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Comrade Snarky

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10/31/07 11:15 pm

Happy All-hallows Eve, all.

It was a long day -- the last of the year, according to Celtic sources -- but a quiet night. I rose early to accompany my mother on a couple of visits to a couple of doctors, and we lunched and shop between times, and I have new blue corduroy pants and a book about gnomes. Pumpkin muffins and lattés were had, chocolates were eaten, and the skin on my hands turned appropriately autumnal shades of red and orange from shirt-staining pomegranate-scooping and last-minute jack-o-lantern carving. I stayed in and reached blindly through fauxg to sacrifice offerings of fun-sized high fructose corn syrup to the small gods of the night, pirates and angels and half-assed t-shirts (behold, for I am the Hyphen Queen).

It used to be that this was the genesis of the new year, this womb-time of the earth.

I thrive on beginnings, you see. Fresh starts, clean slates, reinventions, changeovers. Raselhague, head of the snake, only sometimes I don't know if I'm devouring my own tail or if I simply have my head up my ass.

In any case, I've just created a NaNoWriMo account. I suddenly feel the need to fondle my Magical Stones of Perserverant Creativity, blessed with incense and intention, et al. Wish me luck. Or send foot-shaped vibes in the general direction of my dorsal side.
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10/12/07 01:09 am - Slug in the cerebral satyr.

I have been having such a hell of a time getting my head on straight. I thought I had it -- I almost had it. But then something jerked in my neck or hooked in my earlobe and tugged and there I was, bent all out of shape again. I can't stop feeling like Humpty Dumpty after all the king's horses and all the king's men gave up and left him to a pot of rubber cement and his own devices.

"Squish."

I sometimes wish.

8/14/07 08:39 am - With teeth.

I do believe today marks the first day which will not be spent in a hydrocodone haze. Tuesday ftw. I think perhaps the medication's been more exhausting than the convalescence. I have such weird reactions to things -- I took two pills night before last, and while neither made me larger or smaller or come to the realization that I'm an overgrown fetus pickling while plugged into the mother of all deus ex machina plot devices, they did have me startling awake every twenty minutes at loud bangs that never actually sounded, hearing invisible women crying and small creatures hissing and scurrying beneath the makeshift rocks of the furniture.

Well, all right, the last part's not entirely out of the ordinary -- I'm always seeing strangely shaped bits of shadow and light out of the corners of my eyes and hallucinating smells and thinking inanimate things sound like breathing, but I've come to the conclusion that I just have highly reflective hair and breathing is rhythmic and rhythms are patterns and patterns are an obsession and so I'm bound to ascribe life to where there is none when what marks something as being alive can, by me, be interpreted so differently from how it manifests itself before the normal naked human eye.

But there's no accounting for the smells.

Still, yes, getting better. I've progressed beyond pudding, finally, having last night and this morning gobbled down lavender pancakes bathed extra soft in syrup, which is by far an improvement on the rancid french-onion-soup taste that's been plaguing my molars ever since the iron tang of blood gave way to more unfamiliar and horrifying secretions. God, foul, foul. And the swelling's finally subsided enough that I can tentatively tongue my stitches, which is just odd. I feel like Frankenmouth, which is probably nothing on how my little cousin feels, who whilst I was having vivid pressure-centric dreams in the dentist's chair was in the ocean being attacked by a shark, the poor thing. Two surgeries later, though, and he's recovering well. Over 150 stitches and, to quote my aunt, "the mother of all babe-magnet battle scars." As though being a long-haired baby rock star weren't enough. At least, I said, he can still play guitar with a mangled leg, and doesn't he have a story to tell now? Sharkbait, ooh ha ha.

I may send him a care basket of ironically-themed gummi & fruit snacks. Taste? Tact? What?

8/7/07 10:41 pm - Test post part quatre.

I'm finally having my wisdom teeth extracted Thursday morning. I'm going to keep them and I've been trying to think up something clever & creepy to do with them. A necklace seems the obvious thing. Of course, I'll have four, so I could do the whole set -- pendant, earrings, and ring. Or I could glue them to the corners of a picture frame, or sew them to a fairy doll alongside some old coins. . . .In any case it's a four-or-more-day weekend, depending on how thoroughly the whole procedure kicks my ass. At least they'll be out of my head, where they've been causing no end of discomfort & trouble.

7/15/07 04:19 pm








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