A Handful of Dreams

I got my hair cut and colored today. This crappy picture doesn’t do it justice, but my stylist was particularly inspired this time. It’s a gorgeous shade of red. He did two shades of pre-lightening for highlights and then put red dye in all my hair. It’s pretty awesome.

I went and got props for the photobooth at my sister’s wedding. And I think I found the best one. Oh yes.

Snooki wig!

Oh, sorry, “Guidette Wig.” Right, iParty, you’re really fooling us with that one.

Speaking of which?

“Festive Fern Lei?”

Yeah, those are so supposed to be pot leaves. Although I do love the idea of someone’s grandma going, “Oh, I love ferns!” and wearing them to a luau.

Anyone want to see photos of some of the other props?

Also, how much would you pay me to wear this thing to work tomorrow? Or out to a bar some night?

PS: It is ridiculously difficult to take a Snooki picture.

PPS: Especially when you have a moral objection to making duck faces.

PPS: And you’re not orange.

Well, I survived the surgery with my gums (mostly) intact. It was a pleasant surprise that it wasn’t as painful as I thought that it would be… at least until the Novocain wore off.

The oral surgeon was nicer than most of my dentists have been. He swabbed the area where he injected Novocain with a topical gel. And then, once he’d given me the Nococain, he waited a few minutes and then gave me another injection to make sure that everything was completely numb. Of course, he did brace his hand on my eyeball while patching me up, so I guess we can call it a wash.

The procedure itself was not as bad as in my worst imaginationings (granted, I have an extremely vivid imagination). It involved quite a few more pieces of bloody gauze than I had anticipated, but I didn’t feel a thing. I won’t go into any more details. Because, well, you know, gross.

When the surgery was done, I was handed two ibuprofen and instructed to avoid strenuous activities and prolonged sun exposure (so much for my plan to spend all day today doing calisthenics in our hammock). I steadfastly maintain that any procedure that involves having bits of you cut out and then sewn onto you elsewhere should really come with some better drugs than ibuprofen. Or more than two ibuprofen.

I’m still in a decent amount of pain (the ibuprofen! she does nothing!) and I was up until about 3am last night, but I think I’m turning a corner. I ate actual food today and I managed to not slobber most of it on myself. I’m glad that I took today off to recuperate and I just might spend a good chunk of the weekend keeping it up. My only regret is that I’ve cleared out a good chunk of what was on the tivo.

Let’s all hope that I feel better tomorrow!

At 2pm this afternoon, I’m having gum surgery. I’d ask you all to think good thoughts for me, but I’m not sure if I want to force you all to contemplate my gums. Besides, the dentist claims that this will be relatively painless and I am steadfastly attempting to believe him. He also claims that the only thing I won’t be able to eat for the next week or so is sandwiches. I’m still, however, preparing myself to consume a lot of smoothies.

I’ve decided to view this whole gum surgery business as a forced break from all of the running around that I’ve been doing lately. I have nothing planned for tonight except to lie on the couch, drink a smoothie and watch some stupid TV. And then, I’m taking the day off tomorrow and I’m not getting up from the couch unless nature calls or the house is on fire. And even then it’s negotiable.

I ate an apple with my breakfast this morning, just to eat crunchy foods while I still can. I haven’t decided what to eat for lunch yet. Maybe some taffy. Perhaps some biscotti. How about some broken glass?

Does anyone have any recipes for vodka smoothies? :p

You know you’re a supremely excellent Maid of Honor when…

You get this photo in a batch of potential wedding slideshow photos from a family member and say to yourself, “Not only should I put this is in the slideshow, I also feel that it is my solemn duty to upload this to Facebook and my blog.”

Also, it’s a fantastic idea to constantly refer to your toast as a “roast” and to request your own bottle of champagne so that you can swig directly from it whilst roasting the bride.

I have a sneaking suspicion that my sister is going to wish that she had chosen an ugly dress. Preferably one with a butt-bow.