Yea ...

I was trying to think of a good title for this one and couldn't. I did think of a good photo for it, but you'll be grateful I spared you ---- don't worry, that will make sense in just a minute.

So we all know we're currently living in absolute "where the hell is ___" renovation clutter. Another fact of renovation clutter: it is harder to walk through your house in the dark without walking into things & cussing loudly. Much Harder. And then your spouse tries to say you've really just had too much to drink, but you're pretty certain you don't actually own a shop-vac, so how could you expect one to be sitting in the middle of the hallway (ok, maybe I wasn't walking SO straight a line officer)?

We also all know I am not your fluffy-kitty-fuzzy-rainbow-butterfly kinda gal. I think Justin smells the best when he smells of burning wood (tsk - you perverts, not that kind of burning wood!! bbq, campfires, THAT type!) or garlic. Seriously, he needn't buy cologne (which is good since he doesn't), he just has to rub garlic all over himself.
I also find humor in being gross. At least sometimes. Yes, farts are funny. Except when they're not. Other than that, they're funny.

Trust me this is all leading somewhere. And it may not be anywhere you want to see/read so consider yourself forewarned. But if you've read this blog before you're already pretty damn demented.

SO -- I had minor mouth surgery about 2 weeks ago. Quick recap - I had to have my tongue clipped when I was very little because it was connected too close up. Roughly 18 years later I had my tongue pierced. Fast forward another 14 years & there is now a receded cleft of sorts behind my two front lower teeth caused in part by the tongue ring and in part because there was little there to protect the area in the first place. So .. mouth surgery it was.
They used cadaver tissue. Have I told you all this? I think I have. Anyway, Frankenstein jokes abound. Grossing Justin out has been the highlight of this whole damn experience. I now offer to do all the things husbands want their wives to do .... ok ... well, ONE of the things. His look of horror and disgust leaves me rolling on the floor laughing. I think I may be off the hook for that for a WHILE.

But the thing is, the tissue is getting loose. I can fold it over. It is annoying as hell. I am very OCD. It is also starting to smell. Like, 'Night of the Living Dead' rotting flesh smell. At first it was minor, now it is full blown B horror movie smell. I am seeing the doc today (apparently this is normal). The only thing that has gotten me through to this part is 1) the smell makes my wait in lines a LOT shorter. And 2) grossing Justin out with endless details and views.

Which brings me almost to a point of this rambling little whatever. ??

So I get out of the shower the other morning and am air-drying (better for the skin!) in my bedroom. I spot the cell phone. Evil thoughts go racing through my head. I hold up the camera part of it trying to get photos. NO .. NOT NUDIE photos!!! Photos of my Frankenstein Rotting Zombie Mouth. ~ Seriously, you guys are perverts!
Here I am, trying to figure out how to take a perfectly disgusting picture to email to Justin at work and really mess with him. And I hear a "Hello..." ----- it was the contractor. (PS -- This is the photo that you're now very glad I didn't post)

Normally the kids are great warning bells when someone comes over. The day I'm sitting naked on my bed holding a camera at my mouth, they're quiet and have no intention of letting me know someone is here.

I quickly race into the 1/2 bath in our bedroom. He says "sorry" though I am not sure he saw me at all. At least I hope not. I am not sure really how to explain any of what he might have seen. I reach an arm around, slam the bedroom door shut and quickly get dressed. He was there to tell me he wouldn't actually be working in the house that day. Phone calls are seemingly impossible. Somewhere Karma is rolling on the floor --- I really think Justin has some mind control to keep me in my place when it comes to stuff like that.

There is my story. There is my weirdness. Most women like fuzzy rainbows and are more interested in sending sexy photos. I nearly get busted by the contractor trying to send pictures of the Zombie grossness that is my mouth to my husband. *C'est La Vie*