Thanksgiving, Wisdom Teeth, and The Late Hector Kipling

Thanksgiving was actually enjoyable even though it was just Gary and I. He decided to let me off the hook for cooking so, he bought us dinner at Cracker Barrel. The food was great but I had a bit of anxiety. Surprisingly, when we entered the restaurant, it was packed to the outside. We had to wait 45 minutes, which I am patient (sometimes) and that didn’t bother me. Crowds tend to make me a bit on the edge and jumpy. I found a quiet corner to sit in that no one else was around but the masses found said corner and invaded my territory. Luckily, our names were called about the same time.

I prayed for a lot of things over the meal. I am thankful for my family, friends, the troops overseas, and I am thankful for the server we had. His name was Kyle, who is a friend of a friend of mine named Jordan. He didn’t know me but I can see why they’re best friends. He was nothing but kind and had a smile on his face. The workers on Thanksgiving truly deserve props because, alas, they have to either block a display or serve a couple their Thanksgiving meal. I think everyone’s job is important: no matter if you’re a McDonald’s worker or the guy that works behind a counter at a gas station. If it’s honest work, there should be no shame in it and no one should ever make one feel bad for the field they’re in. I rant about that at the moment because I see the nasty looks that people give workers in those positions. I find it rather despicable.

I just wanted to throw out a little blog about what I’m thinking at the moment. My thought? I’m in a lot of bloody pain at the moment. All four of my wisdom teeth have decided to make their presence known in my mouth at the moment. For this reason, I believe my body is ridiculously stupid. I had braces because I had the teeth of a piranha when I was younger. The lovely quips from my classmates on them were so sweet, I remember them to this day. Jerks.

Anyways, contrary to popular belief: I have a small mouth. It’s true! I had to have two teeth removed (the ones after the canines) because my mouth is too small for the amount of teeth I have. And what happens some 13 years or so later? More teeth decide to pop in. My. body. is. ridiculous.

The ones on the lower are pushing in to the others and I want to pop my jaw or something to alleviate the pain. However, the dentist said I wasn’t supposed to do that. Honestly, though, when is the last time I’ve listened to anyone? I’m stubborn. I’m shy. I’m me. The top ones are just cut through and annoying me greatly. I need someone to drive me to the doctor to get them taken out because I’ll be most high from the drugs. I could say anything random which shouldn’t be too different from my normal personality.

Sorry this one is so short but I really am going to attempt sleep. I like to wimp out on my pain that way. Unconsciousness is sounding pretty good right about now.

Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving and God bless you all.

Oh. I just purchased David Thewlis’ book “The Late Hector Kipling”. I read the first Chapter for free and it is interesting(it is legal, they let you do it on Barnes and Noble so don’t be suing me. I’m poor enough!).

The man has skills and he’s funny. When I’m done with it, I’ll do some kind of review over it. I find that if I ever met him (which is incredibly doubtful because I don’t get out much), I couldn’t actually tell him what I think of him. It’d come out more like, “Derp da do DA I ruve you”. And make an ass out of myself. Normal for me but probably not a good first and last impression. Plus, he’s tall and I’m short(5’3 but if I stand up straight maybe 5’4ish). Tall people intimidate me.

I’m very strange. I better go to bed now. I’m rambling again. And I’m in freaking pain, damn it.

Love you all!

~Susan

Here’s a picture of something pretty:

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