The Jowly Haole

February 27, 2010 at 6:35 pm (That's not funny...)

I don’t feel pretty today.

My head hurts.

You could offer me cheese and crackers to go with my whine, but I’d politely decline. My tooth hurts, too.

I have one of those sinusitis headache/toothaches. I get one every time someone mentions Harvey Dent from The Dark Knight. My face feels like Harvey’s face looks. I came down with it when the movie premiered in theaters. When I checked the movie out of the library the other day, I started getting a toothache. Coincidence? I’d bet on it, but it makes it difficult to appreciate the film when every heartbeat reminds you you’re in pain.

I am fortunate that this has happened on a weekend. I’m not sick enough to miss work, but feel crappy enough that I don’t want to go out. Unlike previous Saturday nights, I had things I could have done tonight. I just can’t force myself to go out in public and deal with stares from people that know me, wondering what’s different.

I’ll tell you what’s different: It looks like I’m holding a golf ball-sized wad of chewing tobacco next to my lower left jaw. The root has swollen. Maybe it’s a gland. Whatever it is, at certain angles I have a square face, and other angles I look like Jay Leno. (Not the point in his career for that to be a benefit.) I look in the mirror and see an older version of Rocky from Mask.

The cherry on top? I have a cold sore that would make Paris Hilton run for the medicine cabinet.

As Angel would say, “You a mess.”

So what am I doing this lovely Saturday night? Laundry. I spent the afternoon watching news reports of tsunami warnings in Hawaii, where my older brother lives. Not since they dug up Ward Weaver’s back yard on TV have I been so transfixed by a static TV shot. (It’s more relaxing than the Yule Log, which makes me crave whiskey.) It was nice, in a way. I did what I’d do at the beach; watch the surf come in. The walk to the bathroom is shorter, and there are no ants or seagull poop to deal with. I showered today, but didn’t have to. I have enough beard scruff to look like Glen Campbell on a bender. I might make it all day without putting on shoes. I’m wearing clown clothes, AKA my laundry outfit. Stuff too big and tore up to wear in public.

The cold sore is fading fast, and the jaw-swelling is going down, though not as quickly as I’d like. I’d love to have something more, um, social to do tonight, but everything seems to be telling me to stay home and TCB.

I hear the washing machine spinning itself to sleep. Maybe after fetching clothes I’ll try to eat something.

All the soft foods are gone now? Ouch.

No wine. No crackers. Just me, bein’ cheesy…

1 Comment

  1. splizz said,

    Damn Homie, take care o’ that shizzle!!! Hope ya feel better lickity split. I just so happen to be writin’ you this comment on faiths computer, which I’m fixin’ right now at home. Yes, that faith…..grin….

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