Sorry, Man.

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Rebecca
Date: Jul 31, 2007 8:42 AM
Subject: Re: Rebecca, We Want You Back!
To: ConsumerReports_Online@email.consumerreports.org

Hey CR:

I totally can't believe you won't give up on this relationship.

I told you when I broke up that we'd never get back together again, and I meant it. I can't stand that habit you have of slurping after every single sentence, like speaking makes you salivate or something. Yeah, I thought it was endearing at first, but now it just gives me the shakes, it is just so gross and completely unnecessary

Yeah, we had something there. I won't deny that. Sometimes (and I really shouldn't be encouraging you this way, but still), I miss the hilarious, sardonic comments you made under your breath at family gatherings. Even now, when Aunt Calliope brings her salmon ball on Christmas Eve, I think of you and smile.

But that's not enough to sustain a relationship, CR. I think it's time you moved on.

Sincerely,
Rebecca


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PHYSICAL Therapy. . .

This is how I understand it: So, your jaw is composed of two temporomandibular (TMJ) joints, which are the only synovial joints in the human body with an articular disk. Plus? They're the only ones that have to constantly work in harmony with each other. Pretty much any other joint in your body has a certain level of independence.

Not the jaw.

It's totally the conjoined twin of the joint world.

Anyway, true to my character, my TMJ joints seriously just don't get along. The right one is always beating up on the left one, who takes it out on me by popping and being in pain and sometimes the whole mess just locks up altogether.

Totally not fun.

So, I enrolled them in couples therapy.

Okay, actually, what I'm doing is going to a chiropracter twice a week. He basically gives me painful neck and jaw massages, then he takes my head in his hands, tells me to take a deep breath, and then violently twists the hell out of my neck until it pops in a hundred places.

This kind of feels good, to tell the truth.

The first time he did it, he said something like, "I'm going to do an adjustment, now. Don't worry, the chances of paralyzing you are smaller than getting hit by lightning."

How very consoling, thanks.

Overally, I like the guy -- but lately, as we are getting further along in our therapeutic relationship together, he has been revealing little bits and pieces about himself that are . . . interesting. . .

Like, he and his wife have five cats.

Which, not that big of a deal, right? I have a cat, myself!

But then, today, we were chatting about family, damn if I didn't find a big old chunk of beef in the stew that is his life.

Him: Cross your arms in front of your chest and take a breath. (At this point he kind of hugs me and leans on me while he digs his fist in my back until it cracks a few dozen times) Yeah *oof*, I wrote a letter to my mom and told her I needed space.
Me: Why's that?
Him: She's British. Now lie back on the table.
Me: Oh.
Him: In my letter I said she was free to write to me, but she could not call or visit. Now try to relax.
Me: Oh. (CRACK CRACK CRACK)
Him: I know some people think that's harsh. Deep breath. But (he takes one palm against my temple and the other against my jaw on the opposite side of my face) I told her --
Me: AHHH (searing pain)
Him: THEY DON'T MAKE PAMPERS IN ADULT SIZES!

Then he smiled sweetly and gave me some exercises to do to improve my posture.

MythBusters

Yesterday was a stunning, gorgeous day in San Francisco -- all warm and sunny and non-foggy-like -- so I packed up my book and my iPod and headed up to Alamo Square to revel in the fact that I live in the most freaking gorgeous city evar.

While I was lying in the grass squinting at the view, I saw many tourists. Among them were two young couples, probably in their early twenties, who paused near my perch to take in the view. They were silent for a moment, just enjoying the vast beauty of a perfect clear day, a pastel landscape of victorian homes, giving way to skyscrapers, giving way to sparkling blue water of the bay.

Then, one girl said, "I wonder if Stephanie Tanner is home?"

This made me immediately snort, which then made the whole gaggle of them laugh hysterically before moving on.

See, Alamo Square is often known as the full house park, which I always thought it was too, so today I grabbed a video of the intro to embed, and I SEE NO ALAMO SQUARE, PEOPLE.

Do you?

PRO

So, after work today, I had to rush off to the dentist, because the temporary cap he had installed (PAINFULLY) onto my back tooth popped on off during my afternoon snack.

Two hours later, I left that chair with a new cap and a big fat bottle of horse-pill sized motrin. I thought, "I'm going to the Apple store."

Damn if I didn't run into Anne there. So odd. Here we are, flirting with Roberto, the handsome salesman from Brazil. (Roberto is not in this photograph.)



Y'all, I bought a macbook. I don't know why. Wait -- it had to do with a combo of nitrous, the need for retail therapy, and lust. For Roberto. I mean, for the macbook.

My old macbook is so old and creaky. The new one is so so shiny!

There is a two week return policy. It's sitting now in my foyer, looking sweet and scary.