Well, it started off all right. I FINALLY made myself get a haircut last Friday. I can start a whole new blog on how my hair went into a downward spiral ever since my mohawk. Neglected and bitter, that's what the blog would be called because that was my hair. My hair was down to my waist, my roots had become unattractive plants and the ends were so dry, they crackled in the wind. So I chopped it off, went back to my original color and wala - I was reborn as Joyce Dewitt and Lady Ga Ga's love child:
By the way I'm not trying to be sexy in that picture, I'm totally constipated - too much cheese not enough fluids, you know how it is.
Anyways, Saturday rolls around and I took myself, my fierce new bond girl haircut, picked up my friend Brandie from her house and off we went to a party that I had been looking forward to all week. Before making our grand entrance, we decided to eat dinner before going because we were both starving. This is when the madness happens.
We settled on a nearby restaurant, which will remain unnamed ...um ... Mimi's in Chino Hills....and ordered breakfast for dinner. I ordered a chicken fried steak, B ordered some sausage and we both had potatoes and eggs. We immediately knew something was up when B smelled a strong fish odor coming from her plate. Seeing that she ordered no seafood with her breakfast sausage she began sniffing around her plate to see where the smell was coming from. She even looked into the next booth just to make sure Pamela Anderson wasn't sitting next to us.
Meanwhile, feeling sorry for B and her fishy smelling plate but not sorry enough to stop me from eating my food (I'm an awful friend when I'm hungry) I start to dig into my potatoes and notice something....odd. The potatoes were sauteed with a bunch of spices, onions and what not, with the skin left on them and I noticed an unusually large piece of "potato skin" lying in between the pile of potatoes. It particularly caught my eye because it looked like a perfectly shaped diamond. I looked closer and put it on my fork to see if indeed this was a potato skin or a large piece of onion because if it was the latter, it was headed for my napkin because onions - EW.
Only it wasn't an onion nor was it a potato skin - and I know this because it CRAWLED OFF my fork as I was examining it.
Dinner was officially over as I huddled in the corner of our booth swatting imaginary bugs off my hair and downing my tea just in case any bugs got in my mouth even though I hadn't taken a bite off my plate. Then I panicked and wondered if bugs were in my tea so I tried to spit it back up and .......yeah, you get the picture. I was a mess.
Meanwhile, B was still trying to solve the mystery of the fishy smell and immediately solved it when she took a bite of her potatoes that she discovered (too late) were rotten. Henceforth the culprit for the low tide scent of her food was found. (Pamela Anderson was off the hook ..for now.) She hunched into her corner of the booth eating sugar packets by the handful trying to get the rotten fish potato taste out from the back of her throat.
It was a sad scene.
The waiter tried to say the bug must have 'flew' into the my plate; however unless the bug 'flew' into my plate and decided to roll around in the spices and oil for kinky bug reasons unknown to us, there was no way that could have happened. There was no 'flying' bug in or around our area when we sat down and this bug was COVERED in spices and looked a tad bit singed. That bitch was flying no where even if it wanted to. He also tried to tell B that her potatoes shouldn't smell or taste like fish since they don't cook their meats on the same grill as the potatoes - I don't think he addressed the fact that they were rotten but I did notice that as he took away the plate he had it about as far away from him as he possibly could. Thankfully the manager knew that shit was nasty and didn't make us pay for the food; however, the damage had already been done as B got seriously sick in the car. We didn't make it to the party. I ended up with an unopened half gallon bottle of Mojito sitting in my fridge, calling it an early night and having nightmares about bugs spicing up their bug sex life by rolling around in my sauteed potatoes.
Now normally - a bottle of mojito and me are automatically good friends but the friendship is brief because I will drink that bitch up. However, the reason for the unopened bottle is because the next day, my throat began to throb and hurt whenever I swallowed. Little did I know this was the beginning of what would ultimately end up as strep throat with a sprinkling of the flu. I was a zombie Monday and Tuesday - living off of mushy foods, liquids and medicine.
When Wednesday came around, my left lymph node was swollen to what felt like the size of a small ping pong ball only this ping pong ball was made of puss filled flesh.
Tasty.
It also felt as if my throat had one of those one way only spikes you see at parking lots and anything that I attempted to swallow was immediately going the wrong way. By the time I made it to the doctor's office on Thursday, I could barely swallow my own spit without crying out to sweet baby Jesus for mercy. She gave me some antibiotics that was about the size of a small child and told me to take TWO of these baby sized pills twice a day right AFTER I told her that I felt like soiling myself whenever I swallowed anything bigger than a rice krispy. Thanks doc.
And why is it that EVERY TIME I go to the doctor's office the conversation always leads back to my crotch??
I know, I know, this post is long enough without me going off on doctor's crazy obsession with pap smearing me until I'm smeared the fuck out. But seriously, I was in the office but 10 minutes with a throat bigger than my own head trying to tell her via sign language that I haven't eaten in a week and she wants to know about how the citizens are doing in Vagina Valley and when can she schedule a day to go downtown and have a visit?
Um Vagina Valley is fine thank you - now can we please address the unborn twin that has made an appearance in my throat? Thanks.
Long story cut short - I'm fine now .....
and I have a pap smear scheduled next week.
