating deenore. I was chewing my last bite of salad, doing the happy food chair dance, when part of my back tooth suddenly sheared off! Needless to say, I was freaked the fuck out. I had many horror-struck flashes of forging a life in Chico as a broken-toothed hillbilly. I’m attributing this stomach-turning event to the fact that I have hidden from the dental community for about 10 yrs. Luckily, I possess Teef of Steel. Superteef. Stupid sneaky almonds, however, have proven to be their kryptonite.
I’m glad that I’ve waited so long to go to the dentist. I’m sure its a much less traumatic experience now than it was even 5 yrs ago. I was constantly OOOOing and AHHHHing over the new-fangled technology. (It became readily apparent that I had just unfrozen from my cryogenic dental sleep into the 21st century) It wasn’t nearly as scary an experience as I anticipated. My tagline on my dentist’s card reads “Gentle Dentistry”. How can one be afraid of that? How about that fancy numbing tab that they make you suck on for a minute or so? That is some cool shit. (Although it did leave me feeling like I had downed a couple of white crosses for a few minutes. After that it was smoooooth sailing.) I braved the drills, and flying tooth dust and the sharp picking implements and the long sucking devices - no sweat. What I DIDN’T expeck was THE STENCH.
HOLY.
SHIT.
I sincerely hope that this is the Standard Tooth Dust Scent. (STDs). Glade could make a killing with this in their repellent aromas lineup. It was the ultimate scratch-n-sniff.
I immediately adopted the technique of holding my breath -at all costs- until there was a break in all odor-reflecting devices in front of my breathing holes. I am thankful for their sakes that they were wearing masks. So, after 2 hrs of “zzttt..zzzzzzzztt…zzzz…zzzz…” and breathing like a porpoise, VOILA! - plastic toof cap. My bottom lip and jaw stayed numb for an hour or so afterward. I was fearful of applying chapstick to my cheek or consuming any liquids without abundant absorbent materials. Twas like being a foster face for some stranger’s lips.
Anywho, my dentist ROCKS. If one ever needs a dental reference in Chico, I know your man.
I go back in a few weeks for the permanent GOLD replacement. I am currently taking design suggestions.
UPDATE: KPON TOOF SUBMISSIONS
Unsolved Mysteries
Experts are baffled by what have caused these rare, intricate fur circles. Were they created by UFOs, thus shedding light on the existence of extra-terrestrials? A result of a magnetic force or energy field? Or just a cruel clipper hoax?
We may never know.
