...whichever one of those you'd like to believe....(perhaps all of the above-it's feasible.)
I can't tell you how many times I tried writing in this thing, then wound up spending hours choosing a better design template to make it look better, only to decide after all that trouble that what I was hoping to write wasn't so great anyway (this being the end-all of most writers I suppose.)
But anywho, as you can see, I've finally broken through and decided to take a chance with this new "blog," since actually writing with a pen has become such a daunting and sacred act that can no longer be bothered by my silly thoughts. And as the tooth above illustrates, there's always a crack up in the regimented population line, so I might as well embrace the fact that it may very well be me.
Speaking of teeth, I just lost four. Finally got my wisdom tooth surgery out of the way, and those annoying impactors out of the way, too. I was waiting to get those darned things out all December, but then I was befallen with three weeks of sinusitis, missed the Stromberg Family Xmas Party and the Launch Bowling Event, traveled to Ohio for the holidays, and then went back to NJ to see how things have been rapidly changing without me ever knowing what hit me. All in that order.
I have never had surgery before. I was a little worried going in since I chose to go under and wasn't sure that would be like. Or if I would die. I had nothing to eat for the 24 hours before then since I have no knowledge of surgery prep, except for the small chance that if you DID happen to eat beforehand you can choke to death on your own vomit. Food wasn't worth the risk.
Actually I am unable to eat anything resembling a balanced diet for another week until I heal. Never have I craved donuts and dreamed of cheeseburgers with such fervor. There are gaping holes in my mouth and jaw pain that can only be cured by copious amounts of narcotics.
Basically, if you look at it subjectively, I spent the last five days getting high at home by myself. A Vicodin every 6 hours kept me pretty much conked out most of the afternoon and nights, with some random groggy moments in which I would wake up and feel my way to the kitchen for a nice spoonful of Gerber Banana Baby Food.
The dreams I had while intoxicated were probably the most lucid and epic in awhile. I normally have a habit of dreaming crazily, but the new job and the long hours tend to limit by memory. But oh did I remember these. The strangest thing of all being that they seemed to carry a similar theme of futuristic 80's films. I was convinced at the time (since it's easy to assume things are true while high) that these were films that did in fact exist in reality. Maybe someone could shed some light on my belief:
Ever have a dream that at the time seems like a great idea for a movie, and then on second though hours later you realize how stupid that idea was? Well, this is one of those instances.
The dream started with me having one of the nostalgic, super-8-like moments of remembering an instance in your childhood. I was riding a bike and mom was playing with me outside. We were racing through a forest of tall trees, and as they were going by I could see my mom slicing through the air with a sharp object as if the air itself were made of plastic panes.
It was such a happy moment, and at the time seemed to make so much sense and deliver so much emotion, that the next scene seemed brilliant in juxtaposition: towards the end of the film, in a moment of sadness, I (or the character) would be walking through this forest in the rain, thwacking against the panes of plastic morosely.
It seemed so poignant at the time I dreamt it, and I was convinced that I should make it into an actual film; upon closer examination, I have no idea what the hell I was thinking.
"80's Future Montage"
These dreams literally shot out one after another from the neurons going vicodin-crazy in my brain, so bear with me.
I've just finished dreaming of being in an all-girl kick-ball/hip-hop dancing league when I am transported to a space-age looking hallway. I feel myself forced to walk towards another doorway, where there is a large hangar on the ground open to space, and a robot that shoots at me. I run back the other way, only to be shot dead. But I'm not dead. Another one of my "Rollie-Pollie-Ollie"-esque (or Betty Spaghetti for the older folk) companions steps on me and I am now a part of her body.
We walk into another world which seems like a large conveyor belt enclosed in a giant plastic bubble with other Playskool looking robots going 'round. Then they start mouthing "That's What She Said," only to find that this enables them to mutate and multiply. Suddenly, a light bulb goes on in my sleeping brain and I have realized that this is related to a popular science fiction movie. The DVD screen pops on in front of me and lists three popular 80s future classics, all of which I can't remember now.
Then I am in another world where cars from the 50s float above me in a picturesque setting. There is a small earthquake and a gale force wind, and the cars start to coagulate like the insides of a lava lamp. A Michael J. Fox looking kid meets a genetically engineered girl in pink metal, and they go off together for an adventure. They approach what seems to be a race track, where there is already a small, blue hollow tunnel running its length for a "male" to enter and take a ride. The girl robot twists and pulls the metal piping and makes another pink one for her, and they both enter on their backs as if on a water ride. When they are "launched," there is a plethora of lights and then a black background where the history of the world begins to play in neon before their eyes. I got to the part where they explain who the Egyptian god "Ra" was, and figured I could watch this movie later.
Snap to another dream in which a man impregnates a girl by giving her a necklace resembling a blossom. It turned into an apocalyptic drama with pastry sweets and imagery that looked straight out of a dirty watercolor comic.
* * *
That's as far as I'll go with these descriptions; the more I remember, the less sense it makes, even to me. But you get the idea.
So, while the pain of my teeth (or lack thereof) has subsided, I am still awaiting a normal diet, and thus a normal lifestyle once again. I really wanted some Spaghettios tonight, but every place I went had Chef Boyardee. I'm sorry, but that stuff is just gross. I know I'm angering my Italian ancestors by pledging allegiance to Franco American, but there is no other canned meatball worthy of my praise.
And so, perhaps this explains some of what has been happening over the last month or two. I am hoping that this will make post more often, as this post was hella long and will most likely not be read thoroughly. If you have gotten this far, I commend you.
Please, come again.
.....that's what she said.