Who's sorry now?

For those readers who have been closely following my teeth related ailments I have some news. I went to the dentists today to see whether they could prescribe me something for the pain or the swelling which have become something of an inconvenience over the past week.

I had been getting the feeling that some people around these parts were treating my complaints with some disdain and believed that the grimacing, writhing and moaning I was engaging in were symptomatic of a lack of attention, something on a par with 'man-flu'. Imagine my delight therefore to be told that I had an acute life threatening condition which required immediate oral surgery. Oh, yes. Life threatening. Proper.

So I was a little disappointed when I returned home with tales of bravery and survival to notice that my wife was darting glances at her laptop screen rather than staring at me agog, wiping away a tear perhaps or  begging forgiveness for her hitherto offhand approach to my life threatening illness.

Now of course I've eaten my first meal since breakfast. I've prodded small parcels of pasta into my inflamed, bloody and pus ridden mouth while my wife is out dining at the Harvard Social Club with fellow Antipodeans. Of course, she has her own life to live. I don't expect her to stay holed up with me, sharing my agony. I have a phone and Dr Ok said that if I make it through tonight without having to call 911 then things will start to improve in the morning.

Peta has made it clear that she needs me to awaken her at 8.00am with the usual cup of tea, bowl of porridge and cheery (if slightly bloodied) smile  so all will be back to normal which will come as a great relief to the staff. Peta even had to go into the kitchen to make me a cup of tea yesterday. I say a cup but it was actually half a cup. She's not taken advantage of the water boiling features of this particular kettle before so didn't know how much water was required.

Oktoberfest

I managed to drag my pus infested mouth down to the Harvard Square Oktoberfest today and gained some small measure of comfort from the marching bands who were really jolly, jolly good fun.

Hiatus

I'm never sure whether the word hiatus refers to a break from something or a bit of a fuss. In the same way hoi polloi could be posh people or the lower classes.

Anyway, regular readers will note that I've taken a bit of a hiatus from writing to the hoi polloi about our exciting adventures in Boston  Cambridge. I did go to the library last week and write about the two reasons for this which was (1) I have toothache which has now become infected and (2) A dear friend said my writing was dull and homourless but having reviewed this writing I have decided to add a third reason (3) I'm not very interesting.

Before you flood my inbox with replies to the contrary and jam my phone with reassuring messages of support I should clarify my position which is that writing about my toothache isn't very interesting and I should publish Peter's words without embellishment as a lesson in the economic use of language to great effect.

Nice Young Man

Speaking of boxing I went again tonight and a nice young man made me feel so much better about myself by fainting towards the end of our exercises.

There was me thinking that I was the only lightheaded, disorientated person in the room and down he went cheering me up immensely.

To be fair to him he was new to the class so he was probably trying as hard as I was on my first time before I realised the futility of it all. Coach tells us to start doing sit-ups then leaves the room. I don't know where he goes but he's gone for a good long while and we're supposed to keeping bobbing up and down in a metronomic fashion until he returns...at which point he demands that we do different varieties of sit-ups with exciting names. Then we head for the press-ups and do two lots of 90 (which those of you not delirious with fatigue and writhing in agony will realise is more than 100 in total). I think it was around this point where the young lad passed out which gave me that natural high that everyone goes on about.

Excuse me, are you a hooker?

After boxing last week I was walking up Winthrop Street when I felt compelled to ask this question of a gaunt, pale skinned and dark eyed woman walking towards me. What's that about? I didn't ask of course but what sort of person even thinks that sort of question let alone asks them? A temporary blip you may say but at the next junction I was walking past an opticians and saw through the window a young woman trying on a pair of glasses with someone who looked like her Mum. My instinct was to tap on the window, point at her and laugh. Not the actions of a nice person.

One might think that I'm coursing with testosterone after a few hours of boxing but I'm actually spent afterwards and need a few moments to focus on which way to go and how to walk. Maybe that's the problem, my usual temperance is worn ragged by the press-ups, sit-ups and all the rest of it.

Maybe it's a creeping grumpiness which will see me swearing at imaginary companions and punching underground posters in years to come.

Sox Edge Yankees In The 10th

Luckily we had a very enthusiastic baseball fan to help explain everything. It was Chrissie and Ryan's first visit to Fenway Park, they go for the Minnessota Twins I think, and it was actually a great deal more entertaining than you might think. Certainly more fun than Aussie Rules.

The Red Sox and the Yankees are possibly the fiercest rivals in baseball but whereas the Yankees are in the ascendancy the Sox are in the doldrums, they're not even making the play offs this year so last night was their penultimate game for the season.

There was beer, soft pretzels, hot dogs, singing, a mexican wave, drunk people and A Rod batting for the Yankees. Peta and I acually left at the start of the 8th Innings as it was quite chilly and already gone midnight. I think the game actually finished at half past one and the Sox edged it which would have been nice to see...but not that nice.

Next stop the Celtics!

Guess what?

Looking quite the elegant man about town I am about to enjoy my first pint of  Miller High Life which was regrettably not my first drink of the evening.

We went to see Catfish which was an excellent film but one which I will not provide any links to because knowing anything about it might rather spoil it. I believe it has been deliberately misleadingly marketed as some sort of  Blair Witch thriller which it clearly isn't (although not bereft of thrills).

My first High Life swiftly dovetailed into my second by which time Peta, Elspeth and myself were joined at the bar by two young people who have come to Boston to stay with Elspeth and see the Red Sox play the Yankees.

Despite (speaking for myself) being rather loud and boorish we have managed to gain an invite to the game tonight which is part of a double header thanks to rain cancelling Friday's game. Last time I looked the Red Sox were 2-0 up (whatever that means) and although the Sox can't make the play offs (or something) I think they can stop the Yankees winning their league (or something).

The game starts at 9.05pm which seems quite ridiculous after a Friday evening which ended with me weaving towards home at 1.00am, quite unable to put one foot in front of the other soon after relieving myself in the gardens of some esteemed college or other.

The shame.