You are invited to an end-of-summer barbecue in honor of nothing in particular, although the arrival of Melissa's parents, and any August or September birthdays (mine, Fuzzy's) may be acknowledged.

*We* will provide food and drinks, and requests will be taken into consideration.

Who: Melissa & Chris Bartell
When: Sunday August 31st, beginning at 4:30 PM. Yes, this is the day before Labor Day.
Where: Casa Bartell: 440 Halsey Avenue, San Jose, CA
Contact: Melissa: Ofc: 408-557-9880 x204, Res: 408-279-8507, Email: ymedath@ymedath.org OR leave a message HERE.
Bring: Yourself. Your appetite. A guest or two, as long as I know in advance how many people are coming. And extra lawn chairs if you have them.

Kids and well-behaved dogs are welcome.
Smoking is NOT.

Yes, this is a change from the originally scheduled date of 08/24, caused by the afore-mentioned parents changing their schedules.

My root canal wasn't completed this morning. And it's partly my fault, but I'm so mad that I really don't care that it's partly my fault.

I should backtrack.
Every cousin in my generation has some kind of congenital cranial/facial birth defect. Nicky and Cathy both had cleft palates, for example, and Lisa had the cleft palate-hare lip combination. I was lucky. My soft palate is thinner than it should be, but it's connected at least. Although, like all my cousins, I have serious ear/nose/throat issues – I had tubes put in my ears as a toddler, and even when I don't have a cold, my sinuses drain backwards, causing post-nasal drip. So, I have to swallow a LOT, because there's a lot of pressure on my soft palate. If I don't swallow, I feel like I'm choking. It also means that I CANNOT DEAL with pressure on the roof of my mouth. I gag and panic.

Now, I inform every dental professional of this before any procedure starts. Most work with me- taking breaks, letting ME control the suction thing, letting me have water if I need it. Some even go so far as to spray novocaine on the roof of my mouth so I can't FEEL the pressure. This works wonders.

When I went for the emergency root canal a couple weeks ago, I was in so much pain that I couldn't talk. Then, as you may remember, they gave me a buncha drugs and said, “Come back on Monday,” and I did. But at that point, while the pain was muted, I was also addled by codeine and not sleeping well. So while I know I told them I had issues, I'm not sure I impressed this upon them with enough force. In any case, they did MOST of the procedure that day, but as it was an emergency, and they literally only had an hour, they sent me home, with a prescription for valium and orders to take it the night before and the morning of the next appointment. To take the edge off. I did this.

I've had valium exactly once before in my life: The day I had my LASIK done. Again, it was to take the edge off, and it seemed to be fine. I wasn't nervous or anything.

So I took valium last night. And I took valium this morning, with an antihistamine to help dry out my sinuses. And I went to the endodontist for Root Canal Part II. And while I asked them to take breaks with me, they didn't respond, just said, “You took the valium, right?”

So they started, and I was doing okay. Not great, but okay. Except that they were having a conversation about the assistant's kids while working, which irritated me to no end. And then they decided to do another x-ray without removing the dental dam. That much STUFF (the dam, the ring holding it onto my tooth, the files in the tooth, and the xray tab) were too much for me. I told them I needed a break (or tried to) and they kept sticking stuff in my mouth. So, of course I started choking and they took out the dental dam, and chastised me for ripping it. (Hello? It's a three-cent piece of rubber. I hardly think it's a major expense). They put the new one in, but I still couldn't talk or swallow, because I still had metal rods in the center of my tooth. And tried again, and of course, the same thing happened. I managed to convey the command STOP. And they pulled everything out of my mouth, rather roughly.

“You need to deal,” I was told. “It's a back tooth, it's difficult.” I informed them that I'd had the same tooth done on the other side, with far less drama, and the doctor got insulted. Then he said, “There's an oral surgeon across the complex. Why don't you go over there and have him just remove the tooth. Shall I call him? Because I'm sure you're usually a very nice person, but you clearly can't handle minor annoyances.”

I ask you: would anyone in their right mind make a decision while pumped up on narcotics?

I said, “No. I'm leaving. I want a copy of my original xray.”

They handed it over. I left. I called the dentist who'd sent me to this guy and left a LONG message, and then I went to work, and tried to hold myself together while still feeling all fragile and pissy and druggy.

The guys brought me a pineapple energy blend with protein powder, and birthday flowers from my mom arrived, and our main lender was down because of computer problems /anyway/, so work was bearable, at least.

And yeah, I'm a pathetic wuss, but I'm a pissed off pathetic wuss. And I'm taking tomorrow off, because I need a day of me-time.

Oh, and apologies to any LJers who also read my blog feed. I'm cross posting this to get it out of my system.

First, I know is one of the people who posted about the RPC Auto-shutdown loop that's driving people batty today. I wanted to add that there are a couple other solutions, at least in XP:

To kill the loop: Make sure system restore is turned OFF, and then run regedit. In HKEY_LOCAL_MACHINE | Software | Microsoft | Windows | Current Version | RUN there may be a line for “automatic updates” with a key of msblast.exe. Delete that key. Save. Reboot. (Note: if system restore is not turned OFF first, the line will be rewritten.)

And a quick link for the patch we used: http://support.microsoft.com/?kbid=823980

I know the current update of Norton finds the worm, but the patch /prevents/ it. And yeah, I spent half the day yelling at the guys in my office for ignoring the Windows Update alerts.

* * *
Techiness aside, I'm in a blah mood. My shoulders and wrists hurt so much I haven't been sleeping, and I'm trying to avoid too much ibuprofen, and I'm cross and whiney, sometimes both at once, so if I seem scarce, I am, because nothing's inspiring me, and I'm trying to make sure the house is clean before my parents come, and I turn into a twelve-year-old again. We fired someone at work last week, and while intellectually I know it was the right business decision, I feel bad. It was made worse when I opened his drawer to look for a pen this evening, and found brand new Franklin Quest calendars and posters with “Opportunity” on them.

*Hugs* to those who want 'em. Sorry I'm in an antisocial mood. It won't last much longer. I hope.

A chicken and an egg are lying in bed. The chicken is leaning against

the headboard smoking a cigarette with a satisfied smile on its face.

The egg, looking a bit ticked off, grabs the sheet, rolls over and says;

“Well, I guess we finally answered THAT question.”

Mostly cuz of work. Today because of emergency root canal in…40 minutes.

Ibuprofen and vodka, please?

Xenobia is one of the wisest, smartest, best looking people on the planet. Or so at least she would like to think. It's not that Xenobia is vain – more that she is terribly susceptible to flattery. All Leos suffer from this little weakness. That's because, despite what astrologers are always saying about Leos and their confidence, secretly, deep down, they are a little unsure of themselves. This explains Xenobia's tendency to be strongly outspoken and extrovert one moment and quietly anxious the next.

Her close friends know all about her tendency towards self doubt. They know what a warm, genuine and generous character she can be, but they also know about her natural sensitivity. Xenobia's acquaintances, however, have no such insight. They feel sure that in Xenobia, they are dealing with a dynamic, energetic and decisive person who is it would be most unwise to cross.

Xenobia is fiery and feisty – she gives the impression of being someone who knows it all. As a matter of fact, whilst she does not know it 'all', she does know quite a lot of it. Xenobia is well read, well researched and always well presented. she cuts a dash, she has 'presence.' Heads turn when she enters the room. Xenobia is aware of the impression she makes but not entirely comfortable with it. She knows that people are responding to her big pretence, not her true personality. That's why she so deeply treasures the company of loved ones who are strong enough to see through her façade and respect her for the mere mortal that she actually is.

Go here to do your own

Unlike the latest Harry Potter installment, my latest read arrived in my mail slot with little fanfare, in a plain white envelope. At first, I thought it was junk mail – one of those packets of coupons for things I never want or need, until it's too late and then I wish I'd saved the coupon.

Eventually, of course, I realized what it really was: Dancing Barefoot by Wil Wheaton. I read it – all of it, as it's just a hair over 100 pages – while sitting at the dining room table eating leftover macaroni and cheese from last night, and enjoying the evening breeze. Of course, I was supposed to be on my way to the pool, but reading was just as relaxing, and didn't attract attention from my dogs, who follow me back and forth when I swim laps.

The content isn't anything you can't find on his website, which he pretty much states in the beginning, but it was a nice read, and I look forward to more of his writings.

If you have the opportunity, I recommend the book.