Tuesday, January 30, 2007
It is day three of my baffling fat lip saga.
Yes, my lip is still a little swollen and I don’t know why. As previously mentioned, I woke up Sunday morning with a fat lip. The kind of lip you get when the life of your mouth is interrupted by a couple of rowdy and swingin’ knuckles.
After discussing the inexplicable fatness of my lip with friends, we came up with a couple of possible scenarios. I could have bitten my lip in my sleep. I could have had an allergic reaction to something. I may have hit myself during sleep, or it could have been a bug bite.
The last one seems plausible and a little scary. From what I’ve read in an email someone once sent me about things you do in your life without realizing it, the average person swallows three insects/spiders while sleeping.
I started to believe that perhaps a spider had bitten me on my lip as I slumbered Saturday night. Then I became convinced that it could have been a Brown Recluse spider. I’ve been carrying around a slight fear that the bite will become a necrotizing ulcer that will eat away a good chunk of my soft and luscious lip.
I’ve seen pictures where folks have lost a good deal of tissue from those bites. Sometimes even deep craters are left once the tissue dies and falls off a person.
I eventually faced my fear and looked up the symptoms on the Internet. Luckily, I wasn’t bitten by a Fiddleback Spider. And now I’m convinced that I hit myself in my sleep.
Under further inspection, I noticed two small swollen places in my upper lip. The two places match up perfectly with my upper canine and incisor teeth. And when smoking one of my contraband items from Cancun, Mexico last night, I noticed that the tobacco was making my upper lip sting like hell. Ah-ha! Broken skin!
Mystery solved and now I can stop bothering the good folks at the CW Network with trying to get Veronica Mars’ phone number.
Last night I managed to actually sit down and transfer today’s musical choice onto CD. Yes! I finally have Ratt’s EP recorded onto CD and now I can easily be transported to a time where I was the “weird” kid at Northwest Guilford High School. So weird that a teacher was so concerned about my “disturbed” imagination, she sent me to the guidance counselors for evaluation and an IQ test. So weird that I was still wearing KISS t-shirts when everyone else had moved on and found them passé. So weird in fact that when my girlfriend’s parents found out about our clandestine relationship, they pulled her out of school.
And my second high school girlfriend’s parents didn’t like me either… Once they tracked her down at my house, the father threatened me, and they forbade her to see me ever again. But we kept it on the down-lo and managed to keep seeing each other through her first year in college.
Yeah… Those were the days. As I’ve said before, I’m “underground dangerous”.