Surprises and shirtlessness

Attention, everyone! Please go see The Prestige, because it is an awesome, awesome movie. It is, for instance, the first movie I have seen since V For Vendetta that I left the theater actually wanting to talk about something other than its badness.

Also, for the ladies, there are several scenes in which Hugh Jackman is shirtless. Just saying.

I will warn you beforehand that both Ben and Jeni figured out the surprise ending way before I did; Jeni went so far as to declare the movie "predictable." I, on the other hand, did not figure it out until much later, which is a little vexing, as I pride myself on figuring out trick endings and then deriding their obviousness. But in my own defense, let me just say that somehow, I had heard or just made up that the trick ending was something totally different than what it actually was, and spent so much time looking for evidence of my own supposed trick ending that I missed all the clues pointing to the actual trick ending.

So, for the record, and just to help you out, the trick ending is not that Christian Bale is actually magic.

Anyway, go see it, so we can talk about it. Because Ben is tired of discussing this movie with me, and will not entertain my desires to go see it again, perhaps because I showed too much interest in shirtless Hugh Jackman.

What is a cystoscopy?

NOTE! This entry is about my wee box problems. If you do not like excessive use of the word "urethra," or would prefer not to know what a cystoscopy actually entails, preferring to remain forever in the dark about the horrors of having your urinary tract checked out via tiny camera, you should probably not read this. Don't say I didn't warn you.

A verbatim account from the office of Dr. X., Urologist:

Cystoscopy is a procedure that is used to visually inspect the bladder and the urethra (tube leading out of the bladder). This can be done in most instances without discomfort by the use of a local anesthetic jelly (not a shot)!! You will be placed on a special table with your legs in special stirrups. The end of the urinary channel (or urethra) will be cleaned and a local anesthetic placed into the urinary channel for a few moments. The cystoscope (or telescope) is passed into the bladder and the inspection is carried out. The entire exam takes less than ten minutes. Afterwards, you might expect a little discomfort while voiding and perhaps a spot of blood for a day or so. A warm bath helps to relieve this irritation and will wash off the soap we've used to prep the area. You may receive some antibiotics for a few days afterwards. Ask if you have questions-- it's not as bad as you think-- honest!

I find several things wrong with this:

1. Does the fact that the anesthetic jelly is "not a shot!!" impress anyone else? It does not impress me.

2. I am also not impressed that there will be a "special table," or that my legs will be in "special stirrups." This does not make me feel special. It makes me feel really, really disgusting.

3. The word "telescope" should never be used in conjunction with my wee box. Not ever.

4. I don't void. I pee. And I already have this problem. So it's awesome that the test I'm getting to find out why I have this problem is going to make it worse.

5. They're going to just leave soap on my "area"? You don't just leave soap on anything!

6. The phrase "it's not as bad as you think-- honest!" leads me to believe that it is going to be much, much worse than I think.

Why can't I just have a broken arm or athlete's foot, or any non-horrifyingly embarrassing ailment? Just one time?

Actually, I did have athlete's foot once, and it was pretty embarrassing. So forget that one. But come on. I am now, officially, the only person under fifty to have all her entire excretory system captured on film.

Laotian Devotion

Can I just be the first to say, what the fuck? Why did I dream about Laotians trying to kill me the night before two Laotians won the Mega Millions Lottery? That's them, pictured. It behooves me to mention that they do not look like the Laotians that were attempting to kill me (although I am impressed by my subconscious' ability to generate people who apparently did look rather Laotian).

So, this indicates that a couple of things could be happening:

1. I am able, through dreams, to predict the winner of the Mega Millions lottery (or at least, the ethnicity of said winners)

2. I was actually supposed to have won the Mega Millions lottery, but because I chose, foolishly, not to buy a ticket, my winning numbers went to this couple, who contacted me through my dream just to rub it in

3. None of this is real at all, and I'm just in some sort of Lost-esque purgatory world

At any rate, it's all very bizarre. Here's hoping that these Laotians have the best of luck with their lottery winnings, and do not attempt to subdue me with a syringe to the neck.

Laost Cause

First off, let me just say that I left work early today, a victim of a mystery illness that has rendered me feeling cross-eyed and caused me to misjudge my distance from my surroundings, resulting in a full-on collision with the side of a cubicle and the unfortunate slamming of an entirely too-full cup of Diet Pepsi against the wall at Long John Silver's. Curiously, this does not seem to affect me when I drive, so apparently if I had been left to do my work in the car all day, everything probably would have been fine.

But anyway, none of this has anything to do with Laos.

What does have to do with Laos is the fact that I had a totally bizarre dream last night that these two Laotians were trying to kill me-- once with a syringe to the neck (full of something that, though burn-y, was apparently not lethal) and once by shoving me off a building. This entire thing is especially interesting in that I have never, ever, ever, ever, ever thought about Laos before in my life, and don't know any actual Laotians, and cannot fathom why they would be trying to kill me, in my dream life or otherwise. It is, by far, the most random topic for a dream that I have ever experienced-- and I once dreamed that I was part of an elite Kid Team sent back in time to stop the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. (LeVar Burton was our leader.)

When I told Ben about it, he was sure I must have been confused, and that it was Russians, not Laotians, that were attempting to kill me. But no, I assure you, it was Laotians*.

*Or, rather, dream Laotians, as I do not, in any way, want to insinuate that any real Laotians are trying to kill me, mainly because I don't want to get angry e-mails.

A Brand New Record For 1990

(By the way, this was a post I started on Friday, and clicked "save as draft" on, and the promptly forgot about. I didn't find it heinously boring, so here it is now, for your amusement!)

I was feeling sort of down today at work, so I decided to listen to Flood, by They Might Be Giants. While I wouldn't say I am a big TMBG fan-- I've tried, and failed, to enjoy many of their albums over the years-- but there is something about this one that I love love love.

But as I listened to it today, I reached an ugly conclusion-- this CD came out sixteen years ago. Which means someone who was born the day it came out could, in all likelihood, drive now. "Birdhouse In Your Soul" is to them as the Knack's "My Sharona" is to me.

As Flavor Flav would say, wowwwwww.

My Life as a TV Watcher: Week Three

I really have been attempting to stick with my TV-watching schedule, I swear! I didn't get to comment last week, as we were getting ready for our trip to St. Louis (and I was too heartbroken over the departure of Megg from ANTM). So here is how things are shaping up now:

8:00 America's Next Top Model

Okay, I hate to admit this, because clearly it is not what the producers want, but I actually really like Melrose. I'm not really sure what the issue is-- she's really pretty, and funny, and doesn't seem opposed to anything, even when they give her totally whacked out shoots, like being an old woman or, even more terrifying, Donald Trump. Is this wrong? Well, if loving Melrose is wrong, I don't wanna be right. And besides, doesn't she look an awful lot like one of our old grad school professors (whom I will decline to name, just in case there's another "Googling myself and finding derrogatory comments on Kim's blog" situation)?

In regards to Wednesday's actual episode, I have several questions-- which twin is the gay twin, again? Is that going to be important to know later on? Also, why does proving that one has an uncanny resemblance to Jay-Z somehow enhance your model cred? Also also, does anyone else feel gypped by the lack of Janice Dickenson? I was led to believe she would become a prominent force in this season. I was led astray.

Also also also, I was glad to see AJ go. In general, a "whatever, I'm too fucking cool for this, anyway" attitude makes me generally want to punch people in the face.

9:00 Lost

I have to admit, I'm about eighteen minutes away from never watching this show again. Am I seriously going to have to sit around for several more years before someone explains to me why there are perfectly nice-looking, suburban-esque houses on the island? Or why sometimes That Bald Guy can walk and talk, and sometimes he can't? Yes, I realize that this is high-brow, and that the payoff will be huge, and it's much more progressive than your average, mystery-less episode of CSI (unless "who killed this midget?" satisfies your need for mystery). But there is something about this show that makes me think it is laughing at me, because I haven't figured it out yet. Because the writers are all in on the joke, and so is everyone else in America, and I'm the only one in the world too stupid to understand the situation.

So, in other words, is there anything else on at nine on Wednesdays that I can use to fill the fast-approaching hole in my schedule?

10:00 South Park

I watched this on Wednesday, and already I have no idea what happened. I think it had something to do with Dog: The Bounty Hunter? My main thought on South Park at the moment: has anyone but me noticed that Cartman's voice is different now? Oh, it's definitely the same guy doing it. But it's like he forgot how to do it over the summer.

So, I guess TV Wednesday is not working out as well as I had hoped. Perhaps it's time for me to focus my attention instead on Thursday... I did get freakishly into Survivor: Outback a few years ago, and greatly enjoyed The Office on DVD. People tell me I would like My Name is Earl, but mustaches make me uncomfortable.

I find it disconcerting...

That someone found this blog using the wording "Kim Shable Blow." Whoever this person is:

• Knows me
• Thinks I blow
• Thinks I literally blow, in the gross sense of the word-- or worse, was looking for pictures of same
• Thinks I may have some blow, which would also not be true.

Please let me know if there is another, far more innocent explanation for this, which would make me very happy, as I am really sort of weirded out now. Although I have to admit, I am weirded out anytime I see anyone has done a search with my full name in it. Ordinarily, one might find that flattering; I, on the other hand, assume it is only people who have some sort of vague, unrealized but very heinous thing against me, and are going to do something really bad to me, just as soon as they find me. Something bad that will establish that I blow.

Things you didn't know about St. Louis

1. On the way there from Cleveland, you see the world's biggest, freakiest cross. While Ben and I could not muster the courage to stop and actually look at it up close-- you can see it well enough from the freeway, as it appears to be over ten stories high and made of aluminum siding-- we did feel really awed by its big... crossiness.

2. The Arch is very tall, but not as tall as you would think. Also, you can ride to the top of it in tiny, Woody Allen in Sleepers-esque white little bucket trams. But once you get to the top, you will be bummed out, as the only really exciting thing to see in St. Louis is the Arch, which is the only thing you can't see from inside the Arch.

3. Foxy people get married there, like these two-- congrats, Dan and Jenn! Apparently, the weather in St. Louis also cooperates for foxy people, so that Dan and Jenn had the perfect day. A good time was had by all, even Ashley, although her evening took a decidedly dramatic turn around the clog dancing...

4. On the way home from St. Louis, if you stop at a certain gas station, they have a machine that will spray you with imitation cologne for a quarter. The bad thing was, though, that this particular machine was hung right around eye-level for me, so it's more like I could have been maced with imitation cologne for a quarter.

On the road again

I know I just promised that I would blog more, and in more detail, in an effort to stop the gradual slow decline of this blog into nothing more than a chronicle of my bad teeth and urinary issues. But in all the madness, I kind of forgot that we're going to Saint Louis for the weekend to Dan and Jenn's wedding. I mean, I didn't forget that we were going to the wedding... I just kind of forgot that, in order to go to the wedding, my car had to have gas in it, and I needed, you know, clothes to wear and stuff.

So while I pull that together, please enjoy this slightly out of focus picture of myself in a sweet pirate mask:

I got it at Walgreen's for a dollar, but do not even think of getting it for yourself, because it's mine. I found it, and it's mine! I'm just saying that I got it at Walgreen's for a dollar to rub it in.

Also, I think I would look more piratey if I hadn't put my sunglasses on over top. Now I look more like the Macho Man Randy Savage. But that's a pretty good idea for a mask, too, really.

What I Believe Now #1*

That boxes of Nerds candy are far too difficult to open.

*A new My Biz feature that allows me to state my beliefs in a frank and honest way. Beliefs, apparently, about the relative difficulty of opening a box of candy. But other beliefs, too, in the future. I don't have any more beliefs at the moment.

Also, I suspect I stole the name of this from somewhere really obvious, but I can't put my finger on it right now, so I will pretend I made it up.

Do as I do

Not unlike Pen, I, too, have noticed a general malaise among our Blogs of Note (except, of course, for Ashley, who continues bringing the awesome like it's her job)-- I, personally, have been rather neglectful of late, because I have been too busy doing the following things:

• Getting root canals
• Having my kidneys ultrasound-ed
• Watching the 3rd (and alas, final) season of Arrested Development
• Reading books about girls who had sex in high school, probably in a belated attempt to cover up for the fact that I wasn't one of them
• Attending my butthead cousin's soccer game

Et Cetera.

But more than that, I have been experiencing a general malaise, based largely on my growing belief that, despite the fact that I got into graduate school for creative writing, I am not even kind of creative. I base this belief entirely on the fact that I have never once created a catchphrase.

I am so jealous of people who create catchphrases. Like Daisy's "I less than three..." That totally depresses me. Because I'm like, that's a really awesome catchphrase. And I totally didn't come up with it.

Oh, I'm big on appropriating other people's catchphrases. To the point where, the other day, I had to ask Marita, "Did I come up with the word 'ween?'" Because I really thought I did. But no, I didn't.

And it doesn't help that, around the office, people do an imitation of my boyfriend's catchphrase, which is just the word "sure" spoken with a Wisconsin accent, but still, it's totally catchy, and he came up with it, and he doesn't even work here.

And it's not just catchphrases-- I am also super jealous of T.'s discovery of the Church Sign webpage. Because that thing is totally rad, and I totally can't use it now because it's T.'s thing, and I don't want to be a copycat. So not only have I never come up with a catchy catchphrase, I can't even find awesome webpages to use for awesomeness, as T. did.

So far, the only even remotely creative thing I've done is figure out that I can post to my blog by e-mail, as I am doing right now. But that's not really so much creative as it is devious.

But in an effort to revive the blogscene and ease my own mind, I will attempt to blog more often (and less about my teeth). The way I see it, every entry I write is another chance that a phrase I use will become catchy. And isn't that all we ever dream of?

My cousin is a butthead

Hooray, Katie, good work in the game today against Shaker B! I'm glad I got to come and see you play, and see your sassy haircut and whatnot. However, I am still angry that you called me a butthead. Because you're the butthead!

Love,

Butthead

My Life as a TV Watcher: Day One

As most of you know, Ben and I don't watch much TV. This is not, I must stress, because we sit around at home and do Masterpiece Theatre type things, like identify local flora or read Proust. In fact, I honestly couldn't tell you, a lot of the time, what we're doing instead of watching TV-- in the summer, it was bike-riding or dog-walking, and in the winter, a lot of the time, it's basketball. But I told Ben last week that I wanted to start watching more TV, and thankfully, he agreed.

Our main TV night, we have decided, will be Wednesday, mainly because:

• America's Next Top Model is on, and I'm tired of only experiencing it through VH1 marathons.
• We saw last week's recap episode of Lost, and it looked really bitchin', and besides, most people inform me that I will really love this show.
• South Park is on, and, though it shames me to admit this, Ben and I are the only people alive who still watch and enjoy it.

After a test run last week, we settled in last night for our first Evening of Television (although Ben opted out for the ANTM portion, as he believes it to be "gay"). My thoughts:

• If I weighed forty pounds less, I could totally be on ANTM, as all those girls are secretly sort of weird-looking. I guess I had never realized before how weird-looking you had to be to be a model. But Tyra's not weird-looking, she's just pretty.
• I don't understand Lost at all, and I sort of doubt I ever will. It just seems like everything is weird and complicated for weirdness' and complicatedness' sake. How can the Lead Other also be Matthew Fox's wife's boyfriend? Are those houses actually on the island? And if so, why has no one yet located them? Does Stephen King approve of being the Others' book club selection? I mean, obviously I have missed a lot, and one recap show will totally not help that much. But is it too late for me and Lost?
• South Park is really, really gross.

We have decided, after a marathon viewing session of the first season DVD, to expand our Night of Television to include The Office, which we both find excruciatingly funny, except for Steve Carrell's character, who we both just hate, and not in the way you hate a particularly good TV villain (i.e., Newman). We actually just really hate him, and use his screen time to go get more Chex Mix. Although he did have the funniest line thus far (now granted, we've only watched the one season), which was "Abraham Lincoln said 'If you are a racist, I will attack you with the North.'"

Any other thoughts on how I should modify my TV viewing schedule? I like it thus far, as it is contained to one evening-- since I don't have a TiVo or anything of the sort, and hate reasoning with the VCR, I am pretty much restricted to actually watching things as they happen, instead of at my convenience, although I've sort of been begging for TiVo since last winter-- but would gladly entertain substitutes for, say, Lost, which, the more I think about it, I am probably not going to watch much more of, as things that are purposefully confusing irritate the shit out of me (see Memento).

Was Blind, But Now I See

I feel it my civic duty to inform you all about 39 Dollar Glasses, an insanely awesome website that, as indicated by it's catchy name, provides glasses-- frames and lenses-- for $39. For real.

My friend Denise's husband turned me onto it about a year ago, but for some reason I put off actually using it-- possibly because the idea of $39 dollar glasses is so mindblowingly savage that to even contemplate it for longer than 30 seconds is to risk madness-- until last week, when I realized, after a year or so of wondering, that my evening headaches are actually caused by my super weak glasses. So, I went to the site, ordered the glasses using my prescription card, and now I have totally awesome new glasses, and they only cost me thirty-nine dollars.

(That, by the way, is not a picture of me wearing the new glasses, but rather of me holding up a cutout of what the new glasses would look like, as you can actually print life-sized pictures of the glasses to see what they look like on your face, which I did a few weeks ago before taking the plunge, hence the long hair. I suppose I could have taken a picture of myself actually wearing the real glasses, as I am doing so right this very second, but I am feeling lazy, and my teeth hurt, and I'm wearing a bandana-- all of which are colluding against me showing you the real deal. But seriously, check out the cut-out job Marita did on those babies. She's like a scissors machine!)

Anyway, despite the fact that I am acting like a paid endorser of 39 Dollar Glasses, I am totally not. I'm more just a person who enjoys sticking it to those bastards at Lens Crafters, who tricked us all into thinking that glasses, for some reason, need to cost $300.

However, if 39 Dollar Glasses were to happen onto this site, and see my glowing endorsement, and agree to give me free glasses for life, that would be totally acceptable. I don't say no to eyewear.

Dental Day

So I'm leaving for my three hour dentist appointment in about ten minutes-- what an awesome way to spend a day off! But hopefully, by two o'clock this afternoon, all my dental woes will finally be over. Which will free up much of my blogging time to talk about other, much more interesting things, such as:

• I made homemade Chex Mix for the first time yesterday! A nation rejoices; my waistline, it weeps.
• Curtis Sittenfeld's book Prep-- unstoppably awesome. Go get it, now!
• Who's a crochet madwoman? It's me! Believe it, bitches!

Okay, so I lied, the posts won't be any more interesting than they are right now. But at least they won't be about my grody teeth.