Talk Like A Pirate Day

"Captain Hook must remember

Not to scratch his toes.

Captain Hook must watch out

And never pick his nose.

Captain Hook must be gentle

When he shakes your hand.

Captain Hook must be careful

Openin' sardine cans

And playing tag and puring tea

And turnin' pages of his book.

Lots of folks I'm glad I aint -

But mostly Captain Hook!"

~Shel Silverstein.

For those of you who like mustaches and epicly drawn cartoons, this is the link for you.

Tell me I'm not crazy, well maybe just a little bit....

I am pleased to say that autumn is here. And I gladly welcome it with open arms, steaming coffee, and comfy hoodies. Late September through early November continue to be my favorite months, and Fall my favorite season. The change is so tangible, expressed through colors, and smells, it refuses to be ignored. I find that my imagination goes wild as my senses explore this magnificent transformation.


Being a part-time employed gal, missing her brother, with some time on her hands and errands to do, I found myself adventuring through neighboring towns yesterday. Purchasing chemicals, picking up job applications, making bank runs, and visiting one of my favorite places in the world: the library. 


There I returned all my books, and went to find some new world to delve into. Success, I think. I left the great hall of literature with only two books in my bag this time, I had learned my lesson on over ambitious amounts of reading with lack of time to do so, and was intrigued by the story line of my new companions. (Happenstance Found, by P.W. Catanese, an author who apparently lives in CT, and The Wednesday Wars, by Gary D. Schmidt an author who does not live in CT ;)


I pushed through the double doors out into the gray, damp world of downtown Manchester. And as I made my way to my parallel parked car, leather boots sloshing through puddles, something about the whimsical plot of Happenstance tickled a corner of my brain....I pondered it the rest of the day as I listened to the pitter patter of rain on the windowpanes. Finally my imagination got the better of me. I grabbed an old notebook filled with loose papers and a tale of epicness in the the making,(a little story I had long since put down and nearly forgotten about) set up camp in my garage, and prepared for a walk in the rain.


 With leather boots laced up and a heavy barn jacket I strolled up towards my cul-de-sac. The street was deserted and lit by four or five dim lamps. The air was pleasantly fresh, and I lifted my face towards the sky inviting the rain to soak me. It may sound terribly odd, but trudging through dark streets in the rain can be quite invigorating. As I traveled up the street my mind went on many adventures. So many stories, so many possibilities. 


Returning to my garage I slouched down in a canvas chair, notebook in my lap, doors wide open, the sound of rain and chill of mist floating through. I sat there for the next hour familiarizing myself with old friends, and reconstructing new and exciting plot lines. Thinking up all sorts of adventures that I wish I could have. Once or twice my father came out with looks of confusion, amusement, and what may have been concern for my sanity. I was inspired. Blame it on the weather. Blame it on my new pair of scruffy leather boots. Blame it on boredom, or a lack of adventure. Blame it on my lunacy. I don't care. I had fun. 

I escaped for just a little bit, and it was most refreshing to do so.

I've been to the dentist a thousand times....

The next line should go something like "But I 'know' the 'drill'", but I don't actually. I am not one who has had to make any sort of visits to my dentist to have things drilled out of my teeth. I go in twice a year for a cleaning. Something at which I roll my eyes to. The only things I've ever heard them say is "Looking great! Floss more often, and think about removing those wisdom teeth." I am on good terms with the dentist, I suppose. I sit there and tolerate them telling me things I already know, while they poke around in my mouth with latex covered hands and pointy metal implements. blech How I hate people poking around in my mouth. It gives me the creeps, and I think I could do without that.

But last Tuesday morning I went in for a consultation to go about having my wisdom teeth removed. The prior weekend one of them decided to give me grief, causing my gums and cheek to swell and preventing me from eating solid food or really opening my mouth at all. I was living on Advil. By the time I got into the appointment my mouth had calmed down and I was finally able to eat more solid foods. But as soon as I opened my mouth for the Dr. I knew what was coming.

"Yeah, those need to come out." I left the office with 2 prescriptions to control infection (If he didn't like the look of my gums then he would have been terrified by them just a few days before) and two days between me and oral surgery. I heaved a great sigh and then plotted out the delicious meals that I could eat before losing the ability to chew for who knew how long.

Many of my friends have had their wisdom teeth out, and nearly all of them have had varying experiences. From staying in bed all week, unable to do anything, to going to dance class the night of (albeit a little loopy), to not having any side effects save chipmunk cheeks, to having their face swell and the newly empty sockets becoming uncomfortably infected. So, to be honest, I had no idea what to expect.

Friday morning arrived. I downed two horse-sized pills that did not feel comfy in my empty stomach and within the hour found myself patiently awaiting my teeth to be ripped out of my mouth. Yay.

Finally, they lead me to a funny smelling room with a sketchy looking dental torture chair in the middle of floor. The friendly woman sat me down, asking how I was while placing sensors on my ankles, thumb, and wrist. Through the open door I could peer across the hallway where there was a man partially hidden behind a curtain, bloody gauze in his hand, frustrated attendant by his side, wits not totally about him. Well, that's comforting... I thought :/ Finally the doctor came in, asked a few more questions, briefing me once more on the procedure. A mask was placed over my nose, sending oxygen up my surprised nostrils. They strapped my right arm to the chair to ensure my hand with the thumb sensor didn't go any where, and sprayed some freezing liquid on my left arm, numbing it for the injection of anesthesia. I became aware of two hands, one on either side of my head, blocking my peripherals, and felt like a horse with blinders. Did they think I was about to freak out? Did they not see my ears? My nose with a metal stud in it? I have no problem with needles, and was ready to just pass out and take a nap. It was weird, and annoying.

Finally, the ceiling started doing funny things and I must have looked a little amused because the doctor commented on the effects that should be taking place right about now....and that was it. I was gone. Can't say I felt a thing. Next thing I knew I was sitting in the back recovery room, not able to remember the trip from chair to hallway, mind coming quicker to consciousness than body. (an irritating phenomenon when you wish to simply leave)

And so, unable to feel my face, I left the building. Onwards to pick up drugs and starbucks :) As it turned out, I never felt any pain, (not because I was taking painkillers, on the contrary, I've slacked a bit in that area. They make me a zombie during the day, and unable to sleep at night) but much annoyance has occurred over not being able to chew real food. Living on a liquid diet with everything seeming to be dairy based is not enjoyable for an Italian who enjoys eating hearty, home cooked meals...

So, here I am. After nearly 3 weeks of not eating food, nearly 4 days of having less teeth, and nearly finished with popping pills, I am just peachy. Happy that I wasn't bed ridden for a week. Happy that I was up and running just a few hours after the procedure, even though I resembled a drugged up zombie. And happy that my little bro called me from school just to see how I was doing :)

...Not to say that I would willingly go through that again....