Writer, Artist, Wondergeek
Saving the world...one snarky panic attack at a time.
.png)
.png)
.png)
.png)
.png)
The ER is not the best place to spend the holidays.
Especially twice.
On a related note, Hiss and I are both expected to be fine, eventually,
although the gal is putting up rather more fuss about taking meds than I
am. No one has had to headlock me, while I pathetically drool a massive
pile of yuck and keep spitting out the make-you-better pills in stubborn spite.
Not yet anyway.
I'll start you with a short simple one, and if you're interested, I'll post more. If the response is deadly silence or crickets retching, I'll get bored and go do something else.
ps. Answer key is linked to from the puzzle
Of course, my gums feel like they've been worked over by a cheesegrater. Now, they say this merciless carving of your tissue is about testing for gum disease. But I wonder, just how you fail?
Does it *not* hurt so bad that you need to avoid food for days? Do you wince out of the chair for the last time and just announce, screw it, I choose gum disease? Or is it when they rip into you with that crochet-needle-come-shiv and you go white and spray blood like a featured player in Evil Dead?
No matter. I just wish they'd stop threatening to take my teeth. See, I still have one of my four wisdom teeth, and they keep eyeing it greedily. Plus, the hygentist always complains about 'crowding' and 'nook and crannies', which sadly, seems to make it harder to rake off my gum tissue. So they have suggested more than once that they rip out some teeth and give me braces.
Really.
There must be some extremely rich, extremely vain people out there, who are really INTO desperate horrible agony...But you know, what with them knowing how my wisdom tooth extraction (the other 3) was done by a hack 'specialist' they sent me to, who broke my teeth out of my mouth when I wasn't frozen, with staff holding me down as I broke my fingernails clutching the chair and cried and pleaded to be numbed, so that people heard me screaming even outside the frickin building, giving me nightmares that will last as long as my grey matter is functioning. Oh, and a post-op infection and broken clots and four more weeks of constant hellish pain for bonus giggles.
Frankly, you'd think they would just, for the love of all that's fresh and moldy, STFU and be glad I suck up the panic attacks and let anyone near my dang teeth.
My nippers. I'm keeping them. We'll call them spares.
Original Nature Photography
The bluejays and the crows gave hearty compliments to the baker this morning.
The crows, as always, were all over the ends we put out this am. Snork!
But then this poor little bluejay arrives a click too late for wheatfest, and he was hopping around looking so glum that I had to scramble and break open a fresh loaf for him, before my heart bled all over the floor. 'Cause you know that leaves a mark.
Of course, the crows were all over the new bits too, but the little guy got right in there and managed to filch himself a chunk. Yea little guy!
Now, stop jittering around like a finch with a nerve disorder so I can get your dang picture...
(pixelation brought to you by Picasa)
Phoenix, watching the sun go down.
This photo session was on the eve of his terrifying surgery back in February, so I wasn't just rolling around on the floor thinking how wonderfully beautiful and special he is, but trying very hard not to cry.
Oh, I wanted to cry, I needed to cry.
But he hates it when I cry.
(And yes, I'm still thanking the all that the scary lump tested benign...)
(pixelation brought to you by Picasa)
Hissyfit, glowing. Natural lighting captured at sunset.
"Any girl can be glamourous. All you have to do is stand still and look stupid." --Hedy Lamarr
With girly, the epic endlessly thwarted challenge is entirely in the still part.
(pixelation brought to you by Picasa)
