So... I had my wisdom teeth out last friday. I feel no less wise, however. The dentist finally convinced me that it was time and at 40 years old, I guess I've put it off long enough. Although it's not like I've had them since I was 18, I don't think they even showed on XRays until I was in my 30s.

I had the two bottom ones out. I only had 3, the upper-right one doesn't exist. I must be an example of a new, improved mutant strain of Human -- I started evolving away from un-necessary, cave-man relic, body parts.

Anyway, it wasn't too bad. The pain was easily managed the first day with Percocet (yeehaa!) but by Saturday, I was just mega-dosing Ibuprofen. I even manged to eat a normal meal on Sunday night. Monday was OK -- just tired. Took a turn for the worse on Tuesday though -- must have just reacted to the "stress" of healing or something -- I felt like crap and basically crashed after work.

The thing that drives me nuts now though -- other than the general soreness (I feel like someone punched me in the jaw) -- is that I can't eat what I want. I have these two huge caves in my mouth! They fill up with food, which is totally gross, and scares me a bit to be honest. I guess I expected that the surgeon would sew up the holes or something. The one on the right is the worst. I certainly didn't expect to have this huge, gaping, 1/4" wide hole that looks like it reaches about an inch and a half down into my jaw. So now I'm trying to eat food that I don't have to chew alot and can swallow more or less whole or in big chunks. So when I eat, I feel like a Cro-Magnon.
So much for the more evolved human, eh?

Yes, I'm being bad and not writing anything. I have a bunch of stuff TO write about:
Some good books, movies, a new short-throw shifter for The Red Rocket, hell -- I even had my wisdom teeth our last friday. But I just haven't felt like writing.

Oh well, maybe tomorrow.

Meanwhile -- happy 15th birthday to the Hubble Space Telescope:

I just finished reading "Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West"



It was pretty interesting -- and not at all what I expected. It is political, religious, and philosophical with enough of a cynical edge to keep it from being a Tolkeinesque fantasy. The issues and politics could be taken from our own world, giving the reader a bit of flotsam to cling to while pondering the emancipation of talking Animals or the behind-the-scenes intrigue of the ruling government.
Without giving too much away, the story follows the life of a misunderstood and unfortunate girl named Elphaba. The book starts in Oz on the day of her birth. This poor girl, who among other afflictions, is born an unsightly green, and so immediately ostracized by everyone but her parents. Later, we are introduced to her university roommate, Glinda. (Yes, THAT Glinda.) After university, we see Elphaba step out on a unexpected and thought provoking life as a intelligent and politically-driven young woman with passions, loves, fears and a great dislike for water. We see the slow spark of mysticism and sorcery ignite in her life. (and find out where those flying monkeys came from!) But her "witchcraft" is much more a spiritual journey than the spells and curses we saw in the movie. Finally, we watch as her life moves relentlessly towards her doomed encounter with the innocent, misguided Dorothy.
Like the story of the Titanic, the trip is worth it even though we know how it ends.

I haven't read any of L. Frank Baum's original Oz books, so I have no idea if Gregory Maguire is building upon the established Oz, or if he is making up a completely new one. It really doesn't matter though as the story, characters and settings he creates are touchably real.

Been seeing a lot of Rice-boys lately. I always thought Spring was the season of love and young men wanting to get laid. Aren't cars supposed to be part of the look-at-me "attraction" process? Like birds displaying plumage or bucks crashing antlers?

If the cars I've been seeing are any indication, than either there's a lot of frustrated, celibate boys out there, or the young female set has absolutely no taste whatsoever.

Here's some quick examples of why Rice-boys are wrong:






Anyway, to be sure you aren't a Rice-boy, take this test.

My friend Matt -- aka "Monkeyboy" -- thinks that The Red Rocket should be modified to meet his Riceboy standards. Here is his preliminary drawing:


All I can say is: "I don't freakin' think so, Monkeyboy!"