It's a beautiful day here in the big moldy. I spent it at home-- unable to work because I can't wear my hearing aid for extended amounts of time due to a chronic and raging ear infection. Well, I had an ASL lesson, but that was just down the road at the coffee shop. We sat outside during the lesson and then I went home and did not want to go inside. I got out the little end table, my iPhone, braille display, iPod and huge amplified headphones. I set everything up on my porch and Laveau and I set to having an afternoon out of doors.
I cranked up my iPod as high as it would go, and listened to my favorite Indigo Girls album. I read email, and Twitter, and blog posts, and played hang man all while humming quietly along with the music.
One of the biggest truths about deafness is that quiet becomes subjective. I learned this noble truth when Mr. Pawpower texted me to say that he could hear me singing, from inside, over the air conditioning and the hammering of the neighbors; he could hear me. I could not hear myself singing, and what I thought was a bit of quiet humming had become a neighborhood serenade. Oh well, at least it was good music, and Mr. Pawpower said that I hit all the notes and that I sounded better than the other people on our block who sing loudly. The problem is, most of said neighborhood singers participate in this hobby when they are intoxicated. So to say that my singing is better than that of an inebriate is a rather back-handed complement if ever there was one.
Now that I've succeeded in humiliating myself, I have come inside, only to realize that I have sun burned the holy hell out of my face. Being a red head really sucks sometimes.
I put Noxzema on my face only to have Mill'E-Max decide that Noxzema is the new flavor Du Jour. Now I have to hide my face like a fugitive to avoid being turned into the canine version of an otter pop.
I just can't win!