Instant Karma

Friday, September 30, 2005

Oral Bling

A couple of months ago I went to the dentist as per my usual oral hygiene routine (brush - 2x daily, floss - 1x daily, mouthwash - 1x daily, dentist - 2x yearly). With that regimented schedule, imagine my surprise when he told me I had three cavities and a cracked tooth and would need a crown! Ugh, I'm only 25. I feel like I shouldn't be getting crowns at this tender age.

So last month I went in for them to create a mold, drill my tooth down to a nub and stick me with a "temporary" crown - meaning a piece of some substance to cap over my tooth nub and irritate the crap out of me for four weeks while I waited for my permanent crown to be sculpted of gold and porcelain. Four weeks? We're not sculpting the Pieta, here - it's a tooth. So for a whole month I had an extrememly sensitive tooth. Ice cold beverages = ouch. Chewing gum = irritation. Crunchy cerial and carrots = cannot be chewed on the right side of my mouth.

So finally two days ago I went in to get my real crown. The dentist chatted with me as we waited for the anesthetic to take hold of my gums. "What are your plans for the weekend?", "Well, I'm going to watch the Clemson football game." "What time does it come on?", "Sadurday ah fee furdy.", "Okay, let's get started with this crown." He yanked off the temp crown, which actually felt heavenly given the irritation it had caused, and began prepping the real crown for cappage. He put it on my tooth and then threw his entire body weight behind it as he pushed it up into my gums, as if his goal was to push the tooth through my jaw and into my sinus cavities.

As much as I didn't not enjoy the whole experience of getting a crown, I must say that this new tooth is really quite lovely. It looks nicer than the rest of my teeth - although, you don't see it often, being as that it's in the back of my mouth. But I can chew my cereal on the right side of my mouth again and that's all that really matters.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

Things that Make Me Smile

Driving over the new bridge as the sun is rising, watching the light of the new day wash over the city.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005


Sometimes I wish that driving in real life was more like Mario Kart. Kinda extreme bumper cars, but no one gets hurt. When someone gets in your way, you just knock them off the road...but don't fret! The little cloud dude will just come and pick them back up again and they'll be on their way la-ti-da.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Green Is Good

I have no pets. Yes, it is very sad, I agree. I desperately want a puppy, but I have moral objections to keeping a dog in an apartment when I'm gone 12 hours a day. Not to mention our particular apartment managers make it ridiculously expensive to keep one and have all sorts of rules regulating them. No pets under 1 year of age, no pets over 40 lbs on the ground floor or 25 lbs on the second floor. I ask you - what do they do about children?! So, a hold has been placed on that idea until we get a house.

I used to have a fish named Blackhaus. It was a beta and I pretended that the hyperactive wiggling it did when I came near the bowl with fish food was because it loved me, not the food, for I was, after all, the one who cleaned out the bowl and gave it fresh water every week. Well, at least as often as when it got a thin layer of scum on top. But last year, after nearly 3 years of glorious, fishy life, Blackhaus took the great water ride to the sky. RIP.

So, for now, I have to content myself with potted plants. And I have to admit, I do not have a green thumb - or any other good plant-happy color of thumb for that matter, as I tend to kill most plants with which I come in contact. You can't kill bamboo? It's soooo easy to care for, you say? All you have to do is water it? Dead.

But as of a few weeks ago, I am trying my best to make a valiant effort in caring for my potted pets. Some of them were looking rather peaked, so I got them some fresh, moisture-regulating, miracle grow soil (miracle is the right word...I'll need one!); some new, bigger clay pots so they can stretch their legs; and I even pulled them back from the edge of the porch in case the winds from Ophelia got to whipping around in the courtyard too much. See, I'm a good plant mommy! They're looking pretty good as of now. I just need to remember to water them. Or not water them, so I don't over-water them. I've been guilty of both.

Kermit on Acid

I don't think it's so much the caffiene in Diet Mountain Dew that gives you energy. I believe that it's merely the fact that you're drinking something the very color of RADIOACTIVITY! That's bound to put some pep in your step. Or make you sick. One of the two.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Must be the New Year's Parties

In two weeks we will be driving to Atlanta because my grandmother is throwing my grandfather a surprise 80th birthday party. While the mere mention of this venture causes R to roll his eyes and groan, it will actually be a very useful trip for the purpose of gift giving. You see, a disproportionately large number of people in my immediate and extended family were born in the month of October. This leads to a great OUTflux of money in October for all the gift buying and mailing (By the by, why does it often cost more to pack and ship a present than the present itself actually costs? When is someone going to invent that Star Trek transporter gadget?). So now I can make my purchases and tote them with me across two states and hand them to my relatives in person. While the cost of gas may negate the cost I save on shipping, I still like to think that I can chalk this one up in the "win" column in the battle of me vs. the postal system.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Popsicle Toes

Last weekend I learned several things during my day trip to Clemson to revel in the orange, drunken atmosphere that is the Tiger football season.

The first lesson is that triple overtime means lots more beer. That was almost a given. There will be a quiz on this tomorrow during the game against Boston College.

The second is that after triple overtime and said beer, my feet can still autopilot me back to our tailgating spot - through downtown, across Bowman field, down the steps to the amphitheatre, around the reflection pool, past the library, past the Brooks Center, through the parking lot - over the river and through the woods. All this through a thick sea of orange coursing through the campus's veins. It's a good feeling to know my mind doesn't have to engage to make it across campus. This just goes to show that something from my education was able to engrain deep down in my brain. I somehow managed to take the final 20 exposures on my camera on my journey (yes, an old-school, point-and-click FILM camera, not a fancy-schmancy DIGITAL, for which I've been vying). I'm interested to see what's on that film. I don't recall exactly, but it is, in some form, all of the places listed above.

Upon return to the car, I learned my last lesson of the day. Well, the night, really. My father-in-law likes to keep the temperature of his car somewhere in the range of SUB ZERO to MEAT LOCKER. I was so cold, I didn't know if I'd be able to stand it. Now, I'm not a sleeper who likes covers, in general. In fact, I'm one odd duck: I generally dispise covers on my legs and feet, but enjoy covers around my shoulders. I also like to keep my head sandwiched between two pillows, which I read is something that autistic children do, but that's another story. So, in my father-in-law's car, I did have the fortune to bring my pillow, though not a blanket, and my tank-topped body was getting cold (It was 90 degrees that day, people! We were tailgating! I thought I was dressed appropriately!). So I took the pillowcase off of my pillow and wrapped it- nay, bound it with a frozen ferocity - around my shoulders. When we got home four icy hours later, we fell into bed. My husband said, "Ahhh, it's so nice to be home." I replied, "Ahhh, it's so nice to be warm!"

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Sounds of Silence

The other night R decided to watch some football in bed when it was past my bedtime. I have some awesome earplugs that he brought home from work that I wear in situations such as this. Yes, he listens to the TV at very low volume, but I have hyper-sensitive ears when I'm trying to go to sleep. Usually, I'll wake when he flippity-flops in bed once he's ready to go to sleep, and I'll take the stoppers out. But last night I was way too far into Dream Land to let something like that rouse me. I slept like a proverbial baby (not a real baby, mind you, because I hear that they sometimes - heck, often - don't sleep heavily). I would have never awoken from my dreams had R not shaken me. Ahh...sleep is so much better than waking at 5:30! Reason number 473 why I'm waiting to have kids: I like to sleep PAST 5:30 on weekends.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Silver Lining

One good thing about being in a hospital: Riding up on the elevator with a hot resident named Drake.