i am aware of the irony

so. i am now 4 less teeth than i used to be. it wasn't so bad, really. the doctor explained what the possible risks and complications are when extracting wisdom teeth. for example: nerve damage that would leave my face slightly lopsided or perhaps my bottom lip would droop slightly in a permanent "mopey-face." or, damage to my sinus cavity, which would prevent me from blowing my nose for a few days. hmmmm. anyway, neither of those things happened. i calmly listened to him explain how he was going to break my teeth apart and gouge them out in bits. normally, i would find this kind of information alarming, likely even panic inducing, but he seemed like he knew what he was doing. i was "sedated" for the procedure rather than put under general anesthetic. the nurses kept calling the sedatives "nice drugs." i was excited to learn more about how the "nice drugs" were going to feel, but after the iv was in all i remember is looking at a print on the wall in front of me and giggling. the next thing i knew the nurse said it was over and i stood up. it's been up and down ever since. only one side of face is swollen and i accidentally pulled out one of the sutures last night. all i've got for the pain are tylenol 3's, which are ok, but they alternately make me wired, grumpy or vaguely stoned. i am not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow.

and right now, i feel it is my duty to warn you about the stupidest book ever published: selected journals of jann arden: i'll tell you one damn thing, and that's all i know! her "inner thoughts" are quite possibly the most inane combination of grossness and schmucky sentimentality i have ever read. don't ask why or how i came to read this horror of a book, but i know more about jann arden than i ever wanted to. really, for her to have the nerve to publish her own journals as though they were of any literary or even "inspirational" value is an indication of a colossal and seriously misguided egotism that ends up sounding painfully hilarious. this is an example of what jann wants to share with the world:

i hope norah jones wins everything at the grammy's. i hope dianna krall wins as well. i hope the world doesn't blow up. i hope people can bear each other for a few thousand more years. i need to repack. i think i heard the doorbell. - p.77

where did christmas come from all of a sudden??? it certainly rushed in like a flood. a period that came two weeks early, if you ask me. and to top it off, you've got white jeans on. well, i do. i always seemed to have white pants on when it really mattered. shit. god help me. i am not sure that is what i wanted to say about christmas. - p.64

yeah. x-mas really is like a rag stain. thanks for clarifying that for me jann. i can relate to you. these are just a few examples-- there are better ones, but they take up too much space. at any rate, publishing your journals just because you're "famous" (are canadian "celebrities" ever really "famous" if they still live in canada?) doesn't make you a profound person or even a good writer. it just serves as a warning to the rest of us who entertain the idea that our peronal journals might be the stuff of literary genius: not likely. journaling is good. it can be the breeding ground for greatness, but generally these kinds of writings are just inane and really should stay private. i got the impression when reading this book that she wrote these journal entries with the idea that she would make them public, which makes it even more hideous. the over done inspirational bits and stupid metaphors involving menstruation, puke and "poop" are idiotic. instead of publishing a book, she should put this crap in a blog like the rest of us. . . i don't expect anyone to pay to read my inane ramblings.