Post #1

So, if you think this is a bit of eloquent blogging about my respect for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his vision of a future, colorless America...

... you're wrong.

This is about me and my screwed-up head.

Wednesday night was a date night for me and the Ty-man. We started off with dinner at the Right Wing Tavern, a political-themed restaurant. I had "The Byrd" (Sen. Robert Byrd - you da man - and your feta/sundried tomato stuffed chicken breast ain't too shabby, either!) and I accompanied said dish with a Cosmo. 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 bad 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.

The evening progressed with coffee, books, and home to bed. Then, the dreaming began.

You know how you get zits, really large, hard, painful zits, at the edge of your jawbone?

Really? You don't get those? It's just me?

Go away.

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?

No?

F off. Seriously.

So, that corkscrew zit? Well, that's what this was. Except instead of puss it was a snake. 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.

And the weird thing? My jawbone actually hurt. 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.

No more Cosmos for me!