What a Fun, Sexy Time for You!

The title is a quote from “Arrested Development.” George Michael says this to Maeby when he thinks she’s going to sleep with Steve Holt! who is also their cousin because their uncle GOB is his father. That was a little convoluted, but if you watch the show you know what I’m talking about.

So Cavan got a call from, as we affectionately call them, The Spain People, who offered him a position after having been on the waiting list for two months. Since he didn’t have a whole lot else going on, he accepted the offer. Of course he now has barely three weeks to sell his car, computer, and desk (among other things), get his visa in person in Chicago, and transfer all of his stuff over to his parents’ house that needs to be stored. Except I think Katie from work is going to buy his car because her Volvo is falling apart.

I am tremendously excited for him because I know he hasn’t had anything on the horizon for a while. After graduating and applying to the program, then being wait-listed, he didn’t know what else to do. I am also tremendously excited for me because we can clean out the basement, move the cat boxes upstairs, and turn his room into a guest room/office for me. I don’t know for sure if the cats have been peeing in the basement, but it sure smells that way and I’d like to get their litterboxes out of there and keep the door closed for a while. A little experiment to see if the smell is coming from some other source.

And, of course, there’s the whole why-is-it-that-no-matter-how-big-the-place-we-move-into-is-we-always-outgrow-it issue and how we’ll able to stretch out a bit more and even have a guest bedroom if we’d like. I don’t know what we’ll do if we move in to a smaller place after this. Sell a lot of stuff, I guess.

Over all I’ve really enjoyed having Cavan as a housemate. He’s a lot cleaner than most of the other people who have lived with me, but being a younger guy we sometimes seem to have an older sister/young brother sort of relationship. At times I feel he’s deliberately antagonizing me just for shits and giggles. I think part of that has had to do with his not being busy and not really working except doing the kitchen remodeling thing for his folks. I really hope this opportunity opens up new doors and gets him motivated. If nothing else, he’ll probably be really busy and won’t have time to worry about What’s Next. And hopefully, something will come up as a result of this program.

Either way, I’m glad for everyone involved.

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For those of you coming across my blog by searching for things about your temporary crown falling out, temporary teeth not staying in, root canal, and facial pain after a root canal, I apparently have not been much help. But I will try because the amount of hits I have gotten for those search terms is really ridiculous.

If the pain is really, really bad, you should call your dentist. Believe me, they have an emergency number and they want you to call. Some throbbing after a root canal is normal for a day or two, maybe longer, but the horrible pain should be over now because the infected root have been removed. Yay! The throbbing was normal for me with the total of three that I’ve had in the past year. It was usually a result of the shots in the muscle and/or nerves in my mouth, and, you know, all that drilling. Excruciating pain, however, is not normal. Try taking a couple of Ibuprofen before the numbness wears off, though. That helps.

If your temporary crown falls out, you should also let your dentist know. They’ll probably fit you in that day to re-place it for free. No biggie! On that note, however, I have only had one stay in for the entire three weeks that it took to have my permanent made and placed. This was because I had enough of my original tooth left to hold a temporary in place. The other two were pretty big root canals and there was not enough tooth left – nor was there another behind the back molars – to make the temporary stay put.

I used a generic drugstore denture cream to put it back in. I broke down and bought the expensive stuff and it worked much better. I grind my teeth at night, so I always had to put the temporary back in the next morning. Make sure you ALWAYS check with your dentist first, though, and keep both the temporary and the area clean. Try not to chew on that side of your mouth at all, if you can help it.

I am not a trained professional, but I have had a ton of dental work done in the past. What has worked for me is Ibuprofen, name brand Fixodent, and stellar oral hygiene after all the work. Root canals suck, but they’re totally necessary. Don’t hesitate to have bad dental pain checked, and please don’t sue me if you do something I suggested here and it didn’t work for you. Take it from the person who was too scared to go to a dentist for 13 years and ended up with about five grand in dental bills. That’s after insurance.

The Sound of Silence

If you don’t hear from me every single day now, it’s because I suddenly have a lot to do. Despite only being in to the first full week of classes, I have had tons of reading, two small papers, a blog and Web site to start (for my Writing for the Web course), as well as various little activities and workbooks.

I know I’ll figure it out all out soon and get in to the swing of things. I always do. But I admit to a certain amount of concern and panic over the sheer volume of reading. Luckily, my literacy course is a seminar, which prepares you for graduate courses. While there will be a ton of work, it’s a small class and I’ll be able to get a feel for how I do in this environment. If I do well, perhaps grad school is a good option. If I don’t, then a full time job at a bookstore may be in my future.

Just kidding. Sort of.

I definitely spoiled myself and became lethargic and lazy these past couple of months, but if I want to graduate in a reasonable amount of time I may find myself with a full load next summer.

A Real Weiner

americano That last post was making me feel really nasty so I decided I should give you some good news. I’m a drink-making winner!

We started having a speciality drink contest at work for the summer and I guess they had a lot of good submissions, so they did it again for fall/winter drinks. I entered one drink then, but I admit I wasn’t completely serious about it. I just wanted them to get me some of the green apple syrup. It’s really good mixed with club soda.

This time I actually went about finding special sprinkles and whatnot. The drink that won . . . well, I don’t know if I should tell you what it is. That might ruin the surprise. I can tell you that I knew it had a chance when I tasted it and found it so incredibly sweet I thought I was going to puke. I thought, “Oh, yeah. People are going to love this stuff.” I get a hundred bucks and a fancy sign with my name on it and all this crap and everyone has to learn how to make my drink and the company makes a ton of money off everyone who orders it and they never had to hire any sort of marketing people. Everyone wins?

Dear Michael Vick: Burn in Hell

If I haven’t addressed the Michael Vick Situation or given you my opinion on it thus far, it’s because, at this point, you should know I’m thoroughly and utterly disgusted, horrified, and appalled. I think that piece of shit deserves more than he will ever get, as do all the people who consider him innocent or dogfighting a normal, fun activity. But if I haven’t addressed it yet, it’s because I worry myself sick about it in day-to-day life and haven’t felt much like articulating my rather wrathful thoughts.
I do have a tendency to over-worry myself when it comes to the sickening treatment human beings inflict on anything defenseless. Sometimes when I’m laying in bed at night I can’t stop my mind from racing. I think yeah, so, they caught Vick, but what about DMX and Big Boi and all the other “celebrities” who get away with this kind of thing? I mean, if someone can openly perpetuate it, then what hope do we have for punishing the average a-hole doing it over on 46th and Carvel? For Christ’s sake, all you have to do is go through the rap section at any music store and start counting the number of CD album art with dudes (and sometimes women like Missy Elliott) standing with thick chains attached to thicker dogs baring their teeth.

One thing that especially frustrates me is that total lack of understanding of these dogs. I can’t believe we all commonly refer to American Staffordshire Terriers (terriers!) as “pit bulls;” a nickname they got from these so-called games people bet on. I do it, too, and both Charlie and I now tell people that Alvy is a black lab/terrier mix. Because he is, and because if you say “pit bull,” people automatically back up and look down at him.

If the world must have the circus and Greyhound and horse racing (three other “sports” where animals are treated horribly in an effort to entertain human beings), the least we can do is focus on eliminating the people who encourage such a brutal and barbaric pasttime as fighting dogs to the death.

Vick needs to burn in hell (and I’m willing to personally send him there if someone will let me at him), and so do all his supporters and those backward idiots who feel important when they overpower another living thing.

Fabric Lusciousness

purlsohoThe order I made from purlsoho came today and I was ecstatic. I ordered five different fabrics, all but one of which are heavy or upholstery weight. Guess what? Perfect for homemade bags! I only got 1/2 yard of each because a.) I don’t have that much money after purchasing my new camera and, despite all of the bazillions of cheddar Charlie brings home from his seventeen or so jobs, I/we still have bills to pay and b.) I’ve never bought “really nice” fabric before and wanted to be able to get a few different, small batches so I could experiment.

Three of them are Amy Butler designs and all of them I pretty much just want to frame and look at. How the hell does one go about making one’s own fabric? I mean, I can see giving some factory a design and then they mass-manufacture it, but I was under the impression she made it all herself and was having a rather difficult time imagining this woman in Portland or Seattle or New York or wherever she lives, hunched over a loom on a wooden stool with several five-foot-high piles of sheep’s wool sitting next to her.

Being. Nothingness. Randomness.

caladium One of the first photos I took with my new camera. It’s the underside of a caladium plant we have on the porch. I also utilized the action feature to shoot about 25 photos of Charlie and the dogs tearing around the front yard. You’d think I never understood the concept of video because I was so highly entertained scrolling quickly through each of them.

Spanish this morning was horrifying. I am so far behind the place where our instructor expects us to be. I know a few other kids were feeling the panic too. Rather than coming home and immediately cracking open my textbook, however, we ate lunch, Charlie went to the gym with his friend Jeremy, and I cleaned the house, started Charlie’s laundry, and took about 100 photos while I fiddled with the new camera. I’ve been reading the instruction manual so I can actually understand how the use the thing.

Work tomorrow at six and then I’ll start studying. I swear.

iPost – Almost

So I was going to post from my iPhone at school today because I have an hour and forty-five minute break between classes that just so happens to be right at rush hour so the idea of going home and somehow making it back and finding a parking space in time for my second class doesn’t appear to be too viable an option. But I didn’t post because I discovered I was in the wrong part of the building and I don’t have my 87-character “passphrase” memorized yet so I couldn’t just sign on and download my class schedule. I had to search around to find out which room I was actually supposed to be in.

Other than that and the parking space I found about a mile from the building where both of my classes happen to be, I’m beat, I’m hot as hell, and I want to go to bed. I like both of my professors from today a lot and it appears the more advanced classes, while being much more specific and concentrated, are still a lot more laid back than the courses I’ve taken in the past.

I sat next to a kid in history who could’ve been Cavan’s twin. I sat in front of a girl whose main activity is “clubbing,” (her word), and behind a girl who snickered at absolutely everything every person introducing him or herself said. I eventually started giving her dirty looks because it was pretty rude.

I have to be back in class in less than 12 hours and I’m not 100% sure where the building is. I’ve never had a class in this one, and it’s pretty far from the main cluster of buildings where all of my classes have ever been. I’m a little worried about that and am considering making Charlie take me – just this once – so I know where it is and am on time.

Otherwise, I need to eat – despite the late hour – and organize my crap for tomorrow. Oh, and I took a couple of pictures on campus today to show you but have neither the energy nor the inclination to sync up the iPhone right now. Food is top priority.

Updatey

I changed the layout and look of the ol’ bloog. I meant to put in two “o”s.

I couldn’t customize as much with the old one as I liked and, as far as I could tell, my “About” page was missing. I know this was a terrible, terrible inconvenience for all of you who wished you could read the one, vague paragraph I wrote about myself. But being the anal retentive I am, it annoyed me that the page link was missing.

Plus this one is even funkier. Me likey.

Homeowner Envy & Intellectual Insecurity

Here’s a bunch of odds-and-ends from the past few days . . .

We got rear-ended on Sunday. We went for lunch with Scott and Jay, then to see their new digs (very impressive and both Charlie and I agreed on the way home that we both now want a house. Again. Thoughts that will probably change in two weeks the more we read about rates going up). We were heading back to their place when a green van behind us at a stoplight slammed into the back of the Matrix.

At the time my thoughts had nothing to do with the damage. Once I realized that the force that jerked us forward and my head, subsequently, into the back of my seat, was a car hitting us, I was thinking “Oh, no. Now we have to call the police and the insurance company and how long is this all going to take?” But when we got out and looked at the back of our car and the front of hers, there wasn’t a scratch anywhere.

Apparently she’d taken her foot off the brake accidentally while she was reaching back to get something for her dog and hadn’t realized it. But since my back end and her hood both opened and closed just fine, we all went along our merry ways. I was proud of myself for not freaking out because I have a bit of car-accident-paranoia. But there was nothing to be freaked out about and I’m glad.

In other news, I dyed my hair again. The light brown/dark blonde thing was just not working for me. I knew it was a mistake the moment I’d started bleaching it. All the hard work I’ve put into trying to maintain a healthy head of hair was ruined in just a few minutes. I’d considered having Cavan cut off an inch or so today, but I discovered little blobs of hair dye throughout the upstairs and had to take a Magic Eraser to them. By the time I was done my hair was drying and I prefer having it cut wet, so I was just like screw it.

My new camera showed up yesterday. It’s a-very nice. I’m probably going to have to stop taking so many photos of the dogs and Charlie eating and try to work on learning about lighting and color.

Classes start tomorrow and I’m kind of worried about it and kind of not. I’m always worried about Having Enough Time and getting a parking space, but I’ve never been opposed to walking, so I usually just take the first space I find in the first lot I come across. The fall semester, especially the first few weeks, is always terrible There are something like 20,000 or 30,000 students enrolled at IUPUI and, if I’m not mistaken, about 200 parking spaces.
Once it gets colder and people start dropping out and skipping classes, it won’t be too bad. I’ve also got a case of intellectual insecurity, brought on by two years of cake courses at Ivy Tech.
Although I have to admit a couple of instructors were very serious about how you wouldn’t just get passed for having a pulse and were passionate about teaching. To be completely honest, none of them were really that bad. It was the students I couldn’t stand. Then again, I couldn’t stand many of the ones I encountered at IUPUI either.

Wow. Talk about a poorly written blog entry. Sorry about that.