[um-title.gif]
Telepathic Messages
I'm A Rabid Fanboy
Recently Consumed
Protect yourself from Mind Control!


You'll Dance to Anything Fear Not Drowning
Up Your Earhole
Current Playlist

Casey/Male/31-35. Lives in United States/California/San Francisco/The Mission, speaks English and  . Spends 80% of daytime online. Uses a Faster (1M+) connection.
This is my blogchalk:
United States, California, San Francisco, The Mission, English, Spanish, Casey, Male, 31-35.

GeoURL
Who Links Here

Saturday, February 19, 2005

Nothing Left To Do But...

When in doubt, the answer is chicken nuggets.

That's been my secret for all the early morning dentist appointments. If I have a fairly protein-heavy breakfast (and what are my TVP faux-chicken nuggets but little protein bombs?) I'm better able to handle the horrors of the needles. That's what makes it possible for me to brave the Novocain shots in the morning without passing out. Works for blood draws too. I wish it worked at the eye doctor, where I had to put my head between my legs after they used an anesthetic eyedrop. I'm passing out at eyedrops. Sheesh, I hope I never need any serious medical treatment or else Morningstar Farms is going to make some serious money off of me.

So I went back to the dentist for a cleaning on Thursday. And that was all. No extractions, no root canals, no crowns. The dentist, desperate to find some way to abuse my mouth, cut my gums and scraped my teeth painfully with a primitive drill/plant mister combination ("Time for your shower!" she said brightly. I thought she was kidding; then I asked to stop halfway through to mop off my face.) She threatened the bottom row of my teeth ("Someday those are going to need to be crowned, but we'll see how long we can put that off,") suggested that I start bleaching my teeth again, and then told me to have a good day; I was done.. It was cold and rainy out, but I walked to work with a big smile on my face.

I was done. After countless years of neglect (and pain), five extractions, six crowns and a few root canals, I'm at a stage now where I can say that I'm done for a while. My teeth are far from perfect; they're still oddly colored, with a couple large gaps. But maybe now my friend's children won't ask me why my teeth look rotten. Maybe now guys at the Eagle won't say, loud enough for me to hear, "He'd be cute, except for those teeth." Maybe now I can start to unlearn the impulse to keep my mouth closed. Maybe now I can start smiling more in public. Maybe now I can start smiling more in general.

"See you in six months" are the best five words I've heard in a while.

(Well, honestly, those are probably tied in a dead heat with "Your new computer has arrived." But that's a different post.)

03:15 PM PST (link)

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

The Toolbar Of The Devil.

I may not remember my own email address today from lack of sleep, and I may need to wear a brace on my wrist again, but let it be know that I emerged victorious from my recent mano-a-mano with Powerpoint. I did not let it defeat me. I did not stand for its mistreatment. And though it may have kept me at my desk until 8 or 9 at night—on Valentine's Day, no less—I emerge today a better man for it.

However...the projector that turned my orange slides yellow? You made the little baby Jesus cry. You're the one that's making me consider how else to use my skills.

But you know? It's all OK. Because there's a rainbow in every teardrop I'm crying.

01:50 PM PST (link)

Archives

Search entries:

Powered By Greymatter

Copyright 2000, Ultramundane.com