Oh, little ones!
It has been so long! And after I swore to post about all my gustatory adventures! I am Jewish-guilting myself, don’t you worry. But you must understand, there is a perfectly legitimate explanation: I had both wisdom teeth on the left side of my mouth removed. Ca douille!!! Yes, yes. Right after it was pronounced that my refusal to floss has indeed had negative ramifications on my pearly whites (a raging case of gingivitis), it was also discovered that I needed two impacted wisdom teeth removed, and pronto! You see, El Paso dental work is notoriously bad, so I needed to get the extraction taken care of before leaving New York, New York. And I did. And I was stoned. So, so stoned. So I didn’t write. Mais je suis là de nouveau, so don’t you fret your pretty little heads!
The actual surgery wasn’t overly traumatic at all. They made me too high on the Nitrous Oxide initially, by my standards, and I was convinced I was going to die because my heart seemed to be beating way too fast, although I could hear the heart monitor beeping regularly. Definitely a weird experience. Anyway, they brought me down a touch, obviously just in time for me to feel the commencement of the surgery. So then they blasted me into the stars, and I got the laughing syndrome belatedly. Once they had successfully mangled my mouth, and I was flying VERY VERY high, the dentist and I began quibbling over semantics. Even when I’m drugged! I asked if my having a lunch date the next day would be impossible or ill advised. He told me I would be fine for my date. I told him it was a LUNCH date, with a girl (even stoned I remember my solitary fate), and that it’s an expression! He excused himself.
They sequestered me in the “healing room” to monitor my swelling, at which point the nurse who had assisted in my surgery asked me if there are many lizards in Marfa. Really, I swear! Apparently, she has a debilitating phobia of lizards, she doesn’t understand why they were created, and she has to plan her travels with the specific intent of avoiding them. She recounted a story about the time a patient came in wearing a lizard printed outfit (seriously), and she couldn’t perform the surgery until they had covered this poor soul entirely in napkins to block out the evil reptiles! You can only imagine how this processed in my very, very intoxicated brain. To say the least, it ignited my predisposition to laugh, because cackle away I did. All the way home in the cab with my dad, to the point that he started chuckling hysterically too. Luckily, I began to feel pain almost instantly, which meant that I got hopped up on painkillers immediately after the surgery and almost never felt any pain after that point. My dad and I stopped for a moment at a deli to buy water so that I could take some Codeine, and, unfortunately, they happened to be playing some very soulful and rhythmic music. It took every once of reason left in my drug-addled brain not to break out wildly into interpretive dance, to refuse my limbs the irresistible pleasure of thrashing and bumping the way they so desired. But, high as I was, my kindness and compassion remained intact, and I remembered that it would be a visual danger to humanity if I danced.
Fearing the terrible stomach upset associated with painkillers, I grabbed some Kefir the moment I got home. My face by this time was, uh, chipmunk-ish to the extreme, and I had not yet recovered the nervous or muscular control on the right side of my moth. Except I didn’t know this. So, I took a huge swig of the effervescent dairy product, and scared the shit out of myself when a thick ribbon of white stuff came spewing out of my mouth. I didn’t really get it, so I took another sip, only to have it pop energetically out of the right side of my mouth again. But I’ve been relatively alright: Vicodin is a most wonderful drug, particularly in combination with aged Burgundy wine and cheeses. Apparently, even with a mangled mouth, I am steadfast in my snacking ways… I don’t know if that’s sad or glorious.That’s about all the hilarity associated with my dental destruction. I’m off Codeine now and have landed back on earth, so now I am just tender and wounded, waiting for my stitches to magically dissolve in that way that they do.
Now I’ve returned to Marfa, land of lizards, and am again snuggly in my house, sporting my sky blue fleece pants with multi-tonal blue polka dots tucked into my high socks (i.e. being the shrivelly old mole lady that I am, chastity belt fastened tightly, resplendently unshaven, and be-speckled in an outbreak of travel-induced rosacea). Ahhhhh, happiness…
I must rest a bit, but I shall return shortly to fill you in on all my recent cooking endeavors and send out my brand spanking new recipes!
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