THE ONE WHERE PAT IS FULL OF RAGE

that's a movie/tv reference. any takers?

two things about my titles. a) i'm not shouting. kristen thinks i'm shouting, but i'm not. i just thought it would be funny to put my titles in all caps since i don't use caps in my posts. and 2) i think i'm done with this series of "the one where..."'s. it only slightly an homage to 'friends,' and moreso just boredom. ok, back to the rage.

FREAKIN DENTAL SCHOOL!!! sorry virginia. but DANGIT! ok, so of course last friday, i had all of my wisdom teeth out. it was a great experience, i was very pleased, and my doctor was attractive, so that helped. today, i had an appointment for a post-op checkup at 1pm. so i took a HALF day off from work. i was there at 10-til-1, signed in, and proceeded to wait for TWO. FREAKING. HOURS. i mean, seriously, people came in to have their wisdom teeth out that showed up, went in for surgery, and came out and left while i was still sitting there. i read EIGHT different time magazines in there (and i think...I THINK...somebody doesn't like george w. just a hunch.) and had to frequently go out and take walks. BUT i never went more than 20 feet away, so that i could hear if they called my name. so finally, i went out in the hall because this baby was driving me nuts, and i see virginia, who i had called two and a half hours before about lunch, and proceed to BEGIN a conversation with her, when the oral surgery secretary walks out. she sees me and smiles. 'did you just finish?' she asks. i weakly smile, 'no.' 'THEY HAVEN'T CALLED YOU YET?' 'no,' again with a slight smile. i'm really a nice guy. so she goes running back, and beckons me to follow. i go in, thinking 'ok i'm gonna be in here about a half an hour, and then i can eat.' i sit in my chair, wait another six minutes for the doc to show up (not the attractive one, but a dude), asks me if i'm in pain, looks in my mouth, gives me a syringe......and i'm done. three minutes, 26 seconds.

the rage still has not subsided. it has now been about 30 minutes since i left the office. maybe i should get something to eat....

THE ONE WHERE PAT HAS TO MAKE DECISIONS ON THE DIRECTION IN WHICH HIS LIFE IS GOING.

Not that making decisions on my blog will change my life, but you know...

This isn't a new thing with me. Every couple of weeks I have a quarter- to mid-life crisis where I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing or why I'm doing it. I so want my life to be a movie. It would be sad and angst-y, and probably poserish. This weekend I watched a lot of movies and Friends while recuperating from having my wisdom teeth cut out. One of the episodes I watched was the one or two episode arc where Chandler quits his job. "Why am I the only one that doesn't get to do what he loves?" he laments. Well, I would share in his lament, only I actually don't know what I would LOVE to do. There are things I would like to do, but my only real, REAL thing that I would LOVE to do is move to Jollywood and become famous as an actor or filmmaker. Well, or maybe a comic book writer, but there doesn't seem to be much money in that. I'm not sure.

I just wish I could go back about 13 years and slap myself and tell myself to figure crap out earlier. "Hey, younger, slimmer Pat...do something with your life. Be a doctor or a lawyer or an actor or something. Stop hoping that you'll figure it out later. Go on and do it. DO IT. NOW." Oh I wish. I wish I had done something. The Navy was dying to get me right out of high school. I should have gone. I love my friends and my church, but that's it. I would give up everything else. There are lots of regrets in this area, and I need to sort them, forgive myself for them, and get over them. And start making something of myself. If anybody has any ideas, let me know.

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Burn That Broken Bed
Iron and Wine/Calexico

How do you bust the clouds
Press on your back been hanging in the air
I wanna scope you out
I wanna touch your mouth when you're up there

When are you coming back
Bird on a branch will come back home to sing
When are you coming back
Bringing it back and singing what you bring

How do you bust the clouds
Head on the ground and feeling what you've seen
I wanna scope you out
I wanna be your eyes and show you me

When are you coming back
When are you gonna burn that broken bed
When are you coming back
I wanna see you drifting overhead

THE ONE WHERE PAT IS ON OXYCODONE. YUM.

i hed my wisdum teef cut out yestirdaye. i feel dummer.

It's been a crazy week. Tuesday and Wednesday, I had jury duty. Boy that's dumb. I know it's my civic duty and all, but man that's annoying. Sit in a huge courtroom while they call the roll of over 100 people, and then when they get to you, you try to say "here," but your voice cracks and everybody looks at you. I was supposed to go back yesterday, but I had surgery, so they excused me.

Man I was nervous as crap, too. I don't know why. The only thing I remember is them putting an IV in, and then later I was laying on my couch. Good times. I was supposed to have two pulled and two cut out, but they ended up cutting out all four. And apparently I was flirting with the nurse who thought I looked like her college boyfriend. Ah, well.

Also, this past wednesday I taught the first of a six-week guitar class at a local church. That's gonna be cool I guess. I got paid about 500 monies, so I hope I don't disappoint anybody.

Oh well, I'm gonna go lay back on the couch and eat icecream and watch a movie. I have a tough life, I'm sure.

THE ONE WHERE NATALIEDEE AND THE TOOTHPASTE GUY TALK ABOUT SUFJAN STEVENS. AND ANGELS.

THE ONE WHERE PAT HAS A CASE OF THE MONDAYS. ON THURSDAY.