For any followers of Xanga's illustrious "Gerbs11" it may come as no surprise that I have been following my passion of bluegrass with the best group of bandmates anyone could ask for. We call ourselves "Rescue Junction" because my mom didn't like "Sonic Death Monkey" and we released our first recording last fall.
Since this blog is a self ascribed pedestal for me to herald my life from, it should also come as no surprise that I will do just that. So pull out your wallets and mark off your calendars because you're invited to join us (Rescue Junction, not Sonic Death Monkey) on the Sail & Sing Christian Cruise that will spirit you from Seattle, WA to the majestic world of Alaska.
Groups/Artists such as The Coblentz Family, John Schmid and Ryan & Friends will be "headlining" the tour and according to previous tour-guests, it is a highly populated Amish & Mennonite affair. Should make for some awkward poolside encounters
Sign up and make sure you mention you're with Rescue Junction. You get extra fluff in your pillows and first choice of the lifeboats.
Call the number in the video or e-mail moi at rescuejunction@hotmail.com for more information.
Wednesday 27 June 2012
Saturday 2 June 2012
My Week So Far
*WARNING* This post contains graphic violence
I would like to take you, my dear friends and family, on a journey into what this week has consisted of.
Tuesday - I awake at 10 AM, confused as to why I'm still in bed when I should be at my desk, before reality hits and I spring forward to face the adventure of the day. I'm off to have my four wisdom teeth pulled. Yanked. Pried from the grasp of my nagging gums. There is a brief pause in my focus as I search our house for an umbrella as Mother Nature has decided to unleash what appears to be a horizontal hurricane. Then I race over to work, pick up my Father and head to the dentist's.
I arrive in perfect time (as is my style) and take a seat with a random edition of Sports Illustrated that I distractedly flip through after signing a paper that basically gives them the right to rip my mouth apart. Shortly after, a nurse/dentist-sidekick comes out and makes me drink down a shot of a warm, thick blue substance. Bottoms up. She returns about 15 minutes later and I stand up at which point I realize I have no sense of up or down, side to side or what exactly is happening to my body. She helps me find my way to The Room as I bump into walls and corners to the entertainment of all until I happily collapse on the dentist chair and calmly await the gruesome scene to unfold.
Enter Dentist.
He begins with the freezing (which is the Sunday School Picnic) and then proceeds to ask me questions as all dentists do. Then it begins. The first tooth is excellent, already through the gum, and he yanks that no problemo. The second is my lower right side and he has to cut in, rip it out, yada yada, until success. I remember wondering why he was flossing my teeth before I realized he was putting stitches in.
The third is much like the first, only easier. So easy in fact that I don't believe even the dentist is prepared for how quickly it obligingly dismisses itself from the gum. And into my mouth. And then falls back into my throat where I proceed to cough/gag on it until the nurse/dentist-sidekick heroically vacuums it out with one of the many suction things that are racing about in my mouth.
But the fourth and last tooth was apparently sent from Lucifer to destroy me. It seems to take an eternity as the dentist switches between what feels like a tiny saw and a gigantic pair of pliers as he tugs and cuts and pulls and yanks. I feel that sucker wrapping it's tentacle-ly little arms around the very base of my jaw (where NO freezing seemed to reach) before my Dentist and Jesus won the victory over that little demon. When Mr. Dentist is finished, I realize there is blood all over the room! Well, at least on his glasses, gloves, mouth-cover-thing...
I am then paraded through the waiting room and released to my Father who heroically returns me home where I fall into an unconscious stupor before the searing pain sets in. Enter Tylenol 3.
Wednesday - I awake looking like this:
Only white. And not as happy.
I spent a vast majority of my day vomiting everything I tried to put down (apparently I did not react well to the anti-biotics). Do you have any idea what it's like to suffer what seems to be non-stop vomit with a face twice its normal size and a jaw that won't open properly?
It's awful.
Thursday - Continued to look like Fat Albert but with a more successful stomach. Became increasingly depressed with my face and when Mom and Dad took me out for a milkshake, insisted on sitting behind tinted windows and NO leaving the vehicle.
Friday - The first day I recognized any actual difference in facial swelling. I spent my entire morning and afternoon simultaneously watching movies and Road to Avonlea episodes non-stop and serving as a personal couch to my giant cat, Pippin. I did suffer through watching my sister and her boyfriend happily stuff themselves with Papa Johns pizza before I retired for the evening. The newest development is a light, yellow bruising that can only be mistaken for someone gently rubbing my cheeks with dandelions.
Saturday - Today I've noticed a more considerable amount of happy change to my face, have successfully kept all my food down and currently have no signs of infection. KNOCK ON WOOD!
I am hoping to look more like a human instead of a human that ate another human by tomorrow morning.
As far as my current diet has been going, I've been working my way through "100 Different Ways to Eat Potatoes" (currently I've completed "mashed", "in potato soup" and "the innards of a Tater-Tot") and of course have injested the classic applesauce, ice cream, scrambled eggs, chocolate milk, pineapple juice, water, and Gatorade throughout the course of the week. And coffee, praise God.
Incidentally, I'm compiling a list of foods/restaurants I'll be visiting as soon as this mouth allows: McDonalds Junior Chickens and FRIESSSS, The KEG Steakhouse, Shawarma, Poutine, Chinese, Taco Bell (for as many cheesy beef burritos as I can possibly stand), Papa-Blessed-Johns and any and all burger joints I can find.
And that's just Day 1.
I would like to take you, my dear friends and family, on a journey into what this week has consisted of.
Tuesday - I awake at 10 AM, confused as to why I'm still in bed when I should be at my desk, before reality hits and I spring forward to face the adventure of the day. I'm off to have my four wisdom teeth pulled. Yanked. Pried from the grasp of my nagging gums. There is a brief pause in my focus as I search our house for an umbrella as Mother Nature has decided to unleash what appears to be a horizontal hurricane. Then I race over to work, pick up my Father and head to the dentist's.
I arrive in perfect time (as is my style) and take a seat with a random edition of Sports Illustrated that I distractedly flip through after signing a paper that basically gives them the right to rip my mouth apart. Shortly after, a nurse/dentist-sidekick comes out and makes me drink down a shot of a warm, thick blue substance. Bottoms up. She returns about 15 minutes later and I stand up at which point I realize I have no sense of up or down, side to side or what exactly is happening to my body. She helps me find my way to The Room as I bump into walls and corners to the entertainment of all until I happily collapse on the dentist chair and calmly await the gruesome scene to unfold.
Enter Dentist.
He begins with the freezing (which is the Sunday School Picnic) and then proceeds to ask me questions as all dentists do. Then it begins. The first tooth is excellent, already through the gum, and he yanks that no problemo. The second is my lower right side and he has to cut in, rip it out, yada yada, until success. I remember wondering why he was flossing my teeth before I realized he was putting stitches in.
The third is much like the first, only easier. So easy in fact that I don't believe even the dentist is prepared for how quickly it obligingly dismisses itself from the gum. And into my mouth. And then falls back into my throat where I proceed to cough/gag on it until the nurse/dentist-sidekick heroically vacuums it out with one of the many suction things that are racing about in my mouth.
But the fourth and last tooth was apparently sent from Lucifer to destroy me. It seems to take an eternity as the dentist switches between what feels like a tiny saw and a gigantic pair of pliers as he tugs and cuts and pulls and yanks. I feel that sucker wrapping it's tentacle-ly little arms around the very base of my jaw (where NO freezing seemed to reach) before my Dentist and Jesus won the victory over that little demon. When Mr. Dentist is finished, I realize there is blood all over the room! Well, at least on his glasses, gloves, mouth-cover-thing...
I am then paraded through the waiting room and released to my Father who heroically returns me home where I fall into an unconscious stupor before the searing pain sets in. Enter Tylenol 3.
Wednesday - I awake looking like this:
Only white. And not as happy.
I spent a vast majority of my day vomiting everything I tried to put down (apparently I did not react well to the anti-biotics). Do you have any idea what it's like to suffer what seems to be non-stop vomit with a face twice its normal size and a jaw that won't open properly?
It's awful.
Thursday - Continued to look like Fat Albert but with a more successful stomach. Became increasingly depressed with my face and when Mom and Dad took me out for a milkshake, insisted on sitting behind tinted windows and NO leaving the vehicle.
Friday - The first day I recognized any actual difference in facial swelling. I spent my entire morning and afternoon simultaneously watching movies and Road to Avonlea episodes non-stop and serving as a personal couch to my giant cat, Pippin. I did suffer through watching my sister and her boyfriend happily stuff themselves with Papa Johns pizza before I retired for the evening. The newest development is a light, yellow bruising that can only be mistaken for someone gently rubbing my cheeks with dandelions.
Saturday - Today I've noticed a more considerable amount of happy change to my face, have successfully kept all my food down and currently have no signs of infection. KNOCK ON WOOD!
I am hoping to look more like a human instead of a human that ate another human by tomorrow morning.
As far as my current diet has been going, I've been working my way through "100 Different Ways to Eat Potatoes" (currently I've completed "mashed", "in potato soup" and "the innards of a Tater-Tot") and of course have injested the classic applesauce, ice cream, scrambled eggs, chocolate milk, pineapple juice, water, and Gatorade throughout the course of the week. And coffee, praise God.
Incidentally, I'm compiling a list of foods/restaurants I'll be visiting as soon as this mouth allows: McDonalds Junior Chickens and FRIESSSS, The KEG Steakhouse, Shawarma, Poutine, Chinese, Taco Bell (for as many cheesy beef burritos as I can possibly stand), Papa-Blessed-Johns and any and all burger joints I can find.
And that's just Day 1.
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