everyone brings shit to the table. they can bring a lot of other things, laughter, honesty, fun, friendship, but everyone also brings shit to the table. for friends, family, and lovers, you put up with it because, well, you love them, and their shit is a small price to pay for their company. besides, they put up with the shit you brought to the table. however, there comes a time when you are tired or angry or stressed, and you just can't take the shit being on your table anymore- that's when problems start to manifest.
i bring all this up because, apparently, my mouth is a biological example of the above theory. imagine a dentist's office. look around until you see one of those comically big models of a molar. look at the crown, like an ivory tarp suspended and pressed down in the middle to create an enamel landscape. imagine cusping the edge and rolling the side the twin tails that are the roots. but wait: while the first root is fine- a long white tendril... the other curiously ends about halfway down in a malformed stub. now, normally, this is not a problem- presumably, my body has taken the shit that this particular moral brings to the table for 17-19 years, but last night things changed.
we all know about dental pain, so i won't waste time describing it. it was enough to get me to go to the dentist today (who was kind enough to show me an xray of my quasimodo molar). the problem, he said, was that while the protective tooth covering ended, the nerve ending formed exactly the way they were supposed to- which is to say, they are exposed. this is not a problem most of the time. then he asked me if i'd been getting enough sleep or was under stress. sigh, i've been complaining to my coworkers for 2 weeks now that my sleep schedule is screwed up now that spring has sprung (nothing new there- i just sleep less and less as the days get long), and of course there is the stress of dealing with children (socially acceptable sociopaths that they are), and of course, the emotional drain of being the 'other'.
"that's it!!!" said my mouth, "i can't take this shit any more!!! just who do you think you are having an exposed root in this jawline?" so after however many years of having this tooth, i guess enough was enough- still it sucks that intellectual and emotional overloading caused a toothache so bad i could only get a few hours of sleep.
tonight: loads of advil.
stress reduction took a severe hit when i got a call from the bank saying asking to verify some charges. $650 to some computer software company and $1.50 to red cross or something. sigh again, looks like my check card info is out there somewhere. thank god they were greedy enough to put a huge debit on an account that i almost never use. the bank reversed the charges and is going to cancel the card. suck on that fraud mongers!!! plus, while i don't give to the red cross, it seems that passing along .23% of your stolen money isn't exactly an inspirational act of charity. oh well, thankfully he tried for the whole enchilada instead of trying to milk me dry.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
hmm
well let's get the embarrassing stuff out of the way first: actually there's only one thing and i don't even know why i'm embarrassed about it. last week i washed my clothes and hung them out to dry. i guess i took down a shirt too soon and it was a little damp. later when i pulled it out it had little flecks of mold on it... fairly disgusting. i, of course, threw it out, but still, it makes me wonder how much mold is floating around my apartment. also embarrassing: i started buying fisher party mix from my grocery store because it is the only way to get pretzels in this country. alas it also has cheetos, these super dry pieces of rye bread and some sort of multigrain bread thingies. now i'm not a fan of the last two, but cheetos have never really struck a chord with me either. i like the taste but never really liked how they got my hand all crusty yellow. so here comes the embarrassing part. if you could somehow look into my room right now, you might see me watching tv while i thoughtfully pick out pretzels and cheetos from a can with chopsticks. talk about bastardizing the culture...
to change gears completely: yesterday i bought a microwave. i don't really cook for myself anymore, but i've been having a hankering for popcorn. so i bought an 89,000W microwave to make popcorn. ah well, i figure it'll even out. anyway i got it at a store right by where i work at around rush hour. having bought it, and looking out on to the gridlocked street, i realized that the 2,000W cab ride to my place would take 30 minutes and cost well over 10,000W, i decided to walk. the box itself was only about 40 lbs, 50 at most, but it was fairly large and not easy to carry. the surface area had to be more than the trunk of my body and basically doubled the amount of room i took up walking down the street (it was for this reason that i decided not to try the subway). you would be amazed at how many people thought the "get out of my way, foreigner" rule was still in effect. on the street i am usually the most deferential person alive (on the subways, however, i am a mass of unapologetic elbows, knees, hip bumps, and shoulders)... not yesterday, and there's about a mile and half swath of heretofore preoccupied koreans wondering if all americans are such jack-asses to prove it.
needless to say, it was a long trip. although it did lead me to the conclusion that most people have got exercise all wrong. most people either lift really heavy things a lot, or go a long way. yesterday taught me that the best way might be to carry something thing big, awkward, and kinda heavy a medium distance. good lord! i feel like a vindictive baker spent all of last night pressing her rolling pin up and down my body, then letting her friend the butcher got at my muscle with a meat tenderizer.
the worst part was i never seemed to get closer to home. i can't believe how fast my arms started to give out, and you've never seen someone switch positions and hold on a box! it turned out to be a cruel, muscle aching version of one of those zeno paradoxes. you remember from 10 grade math: if you go at a constant speed over a distance, you'll never get to the end of that distance if you keep breaking up the journey into halves: 1/2+1/4+1/8+1/16+1/32+...+1/n almost equals 1 but never quite. now i know you'll say that sigma equation in calculus that adds up infinite sequences tells us that, in fact, equals 1. but when you are carrying a big ass microwave and keep having to stop halfway home because you're arms start getting tired more and more quickly. make it half way home, stop, rest, repeat. zeno would have been proud... until i actually did make it home, then he probably would have said i failed to understand the basic principles of the paradox...tool
to change gears completely: yesterday i bought a microwave. i don't really cook for myself anymore, but i've been having a hankering for popcorn. so i bought an 89,000W microwave to make popcorn. ah well, i figure it'll even out. anyway i got it at a store right by where i work at around rush hour. having bought it, and looking out on to the gridlocked street, i realized that the 2,000W cab ride to my place would take 30 minutes and cost well over 10,000W, i decided to walk. the box itself was only about 40 lbs, 50 at most, but it was fairly large and not easy to carry. the surface area had to be more than the trunk of my body and basically doubled the amount of room i took up walking down the street (it was for this reason that i decided not to try the subway). you would be amazed at how many people thought the "get out of my way, foreigner" rule was still in effect. on the street i am usually the most deferential person alive (on the subways, however, i am a mass of unapologetic elbows, knees, hip bumps, and shoulders)... not yesterday, and there's about a mile and half swath of heretofore preoccupied koreans wondering if all americans are such jack-asses to prove it.
needless to say, it was a long trip. although it did lead me to the conclusion that most people have got exercise all wrong. most people either lift really heavy things a lot, or go a long way. yesterday taught me that the best way might be to carry something thing big, awkward, and kinda heavy a medium distance. good lord! i feel like a vindictive baker spent all of last night pressing her rolling pin up and down my body, then letting her friend the butcher got at my muscle with a meat tenderizer.
the worst part was i never seemed to get closer to home. i can't believe how fast my arms started to give out, and you've never seen someone switch positions and hold on a box! it turned out to be a cruel, muscle aching version of one of those zeno paradoxes. you remember from 10 grade math: if you go at a constant speed over a distance, you'll never get to the end of that distance if you keep breaking up the journey into halves: 1/2+1/4+1/8+1/16+1/32+...+1/n almost equals 1 but never quite. now i know you'll say that sigma equation in calculus that adds up infinite sequences tells us that, in fact, equals 1. but when you are carrying a big ass microwave and keep having to stop halfway home because you're arms start getting tired more and more quickly. make it half way home, stop, rest, repeat. zeno would have been proud... until i actually did make it home, then he probably would have said i failed to understand the basic principles of the paradox...tool
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