Carpe Dentum I

In March, I had the unfortunate experience of learning from my dentist that I had a cavity. Never, since my baby teeth were unceremoniously yanked from my skull, have I had a cavity. So of course, I took this news as some sort of personal affront to my moral (and dental) sensibilities. Alas, it was fact, and I went for a filling. Now, the tooth did not bother me at all.... until after said filling was completed. For a while, every time I attempted mastication on the right side of my mouth, a shooting pain went through my jaw. Some kind of amalgam between nails scraping a chalkboard, and gnawing on ice. But I digress. So the dentist informs me that the "nerve is irritated." No shit. However, it was NOT irritated before his work on it, but I decided it best not to remind him of this fact. He told me to wait it out, and I did. My primary incentive was the fact that if it did not get better, he would have to re-do the filling; a fate worse than death as far as I am concerned. However, after 3 months I had to throw in the towel and go back.

Carpe Dentum II (Comfortably Numb)

After the novocaine had had some time to take effect, Dr. Kevorkian began drilling for oil. I am not sure if it was pitiful shriek that gurgled up from my throat, or my eyeballs popping clear out of my cranium and imbedding themselves in the ceiling, but he managed to surmise that there was not quite enough anesthetic in my mouth. So out comes the comically huge needle, into the back of my mouth for another dose of sensory depriving juice. Verily I tell you, I was numb from just above my right ear, diagonally across my face and just under my eyeball to the dead centerline of my jaw. And I remained that way for hours to come. I am quite sure I was drooling, so I decided it best not to make any public appearances for the rest of the day. This fantastic morning was almost a week ago, and it has since become clear to me that in my 3 months of becoming a Lefty Masticator, I had developed an unconscious fear of chewing on the right side of my mouth. Now I am not even sure if the whole filling repetition song and dance worked!!! I hope for Kevorkian's sake it did.

Home Improvement?

I have, once again, been thwarted by the deck. I am sure when my parents built this monstrosity several years ago, neither one of them actually considered the act of staining and sealing it. As the contraption is getting on in years, it is necessary to put some type of stain on it. Normally, I like the color of bare wood... but in this case, it would be "bare, yucky, dirty" wood, and that is not quite as visually appealing. It has been an ongoing project to stain this deck. Today, I was hoping to finish the first coat. now, One set of stairs and the actual surface area of the deck already have Coat 1; its just the little railing spindles and the wheelchair ramp that need a going-over. I finished a can of stain, and went on to the next one, only to discover my father had purchased a slightly different variety; same brand, same color. But it takes forever to dry... and seems to have some sort of semi-gloss quality that annoys me. The ramp is difficult to complete, as I must go down one side, let it dry, then go down the other side in order to paint along the boards, and not across them. I was not able to paint the opposite side, as the first side had not yet dried, and tried to claim my feet if I walked over it, so I finally gave up... beaten and irritated. But, the piece de resistance??? About 15 minutes after I went inside, it started to rain.

Heart to Heart

So tonight I went on a date. And I went with a man I genuinely adore. At any rate... he had to leave early, as he had a meeting early in the morning. After dinner, when dropping me off, it was abundantly clear to me that he did not wish to come in. So what did I do? I harassed my father for an hour or so, just so that I could vent. Said man (the date, not my father) is fun to be with, and genuinely intelligent. I truly enjoy spending time with him. Unfortunately, I am still wondering whether he enjoys spending time with me. At any rate, after I got home, my father was duly surprised that I was home so early (as was I) and I told him I needed to vent. So my father and I spent a nice evening, whilst he listened to my somewhat lengthy diatribe about the ills of men. Normally, a woman would spend this time venting to her mother, but unfortunately, I do not have that luxury. I apologized to my father, but he seemed to welcome the conversation (regardless of how ridiculous). I can honestly say that I am happy to have the parents I have.