Random(ish) Thoughts on This Friday, the 3rd of July

You know what really pisses me off? My wisdom teeth. Okay, yes, fine, this was years ago, but I still find myself thinking about them. When I had my wisdom teeth removed I asked the surgeon dentist guy if I could have them afterward. He said yes. I counted backwards from ten, vaguely remember leaning out my car window to wave to people on the Golden Gate Bridge and the next thing I knew I was on my couch. Delicious drugs and done. At the follow-up appointment I asked the surgeon for my teeth and he said he forgot and threw them away. WTF Mr. Surgeon Guy??? Those were MY TEETH. I had big plans for those things. Spotlights on my mantel, a gold chain around my neck. Depending on how big they were I was going to make one into the gear shift knob on my car or maybe fashion one into the doorbell button at my house. Now they exist in some medical waste facility, no spotlights at all, and I still think about them sometimes. Okay, often. I think about my wisdom teeth often.

You know what else I think about more often than I should? Lady Gaga.

And String Theory. Surely they are somehow related because I don't get either one and here's the other coincidence: I DON'T CARE. There. I said it. Put on some pants and wash your face. You look stupid. You, too, String Theory.

Also? The lady at the party I went to a few weekends ago. It was nightfall and there was a fire pit outside. Someone brought out a bag of marshmallows and we pulled twigs off a tree to make s'mores. I ate one. Then another. Do you have any idea how good roasted marshmallows are? Why don't I make those every freaking night, I ask you. On the third one this pinched woman I did not know said, "you know the limit is two. Two marshmallows per person." The fire lit up her face from beneath, not a good angle on the prettiest among us, and I swear to fucking god I wanted to poke my twig through her head, stick it in the fire and shake it a little until her head fell off into the orange burning coals with the rest of the gloppy burnt hot dog butts and bottle caps.

But then there's this. These. This guy. A graphic designer artist funny guy who I like a lot even though I do not know him.

He makes me happy the way a man with a pen only can, and sometimes that's all it takes is a Dot with the word Bitch inside.

And this. This makes me happiest of all.

Watching 4th of July fireworks with my Petunia Faced Girl. She lets me have all the marshmallows I want and maybe one day, if I'm a really good mommy, she'll give me her wisdom teeth. Or she'll want to keep them for herself which will make me oh-so-proud.
Happy 4th, my friends. Be safe!
xoxo,
S