Thats What She Said

I'm supposed to be doing something else right now.

Do you know what is great about being on drugs? May 14, 2007

Filed under: *brain cloud — thats what she said @ 11:05 am

It totally lowers people’s expectations of you.  Like, maybe when you WEREN’T on drugs people would expect you to go to work, or update your blog, or wash your face or something.  Perhaps even NOT WEAR THE SAME FLANNEL PANTS WITH THE SNOWFLAKES ON THEM FOR FOUR DAYS RUNNING.  But as soon as you start popping those pills they’re all ‘Here, have a seat!  Let me wipe your face!  Pudding?’.  BEING ON DRUGS IS THE BEST THING EVER!*

I had made all sorts of elaborate post-surgery plans—pre-drugs, of course—and even a list of things to pick up at the drugstore after the surgery, in case I was feeling so loopy I tried to convince T-Bone to let me buy an inflatable pool for my living room or something.  The list looked like this:

  • Squirt
  • Terrible, terrible book (Qty 2)

Sadly I was totally coherent after the procedure.  At least, that is my recollection.  T-Bone?  Can you back me up on this?  Anyway I don’t remember trying to buy anything crazy at Bartell’s, which is a damn shame because there are often some crazy-ass people hanging out in Bartell’s, and this was my chance to be one of them!  Alas—total, total failure to crazy-it-up. 

As for the rest of the afternoon, and the following 3 days…well, what can I say?  Grandmaster Flash spent the first day with me, and he even brought his laptop like I asked him to so that I could send out a LIVE! Account of Operation Yank ‘Em Out.  Instead I forced him to watch Terms of Endearment with me AND some horrible movie involving prisoners and gardening and British people.  Poor poor Grandmaster Flash. 

(Also—don’t tell anyone but I think he is afraid of Winston Churchill!  The Winster seemed fascinated by GmF’s bald head—voluntarily bald, ladies!  (I got your back GmF—except for that whole part where I told everyone you are afraid of my tiny cat…umm…so yeah.  Except for this part.)—but anyway, Winston kept trying to smell GmF’s head, GmF kept flinching away like he was going to be RIPPED APART AT ANY MOMENT, and I kept laughing.  And then crying, because Debra Winger was totally too young to die, OMG where is the justice?!)**  

So in recap, I did not post from my couch.  I did not take pictures of my hilariously swollen cheeks, but then, my cheeks never really…swelled hilariously.  Or something.  All in all having my teeth yanked out of my head was pretty uneventful, and I feel mostly OK, although I’d love me a pizza right now.  But I promise you this, Internet—there are sure to be much more exciting (read: much gorier!) medical ‘situations’ in my future, possibly involving parasites, and I will TOTALLY write about them.  Are you just breathless with anticipation?

Until then…

 Oh actually—one more thing.  The tooth removal people asked me if I wanted my teeth, and I said yes, mostly because I just wanted to have a look at them but also because I felt like maybe it was rude to refuse or something.  Is there etiquette for these situations?  I mean, quite a lot of effort was exerted to get at those little buggers, not to mention MONEY and so I figured I should hold on to them, but now I have this…bag of teeth.  That I am not sure what to do with.  Did anyone else keep their teeth?  Should I make some sort of necklace, or perhaps decoupage them onto a lovely picture frame?  Has Martha ever done a segment on this?  Can I just throw them away now?  I have sort of the same issue with greeting cards.  I mean, someone went to all the trouble of getting it for me…but what am I really going to do with it?  If you have any tips, let me know. 


*Hey kids—obviously I jest.  Don’t do drugs, ever, as they are very very bad and will lead only to misfortune and eventual death.  Probably. 

**I apologize for the complete lack of grammatical structure in this paragraph.  And GmF is afraid of kittens!  

***This last note is apropo of nothing—I just want to give a GIANT THANKS to all the lovely folks out there who contributed to me getting to be on drugs for four days.  Thanks all.  Really really.   


9 Responses to “Do you know what is great about being on drugs?”

  1. T-Bone Says:

    Can I just say that I am waiting in excited anticipation of full, graphic reports of the parasites. Maybe after all that you will be utterly unaffected by my frequent use of “phlegm”?

    And just for the record everyone, she was so okay the assistant told me not to be fooled and overestimate her abilities. I think forcing her to walk arm and arm with me around 45th Street afterwards was unnecessary. But fun!

  2. Dr. Jones Says:

    as for the teeth, they had to essentially “shatter” my teeth when they took them and did not even offer a glance at the end. i would’ve liked to have said goodbye. it’s the only surgery i’ve ever had. as for the greeting cards, i say burn them. i end up keeping them around for a few months or years and then i recycle them. and by recycle i mean put them out by the curb. oh sure, there are a few that i will keep forever, but mostly it’s just clutter. and one last thought, ha ha ha to good old grandmaster flash! scared of a little kitten! ha!

  3. Kit Kat Says:

    Yeah, GmF is a jumpy guy. He’s also afraid of matches. But his bald head is quite handsome, really. Also, when I was a kid I had several teeth pulled and I saved them all in a little silver cup on my bookshelf. Writing that out now it sounds a little creepy, no? They are probably still at my parents house somewhere.

  4. Kit Kat Says:

    God, I mean parents’. I hate it when people forget apostrophes, and here I am doing it.

  5. Do you know what I love about my friends? I LOVE that on more than one occasion they have left additional comments correcting spelling/grammar errors from previous comments. Like they just CANNOT HANDLE the thought of any more poor syntax existing in the world than is absolutely necessary. (I’m not sure WHEN exactly poor grammar WOULD be necessary. But that is besides the point.) How they put up with the continuous massacre of the English language that IS this website, I’ll never know.

  6. T-Bone Says:

    I typed “imagine” instead of “image” in one of my comments a few days ago. As soon as I clicked “submit comment” I noticed it and cringed in an extended moment of horror. I’m glad I am now getting it off my chest. Sigh.

  7. Grandmaster Flash Says:

    First of all, I wouldn’t say I’m any more jumpy than anyone else would be when faced with the possibility of being inflicted with a deep head wound via razor sharp claws and spiky, tiger-esque teeth. Secondly, Kit Kat, I don’t recall ever being afraid of matches…it’s the fire that’ll burn you. Though, I can’t argue with the “…bald head is quite handsome…” comment; that’s pretty spot on.

  8. Kit Kat Says:

    OK, you’re afraid of LIGHTING matches. And yes, I am totally, totally anal about punctuation.

  9. Well at least I know that no matter how much Winston may terrify you he’s safe from being set on fire. Unless you manage to get your hands on a lighter or something.

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