In which our heroine views the world from a different angle

I've wanted prescription sunglasses ever since I switched to wearing glasses full time. My eyesight is good enough that I could definitely just wear regular sunglasses without a prescription, but because I have astigmatism (or maybe just because I'm a freak), it gives me a headache and makes me feel sick to my stomach to drive or bike without my glasses on.

I'm going to get my motorcycle license soon, and I really needed some sunglasses, so I went a one-hour glasses place. The lady was very nice and went through her whole spiel about how I needed polarized glasses and all that. I knew that I needed polycarbonate because I was going to be on a bike, so I let her quote it all out for me. I also had a AAA discount. She told me that the AAA discount was $80, and I was thinking, "DAMN that's a good discount." Then she told me that with the discount, it would be $200. Uh. Wha? $200? Okay then, no glasses for Jake.

On a whim, I went to my local club store and asked them to quote out a price for me. For frames that I liked better, polycarbonate polarized lenses, and scratch coating, it came out to a total of $80. Hot DAMN I'm all over that. They told me it would be a 7 to 10 working days, and I didn't care because I was getting sunglasses and they were perfect and CHEAP!

However, this is a Tale of Woe, so you have to know that it goes south somewhere, right? Tuesday was my first day of school as well as Space Kitty's birthday. It was the one day where I didn't have 2 minutes of free time to rub together... and of course, it was the day my glasses came back. Oh well. They're not going away or anything, but delayed gratification sucks sometimes.

Wednesday rolled around, and I went in to get them after work. I was SO excited. I got them, and they needed to be adjusted, so we did that. I walked out and put them on, and it was GREAT. The prescription was perfect, and everything seemed wonderfully clear. They really cut down on the glare a LOT.

I got into my car and closed the door... and noticed that that polarization on my glasses interacted with the tinting on the windows. Instead of the normal neutral tint on my windows, there's a very neat, but a bit distracting iridescent rainbow pattern when I look through my car windows. Now I view the world through rainbow colored glasses, I suppose. I also suppose that I'll get used to it, but until then, I'll have to be VERY careful while driving.

Not much of a Tale of Woe, I suppose, but it calls to mine one of those morality tales where you're granted a wish and it backfires on you.

In which our heroine goes back to school

So school started last night. I hiked up the long and steep hill to my sociology meeting to... wait, time out. I tried to take sociology in spring. I showed up for the meeting, got the add slip, and off I went. However, I forgot to actually add and pay for the class, so even though I had the book and was doing the work, I wasn't really registered and didn't get credit. At least I only wasted a couple of weeks on that. So, I figured I'd take it this semester with the same professor because the book I had bought was customized to him. So, I hiked up the long and steep hill to the meeting, and found that the professor was ill and in the hospital and would probably be replaced for the semester. Uh, d'oh? Hopefully they'll still use the same book, but if not, that's $60 down the drain, or I get to wait yet ANOTHER semester to take it. Just an inconvenience, but irritating. I mean, the poor man is in the hospital. I should try to find a little kindness in my blackened soul, you know?

I went to my next class, which... well, let's not mince words: I don't think I belong in it. At my JC, you have to take an essay test to be placed into english. They put me into the class BELOW freshman english. Nevermind that I've actually passed freshman english at another JC. For a variety of reasons, I don't want to transfer my transcripts over, so I'm stuck with where they placed me. So, I told myself that I needed to take the lower-level english class just to get it over with, or I needed to find out a way to get into the regular freshman english using my transcripts. I bit the bullet and registered for the lower-level english class. I decided that I could definitely use some polishing with my writing (and no, this isn't an example of my best writing. This is just a braindump), so I'm trying to keep a positive attitude about the whole thing. You can look up the required books before class even starts, so I ordered the books online to save some money. Turns out the listing wasn't quite thorough, and one of the books I ended up with isn't quite the right version, and another one of the books I got... well, I didn't need to spend 1/2 as much as I did on it. Damn college textbooks.

The kicker: One of the books is a vocabulary workbook. I'm flipped through the book, and was able to provide a clear and cogent definition for all except one of the words. Seriously. Oh well. At least I'll have it out of the way and will be able to take Astronomy next semester.

Random thoughts for August

First off, can I just say how happy I am that the summer is at a close? Man, I do NOT like the heat. The only thing I do like is that the sun is up for a lot of hours. But I don't like having to water the hell out of my lawn to keep it from dying, using the air conditioner, and sweating. Bleh. Bring on the rain and gloom, say I!

School is starting for me today. I went over my general ed courses that I needed to take yesterday, and found out that a course I took for GE is no longer acceptable as a fine arts credit. I took the class because it would be fun and fulfill some of my GE requirements and I worked my ass off at it. It was photography, so I was in the classroom at least 5 hours a week, in addition to going out and shooting off a roll of film almost every week as well. And now, to have those 4 credits taken away from me just pisses me off. I think I'll be taking 3 classes instead of just 2 this semester to try to catch up a little bit. I'm torn between taking another academic class and taking a PE class. I need both of them and they're both in the same (very convenient) time slot.

With school starting, it makes me realize that we've begun the sliding slope towards the end of the year. I'll be 30 at the end of this year. It's not a huge deal to me; most everyone I hang out with is already on that side of 30, so I feel like I've already been there. It blows my mind that my mom and dad had 4 kids already by the time they were my age, but everyone's path is different. It also makes me realize that in about 6 weeks, they're going to put up the Thanksgiving decorations, and in about 2 months, they'll be putting up the Christmas decorations. It seems like I've blinked and missed a large chunk of the year. Part of growing older, I'm sure.

Lastly, did you know that if you can't find normal scotch tape, packing tape works surprisingly well for wrapping presents? Happy birthday, Space Kitty. Muahahaha!

In which our heroine tries to determine whether she is being insulted or complimented

So, my boss came into my office this morning, and I reminded him that I have a class meeting tomorrow, so I'd be leaving work about 30 minutes early. I asked if I could come in early to make up the time, and he said yes. He then went on to tell me that my education was valuable to the company, and that he would always be accomodating. I told him that I was only working on my general education courses right now, so these classes don't have a direct impact, but thank you very much. He paused, then told me I should be a lawyer. I'm not sure it was in response to what I said or not, and I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted! I think I'll go ahead and choose to be complimented, but I'll reserve the right to feel insulted later.

In which our heroine talks about stuffing her bra for the first time

About a week ago, I went to work like normally and was just sitting at my desk when all of a sudden, I noticed that my bra was poking me in a supurbly uncomfortable way. It didn't feel like a normal kind of thing, so I decided to go into the bathroom to inspect further.

In the bathroom, I discovered that my unerwire had taken this exact moment to break. Now, I've had underwires that decided that they weren't happy with the confines of the bra, but in this case, the metal literally had snapped in half, and the sharp edges were what was poking me. Damn, damn, damn. So, my first thought was to just take out the underwire and not worry about it. Problem: The underwire on the OTHER side was just fine, so the twins wouldn't be identical twins any longer. I was at work and there's NO WAY I was just going to take my bra off because I can't type with my arms crossed against my chest. I figured that I would walk back to my desk and pick up a pair of scissors so I could cut out the underwire on the other side, and then I would be just fine. However, when I took a step, the bra jabbed the hell out of me again, and I decided that I didn't want to take that uncomfortable walk, no matter how short.

So, I took a few squares of toilet paper, folded them over a couple of times, and stuck them between the bra and my skin. Ahhh, relief. I went back to my desk to get the scissors, but figured that this was working so well that I'd just see how it lasted through the day. Surprisingly, it was perfect the rest of the day, and I went home unscathed.

This, my friends, is the very first time I had to stuff my bra with toilet paper. I'm declaring this a Tale of Triumph because I fought the underwire, and I fucking won. We have to take our victories when we can!

In which our heroine gets a root canal and some bad news

I had a root canal today. I have never had any dental work before. I mean, I've had braces, and I've had teeth removed, but I've never had my teeth drilled. I really wasn't sure what to expect. Well, I mean, people kept saying, "You need a root canal? Oh, I'm SO sorry!" However, the people I spoke with who had actually had one told me that it wasn't such a big deal. So, I figured that the sound of the drill might bother me, but I figured that I would have local anesthetic so at worst, it would just be uncomfortable.

So, I'm happy to announce that I made it through just fine. It took a very, very long time, and the anaesthetic wore off at the end, but I'm hard-core (ha!) and just had them finish up instead of getting another shot and waiting for it to take effect. By the time I left, I was hurting pretty bad, but so far I'm doing okay. The drilling was totally no big deal. I'm sure I'll be hurting more later, but for now, I'm rather pleased with myself. Here's to being a responsible adult and getting my teeth taken care of.

The bad news? I knew that I would have to go in later to get the permanent crown, but unfortunately my dentist wants to let my tooth heal for at least a MONTH before I can go in to get even a temporary crown. So, I still can't chew on that side of my mouth for another month. To make it worse? I need another root canal on the exact same tooth the other side, so unless I reschedule my appointment, there would be almost 3 weeks when I couldn't really chew at all. Yeah, that sounds just fan-damn-tastic. I think I'll reschedule the next root canal until I get the crown. Sometimes being an adult and taking care of business sucks.

In which our heroine cuts herself with a plastic spoon

Yes, my friends, I cut myself with a plastic spoon yesterday. Not a spork, which one could possibly imagine one of the tines possibly being slightly sharper (possibly) than a pair of safety scissors, but a spoon.

We begin our tale after dinner. I had a pint of Ben and Jerry's Carmel Sutra ice cream waiting for me in the freezer. Asimovian was up and about, so I asked him to bring it when he came back to the couch. Little did I know that my laziness would be my undoing. He kindly brought me the ice cream and a plastic spoon.

Now, let me stop here to defend myself for a moment. Yes, I eat Ben and Jerry's straight from the canister. Yes, I like to use a spoon. Yes, I like using a plastic spoon from time to time because I hate doing dishes. My only defense is that Asi hates chocolate, and I never have to share, so I don't see the use in dirtying up a dish just to be civil. See... I'm saving the environment. Yeah, that's it.

Anyhow, the ice cream had been stashed in the freezer since the day before when the 12-year-old kid at the dairy had flirted with me shamelessly while bringing it to my car. The ice cream was hard as a rock. I set it aside so it would soften up a little bit.

But this is Caramel Sutra ice cream. It's dark fudge chocolate and caramel ice creams with a huge ribbon of caramel running down the middle. One does not just sit there and let the ice cream wait to be eaten. One dives in with reckless abandon and digs right in with the plastic spoon one's infinitely kind husband has provided. However, if one exerts too much force, one might break the spoon. And while the spoon isn't normally sharp, the edge of a broken spoon can be very sharp. In this case, it can, and will, slice open your finger pretty good.

What have we learned? Well, first off, metal spoons are much more suited to ice cream. Secondly, I might want to use a dish and scoop it out of the container in the future. But mostly I've learned that if I'm ever imprisoned, I know how to make a GREAT shiv.