I've returned from my voyages, ready to post more bloggy goodness. Actually, there were no real voyages involved, unless you count dragging myself the three miles to work every day. And sometimes that does seem about as insurmountable as crossing the Rubicon or sailing 'round the Horn, whatever either of those mean.
To tell you the truth, I just didn't feel like writing anything last week. I was nearly incapacitated for two-and-a-half days thanks to the searing pain of a broken tooth. And let me tell you, that was--without a doubt--the worst pain I've ever experienced. Now, granted, I've never experienced the sharpness of passing a kidney stone, the pain of being dismembered or the horror ofchildbirth, but I imagine all of these to rank up there with the pain I experienced last week. No amount of alcohol or drugs could numb the agony I experienced, so I finally broke down and made an appointment with a dentist--randomly choosing one from the directory provided by my insurance provider. I called and made the appointment for the next day, then waited out the rest of the afternoon and evening in the fires of Hell.
I awoke the next morning to find that the pain had subsided, leaving just a tingling ache. By the time for my appointment with Dr. Random Dentist, I suffered not at all, but I went anyhow, eager to get patched up to avoid a recurrence. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that my random dentist was a Negress. That's right--a woman. And an African-American. Of course, since I'd chosen her from the directory, I knew from her name she was a woman, but I wasn't expecting a Nubian princess. I'm not complaining--it's just that you don't see black women dentists every day.
And, to tell the truth, she was a decent dentist, save for the fact that she "suggested" that I get gold crowns and inlaid diamonds in all my teeth. Or as she said, "teef". (Actually, she didn't--I was just being incredibly racist right there. But that's part of the mission of this site--to offend because we love). In the end, there was little she could do for me besides prescribe some Vicodin and tell me to consult a dental surgeon. Bah.
On top of all that pain came another heartache--this one more personal, if you understand my love of my gadgets. My Tivo broke a few weeks back, so--after convincing Tivo, Inc. to give me a free replacement using my Jedi mind tricks--I shipped it back and awaited the arrival of the new one. Last Tuesday, it arrived. I was as giddy as a priest at cub scout camp as I rushed into my apartment and opened the package, hooking it up and readying myself to set it up. If you don't have a Tivo, the first time you turn it on and hook it to the phone line, it takes a few hours to download software updates and whatnot, so I got it hooked up and let it download. Two hours later, it rebooted itself, having received the latest updates and patches. I watched it click off and waited for its welcome screen to reappear. And waited. And waited. Fuck! I thought to myself--another broken one? So I called Tivo. They apologized profusely. They sent another one, which should be here today or tomorrow. And if it's broken as well, I will probably throw it off the balcony. Because, you know, that would be fucking ridiculous.
So, if you're religious, pray for me. And my toof. And my Tivo.