web-goddess

Wisdom Schmisdom…
I had a consultation with an oral surgeon this morning, and good ol’ Dr. Wong’s expert opinion is that I need to have all four wisdom teeth extracted. Fun! Apparently it’s really close; I only need like 3mm more to be able to fit them in. Damn! So then we had the discussion about whether I’d have it done in the chair (with a local anesthetic, i.e. needles) or in the hospital (with a general anesthetic, i.e. unconscious). I was wavering. I’m not a big baby or anything, and I can take my fair share of pain… but somehow I’m not sure I like the idea of watching as they remove bits from my head. He gave me the difference in cost though, and that pretty much settled it. The chair will run me $200 total; the hospital would be more like $700. So I’m booked in. Now I just have to wait four months til my appointment. (I’ve been happy with our HCF coverage so far, but these long waits are getting a bit ridiculous. I guess it’s only fair given that I’m not really in an emergency situation or anything.)

I give up. I’ve spent three days ransacking my photo collection in search of a particular picture… and I can’t find it. See, it was just about nine years ago that I arrived at Notre Dame and met a goofy blonde who was destined to become my Roomater. We quickly got bored with Orientation Weekend activities but Eileen had an idea: “Let’s teepee Jon Ford!” Jon Ford was a guy from her high school that was also starting at ND, and his family had driven down some of Eileen’s crap in their car. She’d been given his room key to go pick it up. Together with Erin Fair, we nabbed a couple industrial-size rolls of toilet paper from PW and headed over to Stanford. (Or was it Keenan?) We nonchalantly strolled into the dorm and oh-so-casually ascertained that neither he or his roommate were in their room. Then we went nuts. We completely swathed that room in toilet paper. (And as we’d all only just moved in, there wasn’t a lot else in there.) Giggling like mad, I turned to snap a picture of Reen and Fair amidst the TP just before we left. Later that night, we came home from the dining hall to discover our first official dormroom voicemail message: “Eileen: YOU’RE DEAD.” And thus was my introduction to Jon Ford*… who has recently joined Reen and I as a blogger. And that’s why I was looking for the picture. I figured, what better way to welcome him to the “blogsphere” than to virtually teepee him with a momento of our first college prank?

* For some reason, Jon Ford was nearly always addressed by my acquaintance with his full name, much like “Dawson Leery.” I have no idea why. Seriously, you guys, that photo has to be around here somewhere. Or maybe it’s still in Mom’s basement? This is gonna drive me nuts.

Somebody called us late last night. I remember hearing the phone ring in my dream and then suddenly being aware that I wasn’t dreaming, and that it was definitely ringing. So I leapt to my feet – scaring the crap out of the cat – and rushed to the office, banging into walls and knocking stuff off shelves (I didn’t think to grab my glasses)… only to miss the call. They didn’t leave a message. Middle of the night calls always make me think somebody has died. I rang my Mom right away but she said it wasn’t her, and there are only so many members of my family who know how to dial internationally. DID YOU CALL ME? IDENTIFY YOURSELF.

While I’m still definitely in the camp of Those Who Scoff at the Current Ridiculously Popular Knitting Trend for Stupid Boleros, Capelets, and Shrugs… I could almost see myself wearing this. Almost.

The Snook and I decided to be non-carnivores tonight so we made up a batch of clare‘s dudhi channige. It’s basically a sort of lentil curry. We subbed in red lentils (since we didn’t have any chana dal) and, as per Clare’s substitution, sweet potato and carrot for the bottlegourd. Yummy! Oh, but I forgot to get fresh chilies, so we didn’t really have any. It was still good, but I could sense how it’s gonna be great next time…

Selective blindness.
I’ve just realized that there’s been a bottle of maple syrup sitting on my living room coffee table for, like, three weeks. See, right there on CouchCam! This is what comes of liking pancakes too much.

Sports Illustrated presents Famous Sports Collisions. Yow. I was sorta flicking through like “Yep… yep…” until I got to this one, which stopped me DEAD IN MY TRACKS. Just how in the world does a catcher end up like that?

These links are definitely not safe for work (nor my parents), but AskMetafilter has been dispensing some pretty interesting sex advice lately. Just so you know.

I was all excited to get in on the iPod class action lawsuit and claim my $25… til the Snook pointed out that I never had a battery issue with my first gen player. In fact, when I tested mine after two years of use, it was still playing for eleven hours off one charge. Three-and-a-half years on, it’s still chugging along for Amy. I’d definitely say that was my best Apple purchase ever in terms of value for money. We’ve played the hell out of that thing.

Not again. Old people + knitting shop with curved staircase = grannies flyin’ all over the place. It’s like that Eddie Murphy sketch where he imitates his Aunt Bunny falling down the stairs. BOOM BOOM CRASH – “Oh Lord, help me!” – CRASH THUMP BOOM… (I’m not being that callous. Nobody’s been seriously hurt. They’re just too entranced with the wool to watch where they’re going.)