Monday, October 20, 2008

jaw muscles

This past weekend a birthday extravaganza was held in my honor. First stop: Zaftig's, which means plump woman in yiddish. I've come to understand that Zaftig's is the Carnegie Deli of Boston. Hour wait and completely worth it. I ordered a $20 sandwich, the New Yorker, 1/2 pound corned beef, 1/2 pound pastrami, hot, with swiss and russian dressing.... we're talking 5 inches of sandwich delight.   
When the plate was first set in front of me  I turned it this way and that planning my angle of attack. Any way I turned it, it was huge, so with cameras blazing I unhinged my jaw and took a five inch bite. Fabulous. 
Fast forward through a day spent at the Arnold Arboratum and an evening spent, eating drinking, and singing to the morning after. 
I had been awake throughout the night, never quite making it into deep, restful sleep. Just as the first grey rays of morning light happened through the window, the what that was keeping me awake occurred to me; My jaw hurt. A lot. I lay there clutching my jaw and wondering if I had blacked out at some point in the evening and missed my bout with a heavy weight fighter. Ibuprofen, a gallon of ice tea, and 1 individual pizza later and my jaw still ached and my friends had assured me that I hadn't taken to calling Mr. Goldengloves a sissy. Then it occurred to me. In my line of work I am constantly councelling children on the consequences of their actions and how all it take is one minute where you are showing off or trying to fit in to do something STUPId. What I had done, was eat a five inch sandwich. The consequences were these: bruised jaw muscles and lasting proof of my stupidity on ALL of my friend's cameras. The ache in my jaw would be my reminder that showing off comes with a price. Amen.  

Toasty Again

This past weekend I was in "the weeds" and this old man kept bugging me for warm bread. I was annoyed and in a hurry, so I stuffed the bread basket into the microwave and set it for 20 seconds and began to make a salad. Then a funny sight caught my eye, orange shadows were dancing on the floor. I yanked open the stupid microwave and the basket had two big melted holes in it and the napkin was engulfed in flames. All I could think was, "I don't have time for this crap!" I  impatiently blew out the flame, dumped the bread into an unmarred basket, and stormed into the diningroom thinking, "damn q-tip, I'll give him WARM bread."