(no subject)
Today I almost hyperventilated at the orthodontist when I found out I am soon to be wisdom toothless. Some of you may know this but for those of you who don't I have a severe hospital/needle phobia. All day I've been thinking about sharp needles in the back of my hand and swollen bruised cheeks and nothing but soup for weeks and giant caverns in my gums. It doesn't help that almost everyone I know who has had them removed has been in terrible pain for a long time afterwards. PAIN! I can't be in pain. EVER. My entire existence is structured around the avoidance of pain. I haven't really hurt myself for years now and when I do, I still cry like a little child. And can I just ask what the fuck is with wisdom teeth anyway? What purpose do they serve other than to inevitably erupt around the age of 20, get jammed under jawbones and get removed in some macabre operation involving the slicing of tender gums? I think I'll have to take a Valium or two before the operation, or I'll run screaming from the hospital. When I was five, it took a doctor, three nurses and my mum to hold me down while i had a needle. And I was FIVE! After my orthodontist appointment, I went over to Garden City and bought a dress, a cardigan and some shoes to make me feel better. And I bought iced donuts for everyone at work because I always eat their morning teas but never contribute any food of my own.
I saw MacBeth yesterday. It was terrible, it rates as one of the worst films I've seen in my whole life. A postmodern adaptation of Shakespeare gone horribly wrong. The only redeeming feature was looking at an incredibly attractive Sam Worthington for two hours. I had such high hopes, and they were crushed after the first ten minutes. I particularly felt sorry for this elderly couple sitting behind us who exclaimed as the final credits finally rolled " oh dear that was a bit violent". The old lady looked visibly shaken at the filth she had just witnessed.
I saw MacBeth yesterday. It was terrible, it rates as one of the worst films I've seen in my whole life. A postmodern adaptation of Shakespeare gone horribly wrong. The only redeeming feature was looking at an incredibly attractive Sam Worthington for two hours. I had such high hopes, and they were crushed after the first ten minutes. I particularly felt sorry for this elderly couple sitting behind us who exclaimed as the final credits finally rolled " oh dear that was a bit violent". The old lady looked visibly shaken at the filth she had just witnessed.