Good Enough

mia: i'll try to see if i can get a ticket for you!
Mesha: when is it again?
mia: [date]
Mesha: hmm
oh why not, if you can find one
mia: COOL

Little was I to know that a casual acquiescence would drop-kick me into my very first rock concert experience.

In the days leading up to the event, Mia tried to rile me up in anticipation of the concert. Dropping a brick onto the CAPS key and cementing it there, she promised, with multiple messages, that I would be "jumping up and down", "screaming" with "excitement", terms as foreign to me as the concept of diet. Or exercise. She wanted to sing Evanescence's songs the day before the concert, so that I could memorize them as she had obviously done. She wanted to become a permanent fixture outside of Amy Lee's trailer, braving wind and rain for a signature on some overpriced merchandise. She wanted to do blood sacrifices and promise her future newborns to her goth queen. I may have made up one of the previous statements.

The day of the concert was dreary and cold. This was obviously going to be a true emo experience. Like a whirlwind, Mia rushed us all to the bus stop and allowed us all of 5 minutes to inhale our burgers in order to get into the stadium early. Possessing cheap floor tickets that Mia had acquired through nefarious ingenuous means, we headed in with the anticipation of having to claw and kick our way into getting decent standing room. Surprisingly, the floor was only probably 1/5th full, and we had no trouble standing within clear view of the stage. Looking around me, I saw countless giggling teenage girls and their posses, tattoo-ed bald rocker guys who were obviously there only for Stone Sour, and a handful of goth/emo teens who were dressed like their idol. I was about to make a mean quip about them in my catty little head when I had the misfortune to look down at what I was wearing. Jacket: Black. Blouse: Maroon and Black. Pants: Black. Shoes: Black. DAMMIT.

My sole pre-concert entertainment gone, I grumpily sat down and conversed with my friends. Mia was predictably excited, and made sure I knew it via enthusiastic eeeees' and nearly puncturing my shoulder with her bony grip. Eric, a brother-of-a-friend, stared at everything around us, taking stock of the world that existed beyond his often solitary one. Ish, the den-mother of the group, cheerfully escorted us (the girls) individually to the bathroom before the show started. If you're wondering, we're not in kindergarten. Holding in your pee is BAD.

After approximately 30 minutes of partially listening to some high schoolers in front of me gab about their drama-infused lives, the lights went out. The show was finally on! The lead-in band was called the Black Maria. A cursory myopic glance told me that the lead singer was quite cute, in a Brandon Flowers sort of way. (But after looking at their website, not so much. Darkness and stage lights apparently do wonders). He seemed eager and enthusiastic, earnest even. Too bad that was all the band had going for them. The instruments were forgettable, the singing/screaming rather thin. The singer obviously needed to develop more powerful vocal cords, or just spare us all the misery of waiting for the other bands to come on. At this point some rocker dudes beside us started screaming for them to get off the stage. The singer told the audience to hold up their cellphones/lighters, those guys happily responded by raising their pinkies in the air. Kidding, you know which finger. At this point, I started feeling sorry for the band and decided to temporarily adopt them as my baby band. Unfortunately, my feelings of goodwill were outlived by my ADD. I gave up straining my neck to follow their movements and instead got really well acquainted with the back of Ish's head. She has really nice hair.

5 or 6 songs later, the Black Maria finally ended their mewling and ceded the stage to Stone Sour. The lead singer, Corey Taylor, strode out to the front of the stage, smirked at the audience, and gave the one-finger salute. Something told me it was going to be a long night. Although I was pre-warned about the crudeness of the lead singer, it was hard not to feel aghast at the constant spitting and chucking of half-full water bottles. Into the audience. Of course, this was when the moshing began. The crowd surfing, I could stand. The pushing and mock fights, which happened a few people away from us, not so much. I pacified my urge to feed the whole lot of them to barracudas by trying to trip the people who were rudely pushing past us.
Stone Sour's first song was a adrenaline-fueled metal number. Corey Taylor made me giggle as he opened by swinging his long, blond locks round and round and round and...hehehe. It was inherently amusing to watch a grown man fling his hair around like a pampered pop princess. Though I'm sure that wasn't the intention. Much as I hated to admit it, the man was quite charismatic, trailer trash looks and obscenity-laden diatribes aside. He played the audience quite well with his cocky demeanour and anti-Bush/government statements. People were even clamouring for his spit-filled water bottles that he would toss out after chugging on them. One of them headed straight for me, so I ducked and it hit Eric in the chest. He slowly bent to pick it up but some drunk fans beat him to it and drank from the bottle.
Although I enjoyed Stone Sour's "Through Glass", I couldn't really get into their louder songs. Not being a metal fan, I don't really understand the intricacies of high-amped bass lines and unintelligible screaming. However, from what I could see, the audience enjoyed it thoroughly. Compared to the lukewarm reception of Black Maria, people were more actively involved, pumping their fists into the air, jumping up and down, and singing along with the band. If they came solely for Stone Sour, I'd say they got their money's worth.

Stone Sour took their leave of the stage after 7 or 8 songs. By then, my feet were feeling really sore. Finally, the curtains lifted and Evanescence launched into a punchy rock number. Mia, having secretly practiced her concert screams at home, did herself proud by shattering my eardrums with the otherworldly shriek she elicited at the sight of Amy Lee. I, however, was transfixed by the pretty grand piano that rose onto the stage via some secret chamber/lift thing. I had to discard my plans to steal it though, the security guards looked pretty strong. And mean. Though the younger, hotter one earns cool points for this following incident:

[Idiot taking pictures on his camera phone in broad light (Cameras were banned)]
Hot Security Guard: At least wait till the lights are out so that we can't see you take pictures!

Evanescence performed mostly from their new album, with a couple of the popular, older ones thrown in. I was definitely impressed with how strong Amy Lee's voice was, it was definitely as good as, or just slightly worse than, the CD. Although most of the songs sounded familiar to me, I couldn't quite remember the lyrics to sing, or even mouth along. I have horrible memory with lyrics. I never forget names, but when I attempt to sing a song in my head, I tend to make up weird lyrics that were never in the song in the first place. Anyway, I loved the songs that she performed on the piano (obviously), but the newer, more rockish songs were lost on me. So, I decided to stare at my friends, who were standing in front of me. Ish, being the cool person that she is, merely nodded her head to the beat while singing along. Eric was swallowed up by the crowd somewhere behind me. Mia, on the other hand, was completely unrestrained in her enthusiasm for the songs. She cheered (loudly), she sang (enthusiastically), and she pumped her fist in the air (unfortunately, half a beat too late). I could only marvel at her enthusiasm and wonder why, even though I enjoyed the songs, I couldn't muster the same level of energy and excitement that she exuded.

14 songs and an encore later, the concert finally ended. We waded out there, only to find that the coat-check/item-retrieval line was 12352 miles long, and guess who needed her stupid $35 umbrella? Yep. Ironically, the jacketless and bagless Mia was the only one who had to deposit her umbrella with the storage fairies. Even better: her umbrella is black. Guess how many black umbrellas there were in the claims area? After giving up the notion of strangling Mia, we decided to aid her in the quest of sifting through hundreds of unclaimed black umbrellas. Next time, she is totally getting a neon pink one should she feel the urge to shield herself from the rain.

As we travelled home by bus, my ADD caught up with me again, and my mind drifted back to the concert. Although Amy Lee's singing was good, the enthusiasm and stage presence wasn't there. She briefly addressed the crowd once or twice, compared to the constant banter Corey Taylor kept up with the audience. After the final song, she just left the stage with a wave and a smile. The band members were not introduced throughout the performance. And in my opinion, some of the more haunting songs, like Lacrymosa, lost their eerie quality amidst the overpowering percussion. However, I have to say I enjoyed the experience (spitting and bottle chucking notwithstanding), and I wouldn't mind going to another concert, by a different band.

That said, does this:



Plus this:


Equal this?

Smiles are Not Free

Contrary to what McDonald's promises (besides crappy food), this particular trip to the surgeon cost me $800. To be fair though, he cut the fee from $1700 to $800, which was extremely nice of him. Anyway, let's get on to the part you've all been waiting for, my pain and suffering!

First of all, the day did not get off to a good start, what with me almost being late for my appointment at all. It was scheduled to be at 8:00 am, I think I arrived around 8:03. As some of you probably know, I get stressed out easily. Especially when I'm late, or think I'm late. Sooo, you can imagine that my blood pressure and heart rate were probably already off the charts when I stepped in the room. Now, let's talk about the operating room. The first thing I see is a bunch of monitors behind the chair. Okay, that doesn't look so bad, now what's next to the chair? Oh, a big-ass intravenous (IV) needle and some wicked looking instruments, mhm. WHAT? That's when I started hyperventilating a little. The very kind nurse or dental assistant started chatting me up in hopes of distracting me from the NEEDLE OF DOOM, but to no avail. I think I developed a temporary needle radar that squawked in my head every time she held up that stupid thing. Anyway, she tied a rubber band-thing on my upper arm to restrict the circulation, and to make the vein in my arm pop up more. She then put a warm compress on my arm and flicked the vein lightly, swabbed the site of the vein with alcohol and poised the NEEDLE OF DOOM.

***This is where you might want to stop reading, Maria***
"Okay, now count to three and hold your breath."
Crap, two, three, *wheeze*
Ow. The needle was in, and heck if I was going to look at something that's stuck in my arm, so I looked at the nurse's face instead. I certainly did not like the look of mild consternation that I saw there. She then proceeded to push the NEEDLE OF DOOM further in, and wiggled it around. To say it hurt would be like saying I eat moderately. The deeper the needle went, the more my STUPID VEIN slipped around and hid deeper. By then, my knees were shaking so badly, I had to use my free, as of yet unpoked arm to hold them down. But no, my knees weren't the only parts of my body that was apparently trying to escape the room. My upper body started shaking too, only it was in abrupt little jolts that made it seem like I was being electrocuted. Slowly. The Nurse fished around for that elusive vein for a few more minutes, and having finally decided it was futile, gave me a break and took the freaking thing out of my maimed arm.

"How do you feel? Are you okay"
"Yep! I'm fine!" And apparently the grimace of horror I gave right then was so terrifying she then put a gas mask on me and promised the nitrous gas would help me relax a bit, and hopefully, bring the veins up a little more. After a few minutes of inhaling that stuff, she then tried for my other arm. I was slowly dying inside. Warm compress, slight flicking and pinching of the veins, but the stupid thing also refused to surface.

"The gas isn't working, huh?"
"Hahaha...NOPE!" *PLACEBOPLACEBOPLACEBO* (Of course, that was just my paranoia talking; later I did find out that it really was nitrous gas)
"Hm... let's try your hand then!"
...What now? MY HAND? EWWWWWWWW
"Ok!" *Grins maniacally again*

To cut a long story short, that obviously didn't work either. Besides being buried way too deep due to my unrelenting wussiness, they were also way to tiny to be found in one jab.
The nurse laughed, "I bet you wish you had ugly, manly veins like mine!"
To which I answered cheerily "Yeah!" and promptly searched around for something to stab myself with. Is it too late, I wondered, to blame it on the gas mask?
Luckily, she didn't seem to mind my brainless comment, and proceeded to look for an available vein in my arm again. She gasped, "Okay, take a deep breath!"
*Wheeze....OWWW*
"There! We've finally got it in!" *She beams*

Total time to find the vein: 30 minutes

"Thanks for being so patient..."
"Oh, no! I feel really bad that you had to suffer through this...Let me just inject some of the medicine in right now to ease your pain as a reward for all the trauma you've been through"
*Yay!....Oooooh...the ceiling is dotty...like me....hehehehe*
The nurse then took advantage of my loopiness to attach some cuff thing on my arm and one of those things you put on your finger to monitor your blood pressure? Heart rate? One of those. By then I was too amused by the pretty view of the 7th floor to ask her what they were for.
*********************************************************************************

While I was busy enumerating the fascinating patterns on the ceiling, the good doctor must have ninja-ed his way behind my chair and injected the full sedative, because after that I was out out out.

What I didn't count on, however, was waking up when he was still TAKING INSTRUMENTS OUT OF MY MOUTH. Ignoring the throbbing pain on the right side of my mouth, I convinced myself that I was still drugged up and promptly closed my eyes. A few minutes later, I started tearing up, and the nurse asked if I was okay.

"Maybe your eyes are just watering...or sometimes the relief from the surgery being over is so strong that people tend to get emotional"
She then dabbed my eyes and handed me a tissue, promising to transport me to a room with some pillows and a blanket. Appeased, I lay back and tried to mumble my thanks. Hey, cool, my chin is frozen. And so is my upper lip! But my right side was still hurting like crazy, and I gibbered at the nurse to tell her just that. Being well versed in gauzed-mouth frozen-tongue speak, she immediately understood and gave my two Tylenol 3s, which definitely helped. She then helped my out of my chair, and brought me to a resting room. After my dad got the medicine from the pharmacy, I finally left the building.

To my great dismay, the tears still weren't stopping. And they weren't just flowing in a constant stream, the most bizzare things would trigger a bout of tears. Mind you, I wasn't crying/sobbing out loud, it was almost like an out-of-body experience, where I had no control over my tears.

Random things I blubbered over:
Red Sea Cafe - I shed a tear or two. Why couldn't they have made it the BLUE Sea Cafe? That's my favorite colour :(
My dad mentioning that we'd be eating congee today - More tears. I like congee! It's probably my favorite Chinese food! THEN WHY THE HECK AM I TEARING UP?!??
Office Depot - Oh the tears really flowed heavily on this one. Office Depot! It's so...commercial!!! It makes me so...yeah, I gave up on figuring out why I was crying over toner and printer paper.

They could've mentioned being hormonal as a side effect of the drugs :(

When I got home, I stumbled into bed and had a series of dreams. None of which would land me a prize for normalcy. However, the ones I can remember for now involve receptionists who metamorphosed into cherry-flavoured lollipops, and pedestrians and drivers who had no bodys, just heads. How they managed to propel themselves forward in their vehicles/noggins is beyond me. Oh, and one more involved me in Hawaii swimming with rainbow coloured sharks, then cooking them over a fire made with coconuts. Yeah, I don't know either.

On the bright side, other than the initial pain that was quickly cured by the Tylenol, the aftermath of the surgery was quite painless. Two wisdom teeth and two impacted premolars gone, baby! The only swelling I had was on my mouth, which, while they were no Jolie lips, were still quite pouty and amusing. The bleeding also stopped in half a day. I didn't even have to take Tylenol for the rest of the day!

Much kudos to Dr M. for being such an awesome surgeon who made the surgery go as smoothly and painlessly as possible. I'd definitely recommend him to anyone who hasn't had their wisdom teeth out yet. No swelling AND almost no pain? What more could you ask for! Thank you also to the nice nurse who tried to put me at ease while inserting the NEEDLE OF DOOM in my arm. Multiple times. Also, thanks for your prayers and well wishes, y'all! Unfortunately, I don't have any surgery trophies to show you guys, except that druggie-like bruise on my arm and numerous pills which Tracy took pictures of. Even the lips aren't swollen/pouty anymore. Pity.

My only regret was that I forgot to ask if I could keep the tooth they didn't cut up to pieces while extracting. I would've liked a souvenir. Oh well, at least it was not all in vein. The tooth is still out there! *Rim shot*