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T h e A d v e n t u r e s o f C h i c a g o J o |
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Donkey Kick to the Face |
2007-03-15� �� 4:08 p.m. |
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Plain and simple: I feel like I got my ass kicked. Yesterday was my first of three dentist appointments to pimp my grill. This one was way more invasive than I imagined. For over two hours I tolerated burning flesh, chipping my tooth out one itsy-bitsy piece at a time, and trying not to punch my dentist every time she said, �my boyfriend -- whoops! -- I mean my fianc�!� Under the right amount of Novocain, I can handle burning bits of my gum off and chiseling, yanking, and grinding my old, fake tooth off bit by bit. But under the right amount of nothing do I want to hear about how sparkly your ring is, how much you love your schmoopy, or how many kids you want to have. Bitter? Maybe. Whatever. So today I have a bit of a burn mark on my gum line and a Chiclet sitting front and center. It�s really not all that bad, but the residual pain from all of the whittling away at my fake tooth has my nose feeling like it�s broken. Hence the donkey-kick title of this here entry. One month from now I go back to the dentist to get fitted for two new teeth, and about three weeks later, I�ll be sporting the new grill. Between the time that I get fitted for them and the time that I get them, I�ll have two Chiclets and will be seen both parentally and internationally. My folks are finally both making the trip down to Chicago before I jet outta here for sunnier skies and warmth on my bones. They�re taking multiple days off of work to do whatever there is to do in this town if you�re only here for about a week. Since I have a chorus show over the weekend that they�re here, I�ll be taking the days off of work to spend hanging with them before I go to rehearsals all night. Then at the end of their trip here, I�m heading to London to visit with my friend Becky. This involves even more time off from work. My hopes are that I�ll come back from nearly two weeks off, no one will remember me, and I�ll head home and collect paychecks until work realizes the error. Here�s to hoping, anyway. The plans for LA are currently up in the air, as another idea has been planted. I chose LA because it fits my requirements and because I�ve got a good connection to easily make friends and find a pimp-worthy job. There are lots of places that fit my requirements, actually: be warm most of the time, have a beach, have a nightlife, and be somewhere that I can afford to live on my current salary. Last weekend my girl friends headed to Ft. Lauderdale to visit our favorite Natty. Now they�re gung-ho moving there. And since that matches my requirements and includes people who I already know and love, why the hell not? I can have my powder blue VW Bug with a grey convertible top there just as easily as in LA, I can learn to surf on a different ocean, and -- shit -- I can write a check right now for a down payment on a decent condo there. Bring it on. Saying that I live in Florida might not be as sexy at saying I live in LA, but I�ll lie and say I�m in Miami since it�s close enough anyway. Go get me a tramp stamp, my silly little car, and a job that I also don�t have to particularly care about, and I�m up for it. And now it�s time to stop with the daydreaming and head outta here. Into the 33-degree evening. Waiting for the snow to fall. And my face aching. �
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Moving Day - 2008-02-15
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