Saturday, December 31, 2005

Out of the mouths of babes

Over the river and over the woods, in a tiny white jet I go. . .

If I didn't travel, I'd probably never see my family. It is apparently an unwritten rule that I must be the one to stuff myself into an aircraft and live out of a suitcase for several days. Oh, I cannot say they never come. . . but the one who holds the record has been here twice in ten years. I try not to grumble, but Christ.

But my journeys are rewarded with both homemade cookies and strong showers. Not to mention thoughtful comments from the kidlets, who are too smart for words.

Take K, who is 4: When I grow up, I want to be a veterinarian. And a jockey. And a volunteer firefighter on weekends. But what I really want is to be a blonde.

Friday, December 23, 2005

The cards

Ho ho ho, or something equally festive. If you're waiting by the mailbox for our Christmas card, get back in the house and wrap something. The box has been on my desk for a month and I just haven't bothered.

It's not that I don't wish every last one of you lovely things, miracles, and remarkable moments. Really.

I'm simply focused on finding my next path. Or my next client. Or something radiant.

I know. Coal in my stocking. Humbug.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Flossing: history revealed

Not long ago, a bit of shredded meat got stuck under one of my crowns (the dental kind, not the princess kind, unfortunately), and after half a roll of Glide floss (the multiple orgasm of floss, really) I finally admitted defeat and called my dentist.

Seconds after ascending his throne and being tipped upside down, I was informed that the tooth next to the crown had a little cavity. I accepted his offer of a quick fill, and my life has never been the same.

Let's just sum it up: nerve damage. . . the charming sensation of lightning bolts alternating with rusty nails being shoved up inside the tooth, now nicknamed stubby the evil bastard. . . a lovely procedure to have it opened and drained. . . a root canal in two parts. . . a broken filling on the other side, the only side on which I could chew. . . and a month later, I'm still sporting stubby and food is still getting caught under that crown.

In the middle of all this, I changed dentists. The new guy is great, but I'm real tired of hanging out in his office. We filled the broken beast on the other side, and then the tooth next to it decided to make itself known.

Lo, another crown, more torture, and gums that now go ballistic when I eat meat. I haul out the Glide flosspicks and dig like a pirate on a beach. It's kinda scary. Bits are turning up days later--even after I've flossed three days in a row. Where does the food hide? How does the broccoli stay bright green?