|
Boy Scouts and Parting Wisdom |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Interesting topics, hunh? I thought so. I guess I better explain the purpose behind the 2-part topic title.
The first, Boy Scouts. Semi-self-explicable. Young boys, gradually developing into young men, through series of tasks to earn badges and scale the ladder of Scout hierarchy by gaining new titles. Can start fires with practically nothing. Know how to make knots. Know how to make even more knots. If dropped off in the middle of the wilderness, could survive on the bare minimum or less.
To be terribly blunt for a moment, Boy Scouts in general never really mattered to me. None of my friends were partaking in the association, and no one had ever encouraged me to drop the organization I was already in, Indian Princesses at the YMCA (now renamed because of political inaccuracy to "Nature Princesses" wink , in favor of Girl Scouts (which, quite frankly, sucks compared to Boy Scouts in the fact that less camping and wilderness training activities are observed and attention is instead directed in a more "hobby-ish" arena). My first encounter with a real, live, personal Boy Scout was a fellow by the name of Ben, who I met through his girlfriend, Tracey. Even then, I was un-wowed, mostly because there were so many other aspects about Ben that could wow a person that the fact that he was a Boy Scout was kinda left on the wayside as a footnote or something less noticeable. The first Girl Scout I met was my dear best friend Ryanou-chan ( heart ), and that made a bit more impact on me than Ben's Boy-Scout-ish-ness, only because the time Ryanou spent with the her troupe was less time spent talking to me or playing with me (yes, selfish, I know, but if you know Ryanou-chan the way I do, you'd want to spend every breathing moment being teased to no end by her, too!)
With all of this taken into consideration, Scouting was not really a huge part in my life. Now let's bounce back to my previous journal entry, in which I revealed I have my first boyfriend. Well, the wondrous and brilliant Jeremiah-kun is a Boy Scout. The first impact this had was the fact that he a) couldn't attend some of the after-school activities because of Scout meetings. The second was that he b) couldn't speak with me as much for the same reason. OK, that's fine, I can handle it, right? Well, summer comes rollin' 'round like it always does, and Voila! let there be Scout Camp, a week-long venture out into the middle of somewhere to be crammed into lean-to's and perform various merit-badge-worthy tasks. That sounds like fun to me, but I can't participate (as previously explained, I am lacking the Scoutage required) while Jeremiah does. So, that's a week away with only one chance to send in letters through his mom. He left Sunday. It's Tuesday. *shiku, shiku* crying
So that's half the title. The other half directly relates to what will be occupying me the majority of this week. Yesterday, I had all four impacted wisdom teeth pulled. xp
... stare Yeah.... Oodles of fun. They gave me the option to either have local anesthetic or to completely knock me out. To this, I responded in an only half-joking manner, "If knocking me out means hiring a cave-man to beat me senseless with a wooden club, then by all means, club away." No cave-man was hired. Instead, the just drugged me up via needle and warned me that I would be a tad loopy before and after falling asleep. Well, for those who know me *heh* I'm always a tad loopy, so the doctors all had slightly worried looks on their faces when they hadn't even pricked me yet. ^_^;;; I was settled into a giant wet-concrete-colored, fake-leather lounge-ish chair that looked slightly lopsided, because one side had a freakishly large armrest for the arm with the I.V. stuck in the crook of it, while the other was a shriveled limb compared to the monstrous partner. The nurse who led me into the room that smelled just like any other medical facility (sanitizer, plastic, chrome, and the slightest rusty scent of blood) directed me to the chair, and she quickly strapped me up; two large plastic clamps on my wrists to monitor my pulse and a strange little plastic clip the snuggly fit over my left thumb to monitor my breathing. The thing attached to my thumb of course was hooked up to a machine that beeped in accordance to my breathing patterns and occassionally altered in pitch and speed at my slightest movememnt. This made me wonder what would happen if I performed a series of sommersaults around the room with the clap still attached to my thumb. Being the good girl I am *rolls eyes* I decided against it, but voiced the thought to the poor nurse who gave me a nervous laugh and proceeded to have poorly hushed conversation with a fellow nurse behind me in thoroughly worried tones.
When I woke up, I was still in the lounge chair, but that quickly changed when the same worried nurse re-entered with a wheel chair to cart me over to a room nextdoor. There, my mom came in, and she was incapable to stiffling her laughter at my steadily swelling cheeks that impeeded understandable speech. Any words utilized from my fairly large vocaublary were slurred and mushed like they had been heated up in a microwave and mixed into a bowl of oatmeal. It also didn't help that I had two cotton wads shoved into the far corners of my mouth to cushion my bruised and bleeding jaw. I didn't feel any different than normal, and when the nurses asked me about my progress and how I was feeling, I would answer, "Schplendihd." That was the last straw for my mom, who burst into tears from hysteric laughter. I was beginning to worry if any anesthetic had somehow gotten to her and I asked if she was feeling like the "responsible adult" that was supposed to drive me safely home. Eventually, I was given the nod of approval to be taken away, and my mom, still chuckling, lead me to the car.
Now, my humble diet consists of smoothies, buttered noodles, ice cream, and ramen, with the occassional soft muffin or fluffy buttered bagel. In other words, all healthy stuff. xd Every once and a while, I'll cover up my face with ice packets to reduce the swelling, which after careful tending yesterday, isn't nearly as bad as it was predicted to be. All in all, none too bad. Oh, but plenty of pain killers so huge they could choke a horse. They sure do the trick. sweatdrop
So.... Yeah, pretty much it. I get to vegge out because the doctors deemed me incapable of doing ANY forms of physical labor for the next three days (why three?) so I essentially will now get the only taste of true summer vacation while my mouth is full of stitches. Hmmm... I think I'll test fate a little later and play some DDR. ^_^
Ja, ne!?
~Marala-chan
P.S. I'm still bummin' that I have YET to see "Prince Caspian" in theatres. ): Though, maybe this is better, so then I can rent it. Because if I go in theatres, I will yell at the screen during the SusanxCaspian bits, which I'm TOTALLY against (never really liked Susan, I've always been a die-hard Lucy fan xp ).
 Marala-chan · Tue Jun 24, 2008 @ 08:19pm · 3 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
