January 12, 2012
I accidentally didn’t leave the house yesterday. I was going to, but it was very snowy and the dinner I was supposed to go to got canceled. So I made soup. And other people who were less lazy then me, came over to play games. We played Dutch Blitz which I had actually never played before, but it is pretty much the same as Nertz, so it was really fun. And I dominated. Which made it funner. (I know funner isn’t a word. Leave me alone.)
You guys, I have to go to the dentist today and get cavities filled. Plural. Because apparently I have lots of cavities.
Did I ever tell you the story of my last dentist visit? It was horrible. I had to find a new dentist up here in Denver, and I found a good deal at a new office over by my place. I went in thinking it would be a normal dentist visit — they would polish my teeth, I would hope they didn’t mention how I floss about once every six months (right before I go to the dentist), and I would be in and out in about 45 minutes. I was wrong.
I got there about noon and they brought me in to do some x-rays. I had never been there before, so I figured they needed to check on the state of my teeth. No worries. However, they did not just put me in the chair and take a quick four x-rays. NO, they took like 16 x-rays. I am not kidding. And, the girl who was doing them was not very good at it, because she kept putting things in my mouth, attempting to take the picture, failing to get the right angle, and retaking the picture. All-in-all we probably did 30 x-rays.
Then we went to another room where, just for fun, Miss Radiation-Fanatic decided to do more x-rays. Then she took some literal pictures of my teeth and mouth — like with a camera. After about six hours, she finally stopped snapping away. I wondered if this was just a staged dentist office for mobsters who were going to kill me and use my dental records to somehow claim my fortunes after my death. But then I remembered that I don’t have any fortunes.
Finally, I thought. Time for the cleaning. Right? Wrong.
Next the dentist came in to tell me what all my x-rays meant. By this time, most people had left for dinner, but Dr. Dentist had apparently stuck around. He came in and looked at a couple of the 400,000 pictures they had taken of my teeth, gums, baby teeth residue, nose cavity, spleen, toenails and brain cells. “You have three cavities,” he said. “Sucks to be you.”
Umm, I had just been to the dentist six months previously and hadn’t had cavities in a long time. I thought it was suspicious that I suddenly had three cavities. But then I remembered that they’d taken pictures of every proton, neutron and electron of my teeth. I’m sure they had found something that would possibly turn into a cavity sometime within the next forty years. They had photographed the depths of my soul, for goodness sake.
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s get to the teeth cleaning.”
“Calm down, Speedy Gonzales!” screeched Dr. CavityHead. “Our payment specialist will come talk through your cavity finances now.”
I tried to get up to leave, but all of the x-ray radiation had weakened me. So I stayed in the chair while a woman literally came in to tell me that cavities cost money to fill and I would have to pay for them. By then I could see the stars twinkling outside of the window — the moon was full and bright that evening.
Miss X-RayElectromagneticus came back and poked around at a table behind my head. Then she drank some tea. Then she went and took a bath. Then she drove over to The Gap. Finally she came back with new skinny jeans and decided to polish my teeth.
“Umm, excuse me,” I yawned. It was past my bedtime. “Don’t you scrape at all the plaque before you do the cleaning?”
“Back it up, crazy lady!” she screamed. “I am not qualified for plaque scraping. What do I look like? A professional plaque scraper?” (She did, with the scrubs and all.) “I polish teeth. Dr. CavitiesAreMyFavorite will be the one to deal with your plaque, ma’am. He is a licensed professional, a dealer in all things plaque, a connoisseur of teeth slime.” Then she showed me his diploma on the wall. Dr. Dentist Bucktooth CavityFace, Ph.D. of Scraping Gunk Off of Your Teeth.
So, she proceeded to polish my teeth and floss them before the plaque removal. Is it just me or is that completely and totally backwards?
“OK, then,” I sighed. “Time for Dr. PlaqueExpert to come get this plaque out of here, right?”
Miss TeethPolishingIsMyMiddleName looked horrified. “It is late!” she cried. “What do you think we are, an all night dentistry of 24-hour dentists who like to stay up all night?” She handed me a Snuggie. “You can sleep in your chair. The dentist will be here in the morning.”
I snuggled down for the night.
I awoke to the birds chirping, and the sun rising golden in the east. Dr. PlaqueMandu sauntered in, apparently waiting for me to bow and clap before His Plaqueness. He sat down and checked my throat for cancer. I was clear. Then he got to scraping.
I finally left, with a sharp reminder from Mrs. PointlessFinancialWoman that cavities cost money and they would not be doing them for free.
So, I’m going back today to get two cavities filled. I’m bringing three changes of clothes, books to read, and food rations.
I may have dramatized the story a bit, but not much, you guys. I was in there for two entire hours for my teeth cleaning. And the financial lady did come talk to me. And they did polish my teeth before the plaque removal. It was so odd. Clair, is this the new trend in dentistry? I was so confused — I have never had a visit like that. So pray for me today. I’m scared. For so many reasons.
Well, I’m sorry this post happened to you. I’ve literally written 1,000 words about nothing. Have a good day not going to the dentist! I shall see you tomorrow if they haven’t overdosed me on novocaine and hatred. Bye!
September 19, 2011
It’s Monday. When you’re a student, Monday is pretty much like Saturday and Sunday, except no football. Except if you have cable, there is football on Monday. So Monday is … I don’t know. Let’s move on.
I’ve got lots to do this week. There are lessons to write and homework to do, and I’m heading down to Arkansas for Micah’s wedding! Please don’t tell her that my dress doesn’t fit. She’ll find out soon enough when I walk down the aisle with my zipper only halfway up.
Here are two stories from yesterday to keep you entertained. And by “entertained,” I mean “pretty grossed out” and “feeling pity for me over my pathetic TV addictions.”
Story #1: Yesterday I went to Ikea to pick up some frames for Micah’s table numbers. She is super popular and lots of people are coming to her fabulous wedding, so she needed some extra frames. So, I parked in the Ikea parking lot, just happy to be at my fave store. But my glee soon faded away … I got out of my car and noticed what I thought was a puddle of melted vanilla ice cream right by my foot. But wait, ice cream doesn’t have fur, does it? I looked a little closer. As far as I remember, ice cream also does not have a tail. Or eyes. Or tiny little rat toe nails. As I am pretty quick and clever, it only took me about ten minutes to figure out that THERE WAS A COMPLETELY FLATTENED WHITE RAT NEXT TO MY FOOT.
You guys. My top fears equal: 1. Bats. 2. Rats. 3. Mice. 4. Getting a B. My number two fear was next to my sandaled foot!! Commence vomiting. Actually, I didn’t vomit, but I whined about the possibility of vomiting to my friend Diana for the next hour. My lawyer is writing up my lawsuit to Ikea right now. Mental trauma, you guys.
Story #2: The Emmys were on last night. Who cares, right? Exactly. Except that I caught the last hour or so, and spent much of it all verklempt. Friday Night Lights is obvs one of my top two shows, and it was nominated for best writing, best drama, and best actor and actress. First of all, it never gets nominated. Kyle Chandler and Connie Britton were nominated the year before, and that was a first. It’s been pretty roundly ignored by “the academy.” So it was huge that they had four nominations for their last year. They would never win, though. No one knows FNL and it was up against Mad Men and Game of Thrones and other expensive shows. Everybody had been predicting that the fancy shows would win.
But, you guys, Jason Katims won for writing and my sweet, crabby Coach Taylor won for best actor! I loved it. They got the biggest cheers of the night, because some people realize how awesome they are. The FNL cast members who were there looked so shocked and excited. The cast members who weren’t there were on Twitter, and they were freaking out. Scott Porter (a.k.a. Jason Street) said he was literally crying because Kyle Chandler is the best man he’s ever met.
Kyle Chandler was so shocked to be winning, and he laughed just like Coach, and in my delusional head, they are the same person, and he and Dillon had just won state! And then Jason Katims ended his speech with “clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose” and suddenly my contacts were bothering me very much and making my eyes water. I know it’s sad to love a show that much, but I do. I don’t care if you think I’m crazy. Lock me up. With Tim Riggins.
Also, if you feel bad for me and my crazy, you should watch this clip. You’ll be hooked by the end of it. And you’ll turn just as crazy as I am.
K, I really do have a lot to get done, but I just wanted to say “hi.” BE CAREFUL next time you go to Ikea.