I just created a new daily blog called I Wanna Be Your Dog NYC.
It's really just a reason for me to post photos of all the dogs I meet in the city when I walk around. I hope you enjoy it.
By the way, my mouth is doing great. On thursday, like i mentioned, i got my 2 bottom wisdom teeth removed. This has been something i've been putting off for about 6 years -- since i got my braces taken off when I was about 21 (i had them put on when I was 19 when I got a freelance job and could finally afford braces because before then my parents couldnt afford 'em). I didn't get my wisdom teeth taken out... again, cause my family couldn't afford the procedure, and then I just ignored the fact that they needed to come out until it got to the point where it wasn't avoidable anymore. So my parents chipped in and helped pay for their removal which was really nice. I dont have health insurance or dental insurance, so the $2100 that it cost was a bit hard on the wallet.
Anyway, when I sat in the chair, the oral surgeon -- whom i've never met in my life -- was like "have you ever had sweet gas before?" I told him that I didnt think so, but wasn't positive. He then asked "Have you ever had whip-its? It's kinda like that." And again, I replied that I never have done whip-its, because, well, i havent. Then his really bizarre response to that was "Oh, so you just look like you like to take drugs. I guess that's because you work in the music industry." I smiled uncomfortably, and said "I guess so, Sir. I'm really nervous, so can we please get started?"
It took about 15 minutes to remove the two wisdom teeth, which I soundtracked with "Intervention" by the Arcade Fire. I played the song three times in a row, trying to ignore the slightly aggressive way in which he pricked my cheek with painkiller, almost to prove that I couldnt feel anything... even though I slightly could and was letting him know this by pained grunts every so often.
When we were done, I let him know that Vicoden would possibly not be strong enough. Again, he replied with a somewhat awkward implication that he thinks I'm a drug addict. "Oh yeah, you know from experience that vicoden isn't strong enough for you? How? You take it a lot?"
"No Sir, I've had a couple of rootcanals and so I know this from experience."
"Sure you do. OK, I'll give you something strong."
I mean, the guy did an exray on my mouth. He could see that I clearly wasnt lying.
So after the procedure was done, I was so out of it and weirded out by the experience that I forgot to ask them to call a car for me like Brandon told me to do. So I walked out and staggered along 57th Street with my face swollen, blood dried up in little reseviors leading from my mouth, and an icepack to my face. I tried to hail a cab, but every time I saw one, I wasnt quick enough to get to it before someone else did, and I couldnt call out for one because i couldn't really open my mouth.
My brother Lawrence called with his girlfriend and I told him that I was stuck in midtown without a cab and too fucked up to take a subway. So he drove up and got me from the duane reede I stumbled into to get my meds and took me home.
When Brandon got home he found me face down in a pillow with my butt in the air like an ostrich, screaming in pain. I guess my dr had prescribed me weak pain meds and strong ones, and I took the weak ones thinking they were generic percocets. I started crying for him to find me mashed potatoes cos I was starving. I cried like a baby for a half hour and took some of the other pain meds, the oxycodone, and about 2 hours later I was feeling good enough to go to the Schoolyard Heroes show at the Annex. Obviously, they were amazing... which was a relief. I love that band and nothing was going to keep me from one of their NYC shows.
The next day, the swelling had gotten a whole lot worse, as did the pain. I laid in bed and watched the entire first season of "Greek" which i bought from iTunes and HIGHLY recommend you check out if you can. I then attempted to eat some food for the Yom Kippur fast... which was REALLY hard since i couldnt really chew much. I popped some vikes and headed to Shul for Kol Nidre and I was high as a fucking kite while sitting in the pews with my mom. Oy va voy.