I received two cards in the mail yesterday (along with birthday presents from Auntie Judy!). One card was from my mom and had a cut out picture of a broccoli birthday cake (yes, stems of broccoli with candles on top of some kind of white sauce) and had back health stretching exercises inside.
The second card was, I assumed, also a birthday card, but no! I couldn't have been more wronger. It was a handwritten note in a card from my new BFF, the dentist's office, wherein they thanked me for my patronage and literally congratulated me on my excellent teeth and good checkup.
I'll assume by all that, they really meant, "Happy birthday!"
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Friday, September 20, 2013
dentist
So, I went to the dentist today. Yup, no longer have those coffee stains on my two bottom front teeth. Let's pretend, for now, that coffee was the only thing staining those off-white pearls. Um...
I have never had a date to the dentist until today. I have never had a date for many things until this year. Weddings, for example. Weddings were hard and dateless. Wedding dates are your sister, if you have one, or a mutual friend to carpool, if you're lucky. But I have had a wedding date for the past three-four weddings, courtesy of the man-cub. Yes, that's what someone at the first wedding we went to together called him. Seriously, it became a thing. We laugh about it now. It's okay. And today, my first dentist date! Interested? Of course you are! Read on!
We found the place (it is a new dentist for me) and he sat and read patiently while they x-rayed every portion of my mouth and even took photographs. I assume it's because I'm so good looking. But it's probably because they really like my teeth. No, it's probably protocol, but they really, really like my teeth. They said, "We don't see teeth this good in this area. I'm jealous. I wish I had your teeth." The dentist said it, the hygienist said it, everyone. Apparently I come from good stock in the bone department, and, you know, we rinsed with fluoride in grade school. I credit my no-cavity smile with having had orthodontic work for years at a point when most kids eat sugar and chew gum and wreck their faces. I brushed my teeth after everything I ate or drank (once famously refusing a snack in sixth grade because I wouldn't have time to brush my teeth before we took the hour long bus ride back home), and I stayed away from the bad food list. My mom was a nurse, so no soda for us (hardly), just four to six glasses of milk a day. You think I kid, but I do not. And I still hate eating sticky food that I avoided back then. It's just so hard to clean, and I worry that my teeth will get ripped out. Or just my little protective dental caps on my molars for avoiding cavities, or whatever they're really called. On the downside, I was severely reprimanded by the hygienist for not flossing, and I told her in my last ditch effort that I had bought those single-use dental picks, and she was slightly pacified. Still, concerned.
I got done with the cleaning after such bloody gums you wouldn't want to be me except unless you were in a horror flick and it was byob (bring your own blood). Boyfriend had finished reading the TIME Abraham Lincoln special (boring, he knew it all, the smartie) and much of his cheesy detective novel, so he was ready to hit the pavement and find some food with me. Brunch. So we went to IHOP after some deliberation, and were well rewarded. Twins! My favorites! Working together! And cute! So, that basically made our collective day. Also, boyfriend and I have an ongoing joke about sloth fingers, and pretended to steal the leftover tip money at our table, very slowly. Rob laughed inordinately. So did our cute server. She's the best. Really. So much sweetness. We also joked about having an in-depth conversation about fluoride, which was punctuated intentionally by holding hands and leaning in across the table, and sometimes giving worried looks. It was fun.
We tipped, paid the other cutest twin ever, and left full of breakfast. Boyfriend dropped me off, 'cuz duh, who's going to take two cars to something so far away? So he's picking me up in an hour and I'm already stoked to hang out with him because he's my favorite. Also because he shaved his neck beard. And while that may not win points, it certainly stops taking them away. It's like he has a scarf, made of fur, that goes all the way around his neck.
You will, perhaps, recall the controversy surrounding the "restoration" of the painting Ecco Homo, or Cecelia Jimenez's version of it, Beast Jesus, and perhaps, the SNL skit based on her fame: "He had beautiful hair that became a scarf. It was a scarf made of hair that wrapped around his little, brown, expressionless face. And then he look at me with his dead black eyes...I say Jesus, why you look like a shark?"
And with that, I leave you to do something REALLY important. No, really. It's important.
I have never had a date to the dentist until today. I have never had a date for many things until this year. Weddings, for example. Weddings were hard and dateless. Wedding dates are your sister, if you have one, or a mutual friend to carpool, if you're lucky. But I have had a wedding date for the past three-four weddings, courtesy of the man-cub. Yes, that's what someone at the first wedding we went to together called him. Seriously, it became a thing. We laugh about it now. It's okay. And today, my first dentist date! Interested? Of course you are! Read on!
We found the place (it is a new dentist for me) and he sat and read patiently while they x-rayed every portion of my mouth and even took photographs. I assume it's because I'm so good looking. But it's probably because they really like my teeth. No, it's probably protocol, but they really, really like my teeth. They said, "We don't see teeth this good in this area. I'm jealous. I wish I had your teeth." The dentist said it, the hygienist said it, everyone. Apparently I come from good stock in the bone department, and, you know, we rinsed with fluoride in grade school. I credit my no-cavity smile with having had orthodontic work for years at a point when most kids eat sugar and chew gum and wreck their faces. I brushed my teeth after everything I ate or drank (once famously refusing a snack in sixth grade because I wouldn't have time to brush my teeth before we took the hour long bus ride back home), and I stayed away from the bad food list. My mom was a nurse, so no soda for us (hardly), just four to six glasses of milk a day. You think I kid, but I do not. And I still hate eating sticky food that I avoided back then. It's just so hard to clean, and I worry that my teeth will get ripped out. Or just my little protective dental caps on my molars for avoiding cavities, or whatever they're really called. On the downside, I was severely reprimanded by the hygienist for not flossing, and I told her in my last ditch effort that I had bought those single-use dental picks, and she was slightly pacified. Still, concerned.
I got done with the cleaning after such bloody gums you wouldn't want to be me except unless you were in a horror flick and it was byob (bring your own blood). Boyfriend had finished reading the TIME Abraham Lincoln special (boring, he knew it all, the smartie) and much of his cheesy detective novel, so he was ready to hit the pavement and find some food with me. Brunch. So we went to IHOP after some deliberation, and were well rewarded. Twins! My favorites! Working together! And cute! So, that basically made our collective day. Also, boyfriend and I have an ongoing joke about sloth fingers, and pretended to steal the leftover tip money at our table, very slowly. Rob laughed inordinately. So did our cute server. She's the best. Really. So much sweetness. We also joked about having an in-depth conversation about fluoride, which was punctuated intentionally by holding hands and leaning in across the table, and sometimes giving worried looks. It was fun.
We tipped, paid the other cutest twin ever, and left full of breakfast. Boyfriend dropped me off, 'cuz duh, who's going to take two cars to something so far away? So he's picking me up in an hour and I'm already stoked to hang out with him because he's my favorite. Also because he shaved his neck beard. And while that may not win points, it certainly stops taking them away. It's like he has a scarf, made of fur, that goes all the way around his neck.
You will, perhaps, recall the controversy surrounding the "restoration" of the painting Ecco Homo, or Cecelia Jimenez's version of it, Beast Jesus, and perhaps, the SNL skit based on her fame: "He had beautiful hair that became a scarf. It was a scarf made of hair that wrapped around his little, brown, expressionless face. And then he look at me with his dead black eyes...I say Jesus, why you look like a shark?"
And with that, I leave you to do something REALLY important. No, really. It's important.
Monday, September 16, 2013
that kind of girl.
I want to be the kind of girl that...
Meets the Pope and talks with him about topics of current interest.
Dances with Stephen Colbert on his show.
Travels to Spain.
Opens a counseling practice.
Obtains a Spiritual Direction certification.
Sings in a choir.
Writes songs and collaborates with other artists.
Writes stories and collaborates with other artists.
I would also like to be the kind of girl that
Sings karaoke.
Dances in the kitchen with her man-friend.
Sleeps out of doors.
Takes the train to Portland.
Plants garlic in the fall.
Is honest with her friends and says uncomfortable and potentially embarrassing things.
Meets the Pope and talks with him about topics of current interest.
Dances with Stephen Colbert on his show.
Travels to Spain.
Opens a counseling practice.
Obtains a Spiritual Direction certification.
Sings in a choir.
Writes songs and collaborates with other artists.
Writes stories and collaborates with other artists.
I would also like to be the kind of girl that
Sings karaoke.
Dances in the kitchen with her man-friend.
Sleeps out of doors.
Takes the train to Portland.
Plants garlic in the fall.
Is honest with her friends and says uncomfortable and potentially embarrassing things.
story time.
this story has a lot to do with dog bites and misunderstandings and forgiveness and late night phone calls and prayers and contented hand holding and public hiking trail burials and that long sunday morning sitting in the armchair in front of the open window and the cool breeze and my fuzzy blanket and being so, so comfortable and more breakfasts and bacon and holding and letting go and a strange sense of peace and a logical sense of peace after intermittent anxiety and a thankfulness and a little bit of newness creeping into life.
it has a little to do with flowers and zucchini and ill-fated blueberry plants and long stretches of sidewalk and misbehaving vehicles and lost-and-found wallets and meteor showers and weekly reading parties of fantasy fiction and questionable taste in movies and video game animosity and seasonal blackberries and farm parties and friends' weddings and taking out the garbage and mushy cookies and approximately three dead animals.
it may well have to do with the state ferry system and our friends' back yard and fire pit and two sets of plane tickets and snow. on. christmas.
oh boy. i might just be in for it.
it has a little to do with flowers and zucchini and ill-fated blueberry plants and long stretches of sidewalk and misbehaving vehicles and lost-and-found wallets and meteor showers and weekly reading parties of fantasy fiction and questionable taste in movies and video game animosity and seasonal blackberries and farm parties and friends' weddings and taking out the garbage and mushy cookies and approximately three dead animals.
it may well have to do with the state ferry system and our friends' back yard and fire pit and two sets of plane tickets and snow. on. christmas.
oh boy. i might just be in for it.
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