For those of you so politically inclined, I urge you to read this piece about Obama’s recent speech from Antiwar. It pulls out some good points and questions and also highlights a personal fear of mine. Don’t get me wrong, I’m team Obama all the way and had I been American, I would have voted for change. As a Canadian, I sat in front of the TV throwing death looks at Palin and desperately hoping for change. However, having said that, I have always worried that his gift for oration could camouflage certain issues.  With Obama being such a powerful speaker and the fact that his predecessor could barely string together a full sentence, it’s easy to get lost in the cadence of his words and not notice a lack of substance if that were the case. I think there was some hit and some miss in Cairo, and I think the Antiwar piece sums up, rather nicely, what is needed next.

Action.

Obama has to match those pretty words with the action that they speak of and I hope to hell he can do it.

Across from the dog park that Maggi & I frequent there is a sports field. On any given day there is some small sporting war being waged; soccer, rugby, lacrosse, teenagers playing hide the tongue…. Yesterday as I sat on my bench in the sun watching Mags sniff copious amounts of dog urine there were a couple of dozen people fly fishing on the grass. It’s obviously to perfect their technique, which I get, but it looks so strange. There are so many of them acting as though it is so perfectly normal that they make the small boy flying the red kite on the other side of the field look out of place.

This is why you don’t lounge in the back yard post surgery and under the influence of pain medication. That “pretty shade of burgundy” isn’t quite as pretty as it may have looked earlier.

(That, and these shorts make my ass look weird)

Other than one of my bottom wisdoms being a hella bitch to get out of my jaw the surgery went well- apparently I freaked out a little when I came to as didn’t know where I was. I guess had I been a slut in my younger years I would be ok with waking up in strange places, barely dressed and with a really sore jaw and a strange man leaning over me, but alas I wasn’t so apparently I shouted a couple of “What the fuck?” ’s and was ready to kick a little ass.

My dental guru who took them out is a fun pervy guy that you can share a laugh with without it being creepy so after I was prepped to be put under he stopped by to say hi. I asked if I had to take off my underwear as I wasn’t sure… This amused him greatly and he said that even if I was getting a suppository anesthetic (not) the guy could just pull them to the side. I reply with “Ya, like you’re in the back seat of a car.” Even nervous, I’m a pretty classy broad hey? He assured me that I could probably leave them on as none of “that access would be required” **Insert lecherous grin here**

Post surgery, Steve said I wasn’t too bad- walked like a drunk and took two minutes of slow motion hand flailing to answer “Everything is so fast” when he asked what I was looking at as we drove home. At one point though he said that I put my self to bed from the couch because apparently the fashion show that was taking place in the living room was too noisy. (The TV wasn’t even on) So yeah, I guess the extra percocet before being discharged really was a grand idea.

My car goes back in a couple hours and afterward, I will spend the rest of the day in a drug induced coma. See you all tomorrow.

ps- Holy Mary Mother of Dog does my breath ever smell like ass.

pps- Suz- Did I talk to you after my sugery or was that a weird dream? I just remember you laughing, but nothing else.