Horrid, Good, Bad...I swear my weekend was bipolar!
Fri. was horrid. I had to get up and go to the dentist. I hate dentists. I shall always hate dentists. To make things worse it was a new dentist and a new assistant chick. This was bad because, as some may know, I cannot do those automated chairs that go up and down while you're on them. Just...no. Leftovers from fifth grade, as my Order-girls liked to say. I may be a switch, but I'm particular, aye? Anyway, she started putting it down and I jumped a good inch or two into the air, upset her tray and said:
Me: If your going to lower the bloody contraption lower it now and then I'll lay down, but I'm not lying on that sodding torture table while you move it. Needless to say I picked up the full-on accent. Luckily she realised just how serious I was and did so. And then once you get past the moving table you get the bright shiny light.
Ehhhh....
New dentist comes in, and he has a heavy Brooklyn accent and I sound as if I just got jumped up in London. This is going to be fun, right? No.... he too insists on moving the damn chair/table and I proceed to go stiff as a bored and sit up. Then he tells me he wants me to have surgery to get the evils that are wisdom teeth out.
Me. Having surgery. On my mouth. You can imagine how thrilled I was. Especially as Da drives home, regaling me about how when he had his tooth out (he only had one) they doped him up with novocaine cut into the gum procceded to cut out part of his jaw to get the tooth and then only gave him Tylenol with coedine for the pain. Oh yes, I'm really looking forward too it now. Thank you Da.
I get home. Oh yay. The grades are up. I go check the grades, like a fool. Ah. All right. Here Da, have my knives. I don't trust me. So. I call my grandmother, cry for fifteen minutes and then wipe my eyes and get on with things. Da goes to the eye doctor, I stay at home. He gets back. He needs to go to the mall to get new lenses.
Me: We can go shopping? At the mall?
Da: Yes we can go shopping at the mall.
Me: Today?
Da: Yes. After dinner.
Me: Good.
Shopping makes me feel better when I'm depressed. ^.^ Shopping is a girl's second best friend. So, I ended up getting a new collar for all my cutesy good-girl outfits. It's powder-pink velvet and has silver square studs around it. Cute. Not to be worn except with aformentioned good girl outfits like on Sat.
So, Sat. I went to CCS's school play(s) and it was a lot of fun. Nevets, Murph-Murph, Alli, Tesia, Adam and the rest did a great job. I also found out something interesting. What do you call a group of buzzards? Not a flock or a packas I had assumed. No, you call a group of buzzards a wake. Is it any doubt why I'm morbid? Sat. was my good day.
Today I had a wicked migraine. I stayed in bed with my head covered, plotting all the various ways I could kill Da's loud, squawking bitchy bird but lacked the motivation to execute my plan. Oh well. Maybe later.
Me: If your going to lower the bloody contraption lower it now and then I'll lay down, but I'm not lying on that sodding torture table while you move it. Needless to say I picked up the full-on accent. Luckily she realised just how serious I was and did so. And then once you get past the moving table you get the bright shiny light.
Ehhhh....
New dentist comes in, and he has a heavy Brooklyn accent and I sound as if I just got jumped up in London. This is going to be fun, right? No.... he too insists on moving the damn chair/table and I proceed to go stiff as a bored and sit up. Then he tells me he wants me to have surgery to get the evils that are wisdom teeth out.
Me. Having surgery. On my mouth. You can imagine how thrilled I was. Especially as Da drives home, regaling me about how when he had his tooth out (he only had one) they doped him up with novocaine cut into the gum procceded to cut out part of his jaw to get the tooth and then only gave him Tylenol with coedine for the pain. Oh yes, I'm really looking forward too it now. Thank you Da.
I get home. Oh yay. The grades are up. I go check the grades, like a fool. Ah. All right. Here Da, have my knives. I don't trust me. So. I call my grandmother, cry for fifteen minutes and then wipe my eyes and get on with things. Da goes to the eye doctor, I stay at home. He gets back. He needs to go to the mall to get new lenses.
Me: We can go shopping? At the mall?
Da: Yes we can go shopping at the mall.
Me: Today?
Da: Yes. After dinner.
Me: Good.
Shopping makes me feel better when I'm depressed. ^.^ Shopping is a girl's second best friend. So, I ended up getting a new collar for all my cutesy good-girl outfits. It's powder-pink velvet and has silver square studs around it. Cute. Not to be worn except with aformentioned good girl outfits like on Sat.
So, Sat. I went to CCS's school play(s) and it was a lot of fun. Nevets, Murph-Murph, Alli, Tesia, Adam and the rest did a great job. I also found out something interesting. What do you call a group of buzzards? Not a flock or a packas I had assumed. No, you call a group of buzzards a wake. Is it any doubt why I'm morbid? Sat. was my good day.
Today I had a wicked migraine. I stayed in bed with my head covered, plotting all the various ways I could kill Da's loud, squawking bitchy bird but lacked the motivation to execute my plan. Oh well. Maybe later.