tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61193092901243609052011-04-21T18:11:11.710-04:00Coal Miner's Granddaughterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14320077738770745217noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119309290124360905.post-16707556603790889492008-04-01T21:04:00.001-04:002008-04-19T13:12:08.133-04:00<span style="font-size:85%;">So, if you think this is a bit of eloquent blogging about my respect for <a href="http://www.thekingcenter.org/" title="a great man" target="_tap">Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.</a> and his vision of a future, colorless America...<br /><br />... you're wrong.<br /><br />This is about me and my screwed-up head.<br /><br />Wednesday night was a date night for me and the Ty-man. We started off with dinner at the <a href="http://www.rightwingtavern.com/www/">Right Wing Tavern</a>, a political-themed restaurant. I had "The Byrd" (<a href="http://byrd.senate.gov/">Sen. Robert Byrd</a> - you da man - and your feta/sundried tomato stuffed chicken breast ain't too shabby, either!) and I accompanied said dish with a <a href="http://www.drinksmixer.com/drink234.html">Cosmo</a>. Now, let me tell you, I'm not a drinker. Not that I'm a teetotaler or anything, but I just don't drink. I don't like the way I feel when I'm drunk and alcohol does <span style="font-weight: bold;">bad</span> things to my insulin levels. So drinking for me is a special, regulated treat. Well, as you can imagine, I was tipsy after two sips. Sheesh.<br /><br />The evening progressed with coffee, books, and home to bed. Then, the dreaming began.<br /><br />You know how you get zits, really large, hard, painful zits, at the edge of your jawbone?<br /><br />Really? You don't get those? It's just me?<br /><br />Go away.<br /><br />Those of you who know what I'm talking about... I dreamt I had one of those huge, nasty zits. So, there I am complaining about this gigantic, painful zit and my mom offers to pop it. You know how you sometimes get zits that when you pop them, the goo comes out in a long, thin corkscrew?<br /><br />No?<br /><br />F off. Seriously.<br /><br />So, that corkscrew zit? Well, that's what this was. Except instead of puss it was a <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">snake</span></span>. Like a fully-formed blackish-gray snake. There I am, completely horrified, holding my jaw with a gaping hole, staring at this snake that has just popped out of my zit.<br /><br />And the weird thing? My jawbone actually <span style="font-style: italic;">hurt</span>. I woke up, clutching my face because it was sore. And for the rest of the night? I would wake up and rub my jaw. And all of yesterday? I would check that part of my jawbone, expecting to feel a giant zit.<br /><br />No more Cosmos for me!</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6119309290124360905-1670755660379088949?l=heathercsspractice.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Coal Miner's Granddaughterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14320077738770745217noreply@blogger.com2