There are Plastic Objects in my Nose

While there are a great many worse things in the world, recovering from septum surgery is not a great way to spend a weekend.

There are high points in the form of much good DVD watching… since Friday I have watched what may have been my favorite Doctor Who episode yet, The Girl In The Fireplace. Of course, it may have been the really awesome painkillers I’m on that enhanced the enjoyment, because I can tell you that my love for the world knows no bounds when I’ve taken a couple of those pills. Israel and Palestine should definitely take a dose of this before heading into peace talks; We could have solved that problem years ago.

I also tried out the Netflix Instant Play downloadable movie option and watched Welcome to the Dollhouse, which was okay. I knocked out terracinque recommended film, Sullivan’s Travels which was funny and also explained the title to the Coen Bros.’ Oh, Brother Where Art Thou. My brother’s girlfriend loaned me her Heroes, Season 1 DVD set, which I watched straight, all the way through, to the last episode. Which may explain why I’m certain that the plastic things in my nose are some sort of implant from a secret organization out to destroy New York City.

I’m told the surgery went well, and thus far recovery has gone according to plan, so that’s all good. I won’t get the benefit of results until next week or later. In fact, I’m going to remain in this Super Congested state until Thursday when they remove the Plastic Objects from my nose.

Regardless, even with the Super Pain Killers, it’s a very uncomfortable way to be. Lots of gross maintenance of bandages and whatnot. The skin of my cheeks are raw from the gauze tape being ripped off and reapplied.

Ick. This too shall pass.

Steampunkin’

I think I’ve decided1 that when we remodel our “master” bathroom, it should be done in SteamPunk style.

Apparently, this is going to be easier, as the SteamPunk movement is starting to pop up in mainstream advertisements for sink fixtures.

Copper pipes, pressure and flow gauges, gears for knobs… hmmm.

This person is working towards a SteamPunk home.

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1 Read: “I have decided to try and convince steakums

The Other Me

I think this happens often, the Other You that people you know keep seeing.

My boss told me he saw me driving on Peachtree Industrial in Norcross on Sunday. Except, I wasn’t in Norcross on Sunday. As far as I know.

In order to prove it wasn’t me, I said, “He wasn’t driving a Honda Civic, was he?”

“Well, yes,” my boss replied, “I think he was.”

The power of suggestion. “What color?”

“Black.”

“I drive a black Honda Civic.”

“Well, this was an older one.”

“Old, like late nineties?”

“Yes.”

“I drive a 1997.”

“Are you sure you weren’t in Norcoss yesterday?”

“Yes, pretty sure. Unless I blacked out and went for a drive.”

The Other Me In Atlanta has been seen by others before. Who knew he’s got my car now?

ING! IIIIIIIING!

Okay, I don’t even have the energy to relay the Whole Big Thing with ING but I’d like to reiterate…

Boo, ING Direct, Boo!

The nice man on the phone says we should have our checking account back in action tomorrow. Or, possibly, Thursday.

BOOO!