the saga of the chicken fibre

So it all started when Sonny and I went to school today. We were studying in the PGSA lounge, which is a space that is reseved for postgraduate students. It turned out that today was the day of the semester-ly "doctoral induction day". This is a day-long retreat for new PhD students in which they learn how to be good PhD students - mostly things like how to use the library, have a relationship with your supervisor, and make sure your research is good. But the part that I as a postgraduate student am most interested in is the fact that they get a free lunch. Which is served in the PGSA lounge. FREE FOOD.

So I wait patiently for all the doctoral candidates to finish their noshing and leave, and then I approach the PGSA representative and enquire about perhaps grabbing a bite from the leftovers. He says yes and so I fall to it.

5 sandwiches, 2 muffins, most of the remaining fruit, and lots of brownies and caramel slices later, I decide I cannot eat or carry anymore, so I grab a cup of coffee and sit down.

And thats when I feel it.

A piece of chicken from one of the sandwiches (probably the chicken brie and cranberry) is stuck between my teeth. I try several methods of removal to no avail. Fine self, I say, just ignore it.

So I do.

For like three minutes. Fast forward a few hours, and I am on the ferry, knitting, still being irked by this stupid piece of chicken in my teeth. I am in the midst of some impressive glossol/lingual gymnastics in a desperate attempt to remove it, when I look up.

There is a very nice lady watching me knit, and when I look up, she smiles at me for a moment, and then suddenly a look of concern flashes across her face and she breaks eye contact. In a second I realize that my face is screwed up in the most ridiculous expression as a result of my frantic bid at chicken removal.

I think I looked retarded.

For the rest of the trip she refused to make eye contact and Sonny laughs at me. I curse the chicken. When I get home I retire to the bathroom with two mirrors, a flashlight and some tweezers. After some bloodshed, I finally vanquish the chicken piece and return my mouth to its once happy state. I have included a photo below of the piece, in all its beaten embarrassment. You are welcome.

p.s. then I chased Sonny around with it, and wiped it onto his sweatshirt.

p.p.s. Sonny says I don't post on here enough. I say be careful what you wish for