Google It Yourself! On Second Thought, Don’t.

Here’s one fast way to freak yourself out.

Stay up until 2 a.m. googling jaw surgery patients and their recovery efforts. The best case scenario for post-op photos is a marshmallow with a face.

Then, because you like committing to masochism, sign up for the Yahoo! Groups support network for jaw surgery recipients of the past, present, and future, complete with mailing list.

Then read all the emails you get straight to your inbox about the latest crisis in genioplasty and orthognathic procedures gone wrong. Here’s what these measures will not do—numb you right up.

Also mild depression is required and expected during the recovery process.


A crust is required to make a standard pie.

Prealgebra is required to take Algebra.

Why are hopelessness and black thoughts mandatory for a puffy head framed by an ice donut who can only stomach lukewarm baby foods dribbled in through its nostrils (nostrils, as in the back-up to a functional mouth)?

Oh, I guess I just answered my own question.

Heehoo wah.

Also people on this mailing list keep referring to how they feel good about their new face one day and mad about it another day (depending on the day I guess), and it’s creepy as futz.

Blogging Right Along

Hiya scamps,

September NBC blog is up and at ’em (them as in the precious gnomes who control the Internet).

Also, I discovered 12-year-old, fashion forward blogger Tavi @ Style Rookie today!

photo courtesy of Style Rookie

She makes my heart sing hence the squeal out.

I can’t imagine having started blogging at an earlier age though ask me about journaling, and you’ll need to book at least three weeks ahead of time in order to start absorbing the high-impact volumes of retro-angst alone.

And even if I had discovered blogging early, I’m sure I wouldn’t have had a quarter near the wit and wisdom this little sass attack manages to produce au naturale.

The point is, stroll on over there and at least remember what it’s like to be young. This kid-lady’s got Artist’s Way in the bag.

She’s gotten plenty of good and bad press already so I’m not going to add anything intelligent except that I think she’s delightful. It also sounds like she is occasionally looked at askance in school (7th grade, y’all) for having such modish sensibilities, but then she has crowds of Team Tavi fans all over the world. Imagine having an army of hipsters at your beck and call. The world would be your clove-smoking oyster dive bar.

Finally, my boyfie has this button in his car that is supposed to dispense wiper fluid, but as there is no wiper fluid to distribute, it just makes this sad, howling noise, much like a lost whale or a mourning dinosaur.

The best thing to do, we’ve discovered very recently, is to push the button and dramatically lipsync the part of the melodramatic beast to the dirgelike sound. (Especially when another car commits some wrongdoing. Justice has been served.)

The saddest dinosaur of all
photo courtesy of Flickr and Tommy and Georgie

Secondhand Siren

Pwning Up to My Shortcomings

Wow, I don’t know how things work apparently.

I was taking swigs from a jug of Gatorade this morning while driving to work.

Granted, I knew, I just knew, that being mobile while drinking power beverages without straws has led to past tragedies such as Lap Full ‘o Sporty Fruit Punch Unleashed, or alternately, Thirst-quenched Gear Shift 2: Back in the Habit.

Interestingly enough, this time, there were no incidents.

Then, in the office, not more than two seconds ago, I stood up and made an executive decision to refresh myself with a divine sip of the electrolyte ambrosia, and next thing you know, it’s all over my face and front part.

There’s something about the “stop tipping the bottle once you’ve closed your mouth” step that I just can’t quite master.

O rly.

See also CAMMAN!

Never Say Never

Jenna Jameson just moved and inspired me with some words; I even got that kind of shortness of breath and heart-clenchy feeling.

Ah, the power of holding a microphone. It does wonders!