In the olden days I regularly posted to my blog even when my life had gone all pear-shaped. And the pear had gone rotten. And someone then stepped on the rotten pear. And then the rotten pear was tracked out onto the dirty streets and distributed to the vultures and ravens and those greasy mean birds whose name I forget.
I should make a disclaimer: I am pear-shaped. SO pear-shaped. And I take comfort in the fact that it’s more healthy than being apple-shaped. But one’s OWN shape is very different from the shape of one’s life.
Many things have happened and not happened. Now don’t think I’ve lost my profound edge. Many of these events, however, deserve to be revealed with lovely pictures and poetic words. And as my computer is… hibernating, I cannot do such entries justice. Oh – IT IS NOT DEAD! I just have jiggled the power cord input into a mess and haven’t yet had the nerve to attack the thing with jeweler’s screwdrivers. And a mallet. And unlike when my motherboard AND hard drive crashed, removing all the keys and cleaning out the feline hair with compressed air doesn’t seem like the answer.
And on a completely unrelated note, SHEESH! You could hang meat under this desk!!! I’m going to get hypothermia. (Stupid Windows machines.)
Let’s just cover something stupid I’ve done, then. There is ALWAYS a plethora of blunders from which to pick. And if my life’s misadventures entertain even ONE person, my mission is complete. Or something.
As evidenced by the fact that I have an ENTIRE category entitled “I fell down,” those who know me well are aware that I am capable an impressive variety of mishaps. This one is new. And for the sake of argument let’s rate things by the standard of “better than a poke in the eye” or NOT. This is NOT.
If you’ve not stopped reading already, I shall end the suspense and let you know what I did:
I lacerated myself (specifically the corner of my mouth) with food. Yes, FOOD.
In my defense, organic tortilla chips are DANGEROUSLY SHARP! And please consider the alarming sensation of the salsa that smothered the offending chip. ¡AY, CARAMBA! Nevertheless, I shall NOT write a strongly-worded letter to the organic tortilla chip people, because then they’d have to put a WARNING on the bag about the fact the chips should not be used as weapons, and it smacks of the kind of warning my mom and I were discussing the other day. She’d been reading the safety precautions for a hairdryer and one of the warnings was, and this is deadly serious: “DO NOT USE WHILE SLEEPING.” The thing is, they have to put these disclaimers because SOMEONE ACTUALLY DID WHATEVER THEY MENTIONED. So, no, I do not want to be the “BEWARE THE KNIFE-LIKE EDGES ON OUR CHIPS” person.
But here’s where I got into a quandary (mild, I will say, but a quandary nonetheless). This wound is NOT a cold sore or a fever blister. However, as it is right on the corner of my mouth, thus:
I tried a variety of remedies: Unrefined shea butter (lovely stuff, but better for HEALED wounds), Smith’s Rosebud Salve, a Burt’s Bees® “protective” product that evidently they don’t make anymore (never knew its intended use – the packaging is VAGUE, making me wonder now if it is intended for one’s – em – nether regions), Neosporin® Lip Health™ Overnight Renewal Therapy™, and no doubt I threw some Bag Balm® in there somewhere. I realized that over-moisturizing of the wretched sore was NOT really helping. I needed antiseptic. Or a face-lift.
I broke down and went to – you guessed it – the cold sore and fever blister section in the store. I shall restate that one. I sought out the CURES for cold sores and fever blisters in the store. I have NOT been suffering the “pain and itching associated with cold sores” so that wasn’t really any help; an analgesic wasn’t the point. I didn’t need the surprisingly expensive “quick” treatments with the “serious medicine.” And forgive me, “Herpecin-L” folks, but it seems like we’ve moved AWAY from naming the CURE after the DISEASE. At the very least you could append an “ANTI” to the beginning. I’m just not inclined to purchase, say, “Mysterious Rash or Boil” cream. I might be SLIGHTLY more likely to purchase “ANTI-Mysterious Rash and Boil” cream, but OY WEH! [DISCLAIMER: I have not purchased any variety of cream or salve in that category. Recently anyway.]
Anyhoo, this is what I finally chose:
It’s inexpensive, it’s antiseptic, and I smell faintly like a ninety-two-year-old dowager. More importantly, it seems to be working. So HUZZAH for Campho-Phenique®!
Ooooh. That reminds me of my fondness for Tiger Balm Sports Balm (ULTRA-strength non-staining!). I carry oodles of tension in my shoulders and neck and I’m crooked (my BODY is crooked, this is NOT a statement of my ethical propensities… oh, never mind). I used to slather the stuff on. Suffice it to say it’s STRONG-SMELLING. One might say über-fragrant, in fact. This was NOT a popular choice with my erstwhile spouse. I personally think that sleeping in the same bed with someone who reeks so strongly of sinus-clearing vapours might be a GOOD thing, but I guess NOT.