EVEN MORE GREAT REASONS

So, if you weren't already glad that you haven't kissed me recently, here's an even better reason: I've got mono! Yes, the kissing disease. Of course, you can get it in other ways, and I probably got it in one of those, but whatever. I'm surprised I can have such a good sense of humor about this right now, because when they told me they wanted blood tests in the doctor's office yesterday, I cried. (But, to be fair, my tonsils were so freaking swollen that I couldn't talk, so it had been "a little bit of a day" before all of that.) Of course, if you have kissed me recently, YOU'RE GOING TO GET YOURS! Kidding. I swear. Come on, they'll give you the medicine and you'll be fine.

The only thing I really have to worry about right now is rupturing my spleen. Hand-to-hand combat, karate, and tackle football (you know, all activities in which I engage constantly) will have to be put aside for the next month. So, that's not so bad. Also, my Pittsburgh friends don't have to worry because I've only been contagious for the last week, and I haven't even been around, so you're all safe . . . for now.

YOU'RE GONNA MAKE IT AFTER ALL!

So, for your information: the Bucknell Seminar for Younger Poets is a month-long poetry seminar. If you get in, it's free. College students apply from all over the country, and they select only TEN of those students to attend.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am one of the ten!

WHOA!!!

DEAR THE REAL WORLD,
First of all, thanks for running a marathon of your Philadelphia season while I'm more or less incapacitated with wisdom tooth pains. It's been very useful because all I want to do is sit in front of the tv anyway. I've always found the Real World compelling, but you really aren't helping me out very much with that. How the hell do you choose your cast members these days? It seems like they all have the same kind of highlights, physiques, and psych degrees from state universities, as well as an obsession with shitty cocktails and boardshorts. Is that compelling? NAH, MTV, nah. Sure, they get embroiled in drama but it's all the same kind of drama I could catch by hanging out at sorrority row. If you want real drama, I'm your girl.

How long has it been since you've had a chubby girl on your show? Um, never, last I checked. That would set it off right there. It seems like you avoid intellectuals like the plague, but guess what? I can be downright bitchy and uncompromising about politics, particularly of the gender variety. Just imagine it: I show up on the first day with my huge sunglasses and hand-rolled cigarettes, and the other roommates just BUG OUT! And then I get into arguments with the one "alternagirl" you've cast (the one with a studded belt and some extra piercings!) about the meaning of subculture. But it turns out that everybody loves me because I'm so funny, and by the end we cry because we're all best friends. (Well, that happens every time regardless . . . .)

So, you're wondering what I would get out of all of this. Well, not much, to be honest. I would lose every last ounce of cred I've worked so hard to accumulate during my college years, and I would totally be a sell out, but maybe somebody would buy my book! And then my career of complete world domination would ensue. So, like, think it over.

Refusing to lose 40 pounds or get a dye job,
Sarah

HEY! THAT MAN STOLE MY TEETH!

It turns out that getting your wisdom teeth out is a lot like everybody says it will be: it's no fun, but it's not terrible, and you don't remember a whole lot. They gave me laughing gas, and the whole thing only lasted about fifteen minutes. When I woke up again, I was sitting at our formica kitchen table and my mom was removing a huge handful of bloody gauze from my mouth so i could take a vicodin. Actually, I got one and a half vicodin, which helped conk me out. I haven't had any really weird dreams, but I have constantly felt like I was talking out loud when I didn't mean to.

I've never tried painkillers before (my drug habits are pretty narrow), but I have to say that the effect isn't so much what I had imagined. (Well, I guess I should also keep in mind that I am in a LEGITIMATE AMOUNT OF PAIN, so it's very different from recreational use.) Even so, I don't feel particularly soothed or sedated.

They let me take my teeth home. Those fuckers are HUGE! They look like cartoon teeth that lecture you about proper brushing and walk around on their root stems. I'm thinking about making myself a necklace, because that would really help push me into weird/gross crunchy poet territory. And then I'll get a poncho and talk about auras, and you're gonna love it, I swear!.

You should call me while I'm at home. I have a slight lisp, which I have been told is quite comical.