Good Karma Takes a Holiday
(I'm going to impart some friendly advance warning about the entry that follows:
it's scattered at best and incoherent at worst. As you were).

I've been looking forward to this evening for three weeks. It's my opportunity to see two of my friends remount "The Compleat Wrks of Wllm Shkspr (Abridged)" in a three-man show as part of the local Fringe Festival.

I had chosen an outfit, roped my sister into being my date and booked the event into my handheld.
We were set, baby.

I should have known.

Fate seemed to wake from some sort of alcohol-induced slumber sometime through the night, deciding that I'd had just about as much good karma as I was entitled to lately. He (because trust me on this, fate is just warped enough to be a He) warmed up his magic wand or Chinese throwing stars or whatever and aimed his Bad JuJu smack dab at my head as I slept.

In the course of the past 12 hours, I got my period three days early, developed a killer headache/muscle spasm dealie, my date bailed, my hair is doing this Brillo-pad thing, my outfit looks hideous due to the above-mentioned period bloat and I have sprouted five zits, one of which is actually causing me to resemble a cyclops.

At least I have a wondeful colour of polish on my toes. I can always flaunt them at the theatre, possibly taking the attention away from my ghoulish visage. No, my toes would have to be much larger with the ability to sing and tap dance to carry off that feat. (Feat, feet, get it? Ha!)

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My previously troublesome tooth now looks like it did in 1982, before I even had the cavity in the first place. I'd forgotten how much the dentist reefs on your mouth, though. And you don't even have the opportunity to make any sort of snarky comment, as you have a mouth full of rubber dam and metal braces. He did his best to distract me, providing the hygenist and myself with a running commentary of my filling replacement. Best he keep his day job, though and not head for the bright lights of Second City.

If I could figure out how to download my digicam pics to my computer, you could see my new tooth in all it's gleaming whiteness. Someday. Maybe.

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My Secret Pal continues to make me giggle and waste time at work with games, puzzles and ecards that attempt to give me hints about gifties to come in the mail. It's really one of the best months I've had since this whole thing began. (Note to SP: Thanks, dude. It's obvious you're really putting a lot of thought into my prezzies.)

Posted at 1:48 p.m.