A fresh look, new words, and new energy.

In the past, I’ve purged and started over. Those efforts often fail, so I’ll try something different this time. The old posts will stay, as a reminder of the gap, and we’ll just move forward with our past in plain sight.


Sometimes life just goes well.

This is one of those times.

It’s cold outside, but other than that, life is good. Work is hectic, but fairly rewarding. But enough about work – I’ve been cast in a new play! American Noise: The Savage Re-Birth of the American Dream went into rehearsal last night, and is set to open mid-March. Do come, if you can!

Also, check us out . . . The Twenty Percent Theatre Company, Twin Cities. Pretty much awesome, as well.

Hmm. This last part is not at all work, but actually is somewhat related . . . my company had its annual holiday party on Saturday night. Suffice it to say it was splendid. What’s that? You want to see cute pictures? Okay, okay. Here’s one. And yes. My night really was that good.

Hmm. The world spins funny. I’m not even going to begin. I had four wisdom teeth forcibly removed from my mouth last Friday. I’m eating soft foods, and probably losing weight because I can’t eat fast enough not to be hungry. I think that might be making me a little irritable, too. Bah, on that. I should just take some more vicodin and go to bed. I went all day drug-free, but right now, I’m just on the verge of some pain, and it will probably help me sleep better, anyway. Do I sound like an addict yet?

Looking forward to being able to do my taxes and collect a refund. And hopefully get a lovely friend of mine hired and get a referral bonus. One or both of those windfalls will be my new couch, about which I’m desperately excited.

Bleh. I’m sort of eh, today. I should not write more. Maybe later.

I was rudely awakened this morning, and for a moment, I was bewildered as to how I could have possibly woken before my alarm, as tired as I was last night. I soon realized, however, the culprit, as I became aware of the incessant throbbing in the upper right part of my mouth and the incredibly nauseated feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I rose out of bed, filled up a glass of water and downed more than the recommended daily dose of Excedrin, and tried to go back to sleep. About an hour of tossing and groaning later, I was able to sleep for a few minutes, and now, finally, the pain has subsided a little.

I went to the dentist last Thursday afternoon, which was really only to get the referral to the oral surgeon so I can get these puppies out. It’s not as if I had any doubt as to whether that would be necessary; I’ve known for years. Finally, I have the security and insurance and luxury of time to ensure that I can get them out without killing myself in a lot of different ways.

I was able to get in to get the panoramic x-ray of my mouth on Friday morning, which was pretty sweet to look at. I will sadly admit that it’s been far too long since I’ve had dental work done, due to the aforementioned insurancy (or lack of insurancy) junk. In the x-ray, I was able to see all four of my stupid wisdom teeth, none of which have enough room to live. The oral surgeon seemed pretty fascinated by the “mixed bag” of teeth tricks I had up my sleeve, and said that my issues were somewhat “unique.” I said I was just special. The grand tour of my mouth? Well, at position 1 (that’s the top right), we have an impacted tooth, that’s also sort of being held back by a little “extra” bit of tooth material as well. (Not completely unheard of – but the surgeon also said they don’t often see it.) On the other topside, we have a tooth of which I’ve been incredibly aware, as it’s already erupted out the side of my gums and is attacking my cheek. Directly below that one is the “normal” one of the bunch, which has erupted as well, in a sort of straight manner, though, as we could see by the x-ray, certainly doesn’t have enough room and is pushing against all things around it. Finally, the other bottom one is also impacted and will require a little bit of bone removal to extract. Whee!

Friday will not arrive soon enough.

I managed to make it to the liquor store with about a half hour to spare on this, the last chance before the new year begins. I, and about half of the rest of the population of Minneapolis, I think.

Also, to everyone who drove by while I was waiting for the bus (and for the kind Metro Transit driver of the 6 that took me home with a box of alcohol – you can’t tell there are only four bottles in it, not twelve, from the outside), I really am not a lush. Contrary to what my new shirt might seem to indicate . . .

I'll be styling this lovely shirt tomorrow night . . .

I’m pondering all sorts of end-of-the year things, which I hope to soon post. But for now, I must continue cleaning in anticipation of Nikhil’s arrival on the morrow. ***EDIT: Likely will not see my favorite brown kid until Monday. All sadness.***

I’m also getting my wisdom teeth cut out of my mouth on Friday. More to come.

Lids drooping of wakeful night
Regina Spektor in my ear
preaching the consequence of sounds
Tuesday morning on the 17
rounding the corner onto Eat Street
Restaurant Row
a winter-pink sunrise
vaults off my chest so hard
I lose breath
and all day my mind
that shade
of pink
that shade
between cotton candy
(before blue was the thing)
and grandma’s lipstick
that shade
smelling of genesis
the pink of new flesh
fresh wounds
soft tongues
exploring new mouths
that shade
a moment
into crisp December grey
of brain matter
and elephants
and cold oatmeal
on my desk

and suddenly
it seems to me
bathed in numbing
that the real important thing
about life
is knowing when to widen your eyes
and when to let them close.

In my continuous effort to wipe slates clean as this year comes to a close, I accomplished all means of things this weekend. Laundry, dishes, movies (fell in love with Lloyd Dobler again), relaxation . . . but most importantly, I finished the scarf I’ve been knitting for about five years. Picture to come. It’s really my first knitting project, and I’m very proud of it. You’ve no idea how it feels to finally be done. Scarves are not supposed to take five years to finish. Honestly.

Now, if only I could get to sleep . . . .

March 2019
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