Another Eye-Crossing Experience... for you

Before jumping blindly into the following chapter, it would be important to note some disclaimers. Now, this might just be an empty warning, but you might have trouble keeping your eyes in focus if you endeavor to read what lies before you. After every few sentences, it might be a good idea to readjust your vision by looking at a far-away wall for a couple seconds. Otherwise you might end up with "permanent cross-eye syndrome." So with that being said, read at your own risk. Don't blame me if you need glasses when your older.

So now, I begin...

Yesterday, February 27th, 2009 was quite a memorable day in my life. For that was the day that I had my third molars (aka wisdom teeth) surgically taken out of my jaw. Thank the Lord I only had two. And they were both on the bottom part of my jaw. They weren't causing me any trouble, but my dentist said that if I waited any longer to get them removed, then they would start causing me much trouble and pain. The way they were growing in was sideways underneath my gum toward the front of my mouth, thusly pushing the rest of my teeth together which would cause even more pain, while at the same time ruin my nice "brace" job that I spent an agonizing year and a half perfecting. I did not want to go through that again. So I decided, rather than go through all that mess, to just get my wisdom teeth pulled. It was memorable in that it was my first major/minor surgery to encounter. (My first being, when I was an infant I fell off my dad's chair and landed my head on the floor heater, resulting in a few stitches up there. Obviously, I don't remember it because it was so long ago.)

The doctor and his assistants were very kind to me. They hooked me up with IV's and other weird gadgets. Of course they informed me that they were going to put me under during the operation. I thought that I would maybe doze off to a deep slumber, but not so. I was wide awake, then the next thing I vaguely remember was waking up in another room. However I don't really recall anything else until I was put in the car. Now, my mother tells me that it was quite an experience getting me from my chair into the wheelchair and into the car in the parking lot (that whole part I don't recall at all). My mom said that as the nurse was putting gauze in my mouth, she told me to bite down. So I did, and bit down on her finger.lol I guess she jerked back real quick and I started apologizing profusely. Then as the same kind and patient lady got me in the wheelchair, I guess my feet drug the ground all the way out to the car. Then as she was trying to get me out from the wheelchair and into the car, I got top-heavy and nearly slammed my head into the frame of the door. My mom said I acted like a drunk guy.

Oh well, it's over now, my face is all swollen up, and I look like a chipmunk. I haven't been exactly obeying the rules of "diet immediately following procedure." He either didn't tell me, or I was in a stupor when he did. I'm leaning towards the latter part. Anyway, I got home and ate some chicken and noodles. Then later on, Daryn and I went over to the Lee's where I ate a cookies-and-cream candy bar (my second favorite) that I got at the store on the way to their house. As I began to open my twix bar that I also got there (my first favorite), Sis. Lee strongly encouraged me not to eat that one because it was too hard and would make me sick. Oh well, at least I got in the cookies-and-cream. By the way, today I ate the twix and I didn't get sick. I haven't gotten sick at all, and my mouth doesn't even hurt really, although they told me that the third day would be the worst (which would be tomorrow, Sunday). So we'll see how that goes. I don't think I'll be praise-singing tomorrow.lol

Sorry about the abrupt ending, but I am done.

Now, if you read that entire post, I am very impressed at your attentiveness and unique ability to keep your eyes focused, much less stay awake. You deserve an applause, or an aspirin.

Until next time,

jb

My New Pet Peeve

You guys probably wouldn't notice this because you usually aren't sitting with me when I read other people's blogs. But one thing that you would notice if you did happen to be with me while I surfed my friends blogs for updates would be that I now have made it a habit of muting the volume every time I go to a blog. Why? because adding automatic music players to blogs seems to be the new "hip" thing to do.

Apparently those who participate in this new fad must add to their playlist songs of which only they enjoy, thus making life miserable for the rest of us who want to visit their blog merely to read what they have to say (not listen to their music). Also, adding a music playlist box thingy to one's blog slows down the load time of the rest of the blog significantly, causing those of us who USED TO enjoy visiting that blog to now despise the consequences of such an action. Listening to music, an odyssey, or an old time radio show used to be something that I was able to do to while surfing blogs.

Not so anymore my friend, because now, while the rest of my computer freezes up, because "At Last," is required to start playing before any typed material appears, I must endure the first 10 seconds or so of that song mixed horridly with my odyssey episode, making it very difficult to comprehend either one. I will then either pause the story, causing immense frustration along with annoyed suspense, until I can turn off the song. Or if I'm not listening to anything, I will hit the mute button with vigor which often causes strain to my left ring finger. In any case, I think I've made my point that I absolutely, unequivocally, and unambiguously despise blogs with music players.

So, with that being said, here are a few of my favorite songs. :-)

(Due to the substantial delay of “blog-load-time”, which my previously uploaded music player has caused in just these past few days, I feel it is in all our best interest if I merely leave you with a web link where you can go to enjoy my music without being disturbed by bothersome essays.) - Click here.

Animals and Australians

Look, I love the accent and all, but is it just me, or does it seem that all who work with animals as a profession are from Australia? As soon as the late Steve Irwin came on the scene, everyone started turning into Australians. Apparently the qualifications go something like this, "If you will enter the field of Zoology you must be from down-undah." What triggered this thought was when I recently heard the news about the shark that attacked Nari, the beloved bottle-nosed dolphin of Tangalooma, in Queensland. I heard it on the news; and there they were all speaking Australian. I guess that's only reasonable and expected since it happened there in Australia, but hearing that made me think about it. Alot of times when I hear interviews about animals, or more specifically, marine wildlife, the expert is an Australian. Maybe they all just like animals more than we do. Or maybe there's big money in that sort of business down there. Whatever be the case, it's still intriguing. And now, seeing the time, I leave you to ponder.

Wouldn't it be cool if you could breathe through your ears?

That thought just popped into my head while I was riding in the back seat of my brother's car last night, while he and Claudia and I were heading to Lifehouse Theatre in Redlands. I don't even know what caused that thought to enter my head. I never think about frivolous things, so that's pretty weird. I usually think about important things like homework and cleaning my room.HA I guess the thing that would be so cool about it would be that if you were to get tied up by a robber or someone, and they tried to suffocate you by stuffing your head in a pillow, you would just laugh at them cause they didn't know that you could breathe through your ears. I told that to Preston and Claudia while traveling to Lifehouse and they laughed at me. They don't understand deep thinking. (I just got a leg-cramp right now. ouch... no kidding)

Speaking of Lifehouse, the show last night was about Beauty and the Beast. It was a nice show. The guy who played the Beast was kinda ugly and weird looking though, but I guess he was the only guy, who auditioned for the part, that knew all his lines perfectly. The Beauty, Rose, (which is interesting enough by itself, because her name fit in perfectly with the plot of the play. The reason that they got into the whole mess with the beast to begin with was over a rose flower, and that's funny because that happened to be the main character's name too.) Anyway, Rose wasn't bad either.

They did alot of singing and dancing in the play too, which was kinda weird. But I'm glad I went. Every time I go to Lifehouse, it reinforces my 2/3 timing on the drums. Boom chuck chuck, Boom chuck chuck, Boom chuck chuck, etc... ("Chuck", "Chick", it all depends on how the snare is tuned, I usually end up with a "chuck" snare, but I don't mind. As long as it doesn't go "boom" like a tom, then I'm okay with it) They enjoy singing to that beat there at Lifehouse though, apparently, which is nice I guess.

As the end of the show began to come to a close, I remembered that I thought that the Beast died in the story for some reason. I thought maybe he fell off a cliff or his porch or something tragic like that. I asked Donavon and he said no, but that he and Rose got married in the end. I said I remembered that too, but I thought the Beast had to die first, then he would resurrect miraculously as some handsome prince and then they'd get married. He looked at me and laughed. So toward the end of the show, sure enough, the Beast was in the woods fighting wolves when he got wounded and died. Or at least it looked like he died. His kitchen utensils and stove and broom and closet were all gathered around him crying and mourning for him. Then Rose, the girl who played Beauty, came and cried and told him she loved him. Then the lights all started flashing really quickly as he turned into a nice prince, and it was inferred that they got married eventually, but they didn't have time for the wedding, for it was already 9:30 pm, and I had to get up early in the morning to go to work.

Oh, I also met a lady that works there at Lifehouse Theatre as a makeup assistant I think, with the same name as my mom, Vicki Brown, same spelling and everything. Cool huh? She was nice and said she'd like to meet my mom. It would've been perfect, but her husband's name wasn't Carl, like my dad's. It was Dave. That was kind of a bummer. Her daughter was Beauty in the play.

Anyway, the drama was pretty satisfactory all the way around. About 20 or so of us College and Carear class kids went. That spelling error just reminded me of a wise saying I heard long, long ago, by someone who was giving advice to another who was thinking about his future, where to work, etc. His words are those with which I would like to leave to you as my parting words. "Whilst sliding down the banister of life, try not to get a splinter stuck in your career."