Dear Zit,
Now?
Really?
I gave you a zillion chances.
I begged, cajoled, pleaded, beseeched, demanded, implored, prayed and whined about the release from your death grip on my face.
Did you respond?
NO.
You ignored me.
"Not ready!" you alluded, growing larger and larger until your bloated form hung off my chin like a blood-engorged tick. You even had a face.
It was not smiling.
I gave up on torturing you with sharp objects and heavy machinery and resigned myself to my fate.
I was exhausted.
You won.
This morning, I tiredly smeared foundation over your angrily pulsing form and headed off to work.
Now fast forward:
Five minutes before I have to give a talk IN a conference room with a LOT of people who KNOW me, and will happen to SEE me (specifically, my face), what happens?
There I am in the bathroom checking my teeth (there's nothing more distracting than a speaker with spinach clouding their pearly whites so I always check) when I notice you, yet again, dear Zit. (God, how could I NOT notice you?)
I lightly brush my finger over your shameful bump wishing you were not quite so visible and
BAM!!!
You explode!
You explode and you start bleeding and there I am desperately dabbing at you going OMG not now not now!! And blood is running down my face and threatening to stain my sweater and OH MY GOD wtf IS this, it's like I just murdered a small mammal on my face! But I don't have time for you to clot!! And so I begin running down 5 flights of steps with a bloody napkin pressed into my chin, trying to act all "I'm totally normal!" while streaking around corners with my bloody rag waving like a victory flag of the deranged while pus and blood stream like drool down my chin.
So this is my question, dear Zit.
Were you trying to get me to pay less attention to how nervous I was about public speaking by confronting me with a disfiguring emergency?
If so, you won.
Ungratefully yours,
me
Thursday, December 13, 2018
Dear Zit (yes, another one)
I really don't know how to tell this story so I'll just share with you the letter I wrote to the other half of my face:
Wednesday, December 12, 2018
Me and my second head
I grew up in NJ, land of full-service gas stations. (This will be relevant in a moment.) Only two states in the entire U.S. offer full-service by law: NJ and Oregon. Never having pumped my own gas before, I pulled into a station one sunny afternoon, rolled the window down and announced to the attendant that I wanted to fill my tank. This is important because note that I had to actually speak to someone. Face to face. In order to get gas, the most mundane of tasks.
I flung my arm out the window to offer my credit card.
Only he wasn't interested.
Instead he stared at me, his face a giant question mark, fingers absentmindedly raking over the tall white turban resting on his head. He gazed at me as if I were a creature from outer space. A long awkward moment passed before I turned to look behind me. Was it a language barrier? A UFO landing? A cat giving birth to a zebra? A UFO giving birth to a cat?
No one was behind me.
There wasn't a single living object that could have so captivated his attention.
He stood there still staring. I asked again, this time with less certainty due to the weirdness that was developing, "fill 'er up please?"
Finally he pointed.
At my face.
Grinning slowly, he asked, unabashed, "What's THAT??"
He had an accent but I understood him perfectly.
I slowly followed his fingertip to the end of my nose, where there stood a giant red zit. A pustule pulsating happily in its glory at the defeat of the rest of my face, it knew it had won. Like the bulbous second head of a encephalic siamese twin, it mindlessly competed for visual attention through the sheer enormity of its very presence. I didn't have a chance.
A pimple. He didn't understand what was on my face because it was so large and grotesque that it was like a physical deformity. With childlike innocence he simply could not help himself from blurting out the unspeakable. Questions must sometimes be asked.
I narrowed my eyes. Brazen candor shall be met with its equal.
"It's a ZIT." I flatly replied.
He stood, shocked. That an ordinary red bump could so hijack one's face that it could become the sole point of focus was inconceivable. He took one last gaping stare before ripping his eyes away to focus on the more earthly task at hand: filling my tank.
We spent the next several minutes in awkward silence as I cursed the SLOW pump before paying and driving off in disgrace.
And then I made a slight change in plans that involved a tub of benzoyl peroxide, a car battery, needlenose pliers, a set of golf clubs and some Advil.
A moment of silence, please, in remembrance of its untimely death. But it was either it or me, and I got the brain.
I flung my arm out the window to offer my credit card.
Only he wasn't interested.
Instead he stared at me, his face a giant question mark, fingers absentmindedly raking over the tall white turban resting on his head. He gazed at me as if I were a creature from outer space. A long awkward moment passed before I turned to look behind me. Was it a language barrier? A UFO landing? A cat giving birth to a zebra? A UFO giving birth to a cat?
No one was behind me.
There wasn't a single living object that could have so captivated his attention.
He stood there still staring. I asked again, this time with less certainty due to the weirdness that was developing, "fill 'er up please?"
Finally he pointed.
At my face.
Grinning slowly, he asked, unabashed, "What's THAT??"
He had an accent but I understood him perfectly.
I slowly followed his fingertip to the end of my nose, where there stood a giant red zit. A pustule pulsating happily in its glory at the defeat of the rest of my face, it knew it had won. Like the bulbous second head of a encephalic siamese twin, it mindlessly competed for visual attention through the sheer enormity of its very presence. I didn't have a chance.
A pimple. He didn't understand what was on my face because it was so large and grotesque that it was like a physical deformity. With childlike innocence he simply could not help himself from blurting out the unspeakable. Questions must sometimes be asked.
I narrowed my eyes. Brazen candor shall be met with its equal.
"It's a ZIT." I flatly replied.
He stood, shocked. That an ordinary red bump could so hijack one's face that it could become the sole point of focus was inconceivable. He took one last gaping stare before ripping his eyes away to focus on the more earthly task at hand: filling my tank.
We spent the next several minutes in awkward silence as I cursed the SLOW pump before paying and driving off in disgrace.
And then I made a slight change in plans that involved a tub of benzoyl peroxide, a car battery, needlenose pliers, a set of golf clubs and some Advil.
A moment of silence, please, in remembrance of its untimely death. But it was either it or me, and I got the brain.
Thursday, November 29, 2018
LogicWoman tries again (where’s my cape?)
Me: I got your promotional email last night and tried to use the coupon but it didn't go through on my phone. Can you apply the coupon now?
Store: Oh, oops, sorry. It's too late. It doesn't work on a phone, you have to use a desktop computer.
Me: You can't retroactively apply the coupon?
Store: Nope, the order's already gone through.
Me: But it was for 35% off which would save a lot - is there any way to help? I just ordered it last night.
Store: Nope, the order has advanced to another department now.
Me: Fine. Can I return it then? I'll just re-buy it from my computer so the coupon will work.
Store: Hmm... let me see what we can do...
(Magically, they were suddenly able to apply the discount...)
Store: Oh, oops, sorry. It's too late. It doesn't work on a phone, you have to use a desktop computer.
Me: You can't retroactively apply the coupon?
Store: Nope, the order's already gone through.
Me: But it was for 35% off which would save a lot - is there any way to help? I just ordered it last night.
Store: Nope, the order has advanced to another department now.
Me: Fine. Can I return it then? I'll just re-buy it from my computer so the coupon will work.
Store: Hmm... let me see what we can do...
(Magically, they were suddenly able to apply the discount...)
Monday, November 12, 2018
If we chop it up, maybe it will fit...
Us (inside Home Goods sitting on the bench we just bought): "We're trying to figure out whether to return this since it won't fit in the car and we aren't sure how to get it home."
Clerk: "Well, the good news is, you could always return it to *any* Home Goods!"
Um... it's probably going to be THIS one, since we can't take it anywhere else!
My sweetie is now on injured reserve with an unspecified lower body injury after an incident involving the car seat but luckily the return was completed before either of us chopped it into little pieces and left it for kindling in the store foyer.
Clerk: "Well, the good news is, you could always return it to *any* Home Goods!"
Um... it's probably going to be THIS one, since we can't take it anywhere else!
My sweetie is now on injured reserve with an unspecified lower body injury after an incident involving the car seat but luckily the return was completed before either of us chopped it into little pieces and left it for kindling in the store foyer.
Thursday, November 1, 2018
On a more serious note
Some of the knots I've been in the past few weeks have calmed down a little enough for me to write about them.
Basically my mom needs this awful terrible surgery.
The surgery alone takes 6 hours.
Recovery is like 9 months to a year, although people can get back to some semblance of a routine in about 6 weeks (but it probably still involves dealing with the wound and drainage).
There's huge risks of infection (if the patient even survives).
I can't write this without crying.
It's so fucking hard to think that she has to go through this and the levels of pain she'll experience.
She may not get the surgery, because it's so risky.
But there are risks to not getting it.
I f she *does* get the surgery, the gamble--the whole reason why--is that it will be okay and the hope that (after a long period of recovery and pain) she will be fine.
But imagine having a date where you actually plan for your life as you know it to go away. For like 9 months. To schedule the kind of pain where you cannot breathe without agony. How does a physical being survive like that? Only so many coloring books and movies can get you through.
I've been in knots for weeks, ever since I learned about it.
On my birthday I cried driving into work thinking that this time next year on my birthday I may not have her.
This is just one portion talking but on an emotional level I don't feel like I could survive that level of loss.
Maybe you don't. Loss like that breaks you and you just reform in a different way.
It's just so much to think about.
I'm really trying to live in the "right now" where nothing terrible has happened yet. It's both a blessing and a curse to be human sometimes and have this ability to think ahead, imagine the future.
It's been hard to write about because I haven't wanted to face it really.
When I have talked about it, like to my dad, I feel myself becoming disembodied, in order to talk about it, and from a far away place I notice my heart rate rising and this slight feeling of faintness at the edges, things start getting a little darker and from that distant place I wonder curiously if I will just collapse. It hasn't happened yet but even now writing about it, it could almost.
Basically my mom needs this awful terrible surgery.
The surgery alone takes 6 hours.
Recovery is like 9 months to a year, although people can get back to some semblance of a routine in about 6 weeks (but it probably still involves dealing with the wound and drainage).
There's huge risks of infection (if the patient even survives).
I can't write this without crying.
It's so fucking hard to think that she has to go through this and the levels of pain she'll experience.
She may not get the surgery, because it's so risky.
But there are risks to not getting it.
I f she *does* get the surgery, the gamble--the whole reason why--is that it will be okay and the hope that (after a long period of recovery and pain) she will be fine.
But imagine having a date where you actually plan for your life as you know it to go away. For like 9 months. To schedule the kind of pain where you cannot breathe without agony. How does a physical being survive like that? Only so many coloring books and movies can get you through.
I've been in knots for weeks, ever since I learned about it.
On my birthday I cried driving into work thinking that this time next year on my birthday I may not have her.
This is just one portion talking but on an emotional level I don't feel like I could survive that level of loss.
Maybe you don't. Loss like that breaks you and you just reform in a different way.
It's just so much to think about.
I'm really trying to live in the "right now" where nothing terrible has happened yet. It's both a blessing and a curse to be human sometimes and have this ability to think ahead, imagine the future.
It's been hard to write about because I haven't wanted to face it really.
When I have talked about it, like to my dad, I feel myself becoming disembodied, in order to talk about it, and from a far away place I notice my heart rate rising and this slight feeling of faintness at the edges, things start getting a little darker and from that distant place I wonder curiously if I will just collapse. It hasn't happened yet but even now writing about it, it could almost.
Monday, October 29, 2018
Surprise!
Text from my sweetie: "I'm going to ruin the surprise by saying this but you need to answer your phone... the delivery people have been trying to reach you for an hour!"
Me, calling Help Desk back: "I need to cancel a ticket..."
Thursday, October 18, 2018
Thursday, October 11, 2018
All the fails of today
I have 20 minutes left in my staycation and it's looking even more bleak that I'll accomplish the following crucial tasks:
- Launder everything
- Get in shape
- Vacuum
- Write memoir
- Nap
- Establish meditation routine
- Touch up roots
- Finish signs for craft booth
- Decide on business plan/purpose
- Write will
- Ready packages for post office
- Redo personal website in Drupal
- Learn Drupal
- Go foodshopping
- Touch up rust spots on car
- Finish indignant blog post about restaurant visit fail
- Get packages ready for post office
However, I have organized the bookshelves and watered the plants so yay?
About the restaurant visit fail:
I neglected to implement any of my standard protocols for saving time by ordering ahead and instead waltzed into a place right at lunch hour. FAIL! Duh! Hubby and I swung open the door, saw the line, whirled and exited immediately.
 |
| (This makes a fine teeshirt.) |
I suggested we sneak into the place next door instead. The dining room was busy but I felt confident we could get take-out pretty fast. I worked in the restaurant industry in a previous life and a little-known fact is dine-in food can take the same amount of time as "faster food" restaurants like Panera. I was sure we'd have a nice bag of food ready to go in the same period of time we'd still be waiting in that other awful line.
The first fail was giving our order to Slackjaw #1 and trusting that the order was indeed taken.
I watched him scrawl the order out slowly wondering why he wrote the same exact thing twice but figured he had his system and we left to run another errand.
We got back when they said it'd be ready but it wasn't out yet. "Just a few more minutes," drawled Slackjaw 2.
A few minutes crawled into 10 minutes, 15, 20, 25 and 30 minutes. I kept asking and Slackjaws 1 & 2 both got slacker, kicking the floor and mumbling "just a few more minutes."
At one point I asked, "Can you go check? It's been a while."
"A few more minutes," he said.
I wanted to say, "You never went in the back to check, how do you KNOW it's only a few more minutes? You've been saying that for a half hour!"
But I was trying not to cause trouble. Yet.
After a half hour inched to 35 minutes, something in me snapped.
"Can you please explain what's happening? It's been 50 minutes now and I don't understand what's going on."
Slackjaw 2's eyes widened. He shrugged.
I thought maybe he didn't hear me and thought I was complaining about 15 minutes.
"It's been 50 minutes. Five zero."
He stared blankly, a deer in headlights.
"You've said it will be a few more minutes every few minutes for the past half hour. Isn't there something you can do? Or find out?"
He looked terrified.
I tried again, gently but firmly, the way I would have if I'd been training him. "I used to work at this chain. I know the kitchen times aren't that long. Seeing that it's been taking this long is a customer service opportunity. You shouldn't wait for me to come ask. Go find out what's happening or get the manager."
He seemed paralyzed. Slackjaw #1 saw this from several feet away and came over.
"Um, I guess I could ask the manager?"
YES please go get the manager, I thought. It's been almost an hour, a manager should have been called a half hour ago. What is wrong with you??
I nodded. "Yes, that would be good." (GO! Sheesh! Don't they train you folks??)
We waited almost 10 more minutes to see a manager and I turned to leave. "Forget this, forget the food, I'm never coming back." I went into the foyer and took a picture of the customer service line. "I'm calling this as soon as we get home."
The manager suddenly appeared. I was full-blown indignant but she apologized profusely, diffusing my rage. "We're going to comp this so it's 100% free. I'm so sorry. This should have taken 12 minutes to make, you shouldn't have waited this long."
"Thank you!! This has been terribly inconvenient," I said, drawing out how long we suffered, foodless and weak. Even though I was wearing the below, I drew upon bold NJ roots. What if I was an attorney needing to get back to my important office? How dare they!
I graciously accepted the free order and we sauntered back to the car, dignity restored by the justice bequeathed to us by the sympathetic supervisor.
In the car, hubby noticed me looking funny at the bag on my lap.
"Wait!! I saw them write this when they took our order. I could tell they didn't hear my name. Rhymes with 'Mitch' I guess? They didn't write this when we complained!"
Good thing because...!!!
The first fail was giving our order to Slackjaw #1 and trusting that the order was indeed taken.
I watched him scrawl the order out slowly wondering why he wrote the same exact thing twice but figured he had his system and we left to run another errand.
We got back when they said it'd be ready but it wasn't out yet. "Just a few more minutes," drawled Slackjaw 2.
A few minutes crawled into 10 minutes, 15, 20, 25 and 30 minutes. I kept asking and Slackjaws 1 & 2 both got slacker, kicking the floor and mumbling "just a few more minutes."
At one point I asked, "Can you go check? It's been a while."
"A few more minutes," he said.
I wanted to say, "You never went in the back to check, how do you KNOW it's only a few more minutes? You've been saying that for a half hour!"
But I was trying not to cause trouble. Yet.
After a half hour inched to 35 minutes, something in me snapped.
"Can you please explain what's happening? It's been 50 minutes now and I don't understand what's going on."
Slackjaw 2's eyes widened. He shrugged.
I thought maybe he didn't hear me and thought I was complaining about 15 minutes.
"It's been 50 minutes. Five zero."
He stared blankly, a deer in headlights.
"You've said it will be a few more minutes every few minutes for the past half hour. Isn't there something you can do? Or find out?"
He looked terrified.
I tried again, gently but firmly, the way I would have if I'd been training him. "I used to work at this chain. I know the kitchen times aren't that long. Seeing that it's been taking this long is a customer service opportunity. You shouldn't wait for me to come ask. Go find out what's happening or get the manager."
He seemed paralyzed. Slackjaw #1 saw this from several feet away and came over.
"Um, I guess I could ask the manager?"
YES please go get the manager, I thought. It's been almost an hour, a manager should have been called a half hour ago. What is wrong with you??
I nodded. "Yes, that would be good." (GO! Sheesh! Don't they train you folks??)
We waited almost 10 more minutes to see a manager and I turned to leave. "Forget this, forget the food, I'm never coming back." I went into the foyer and took a picture of the customer service line. "I'm calling this as soon as we get home."
The manager suddenly appeared. I was full-blown indignant but she apologized profusely, diffusing my rage. "We're going to comp this so it's 100% free. I'm so sorry. This should have taken 12 minutes to make, you shouldn't have waited this long."
"Thank you!! This has been terribly inconvenient," I said, drawing out how long we suffered, foodless and weak. Even though I was wearing the below, I drew upon bold NJ roots. What if I was an attorney needing to get back to my important office? How dare they!
 |
| "Can't you see I'm late for my high-powered job??" |
I graciously accepted the free order and we sauntered back to the car, dignity restored by the justice bequeathed to us by the sympathetic supervisor.
In the car, hubby noticed me looking funny at the bag on my lap.
"Wait!! I saw them write this when they took our order. I could tell they didn't hear my name. Rhymes with 'Mitch' I guess? They didn't write this when we complained!"
 |
| Wow. But it does rhyme with "Mitch" so.... |
Friday, October 5, 2018
I don't understand art
I really don't understand some art. I saw this at the International Fine Print Dealer's Association's annual fair in NYC: 4 canvases pieced together suggestive of how you'd display the set in your home. Even IF I somehow decided this was... notable (? I'm not really sure how to describe it) enough to display in my home, why pay for it? Why not just DRAW it?
If lines aren't your thing, well:
Or maybe you want something that combines both lines and circles, approaching portraiture:
Or maybe we do away with conventional attempts to form shapes and regress to "Two Year Old With Pen" or "Me Drawing With My Toes":
I realize that art by famous artists is going to fetch a hefty sum but I'm still mystified!!
If lines aren't your thing, well:
 |
| Only $9,500! |
Or maybe you want something that combines both lines and circles, approaching portraiture:
 |
| $14,000. I'm serious. |
Or maybe we do away with conventional attempts to form shapes and regress to "Two Year Old With Pen" or "Me Drawing With My Toes":
 |
| $20,000! Put your toes (or two-year-olds) to good use! |
I realize that art by famous artists is going to fetch a hefty sum but I'm still mystified!!
Monday, October 1, 2018
Lessons on teeth
I once went to the dentist for a tooth that hurt whenever I bit down. I thought maybe I had a cavity but it turns out my upper teeth are super sharp, like shark teeth, and they were wearing down my lower teeth. The dentist said she could fix this by smoothing the jagged edges of my top molars.
"Smoothing," she said, "can be done without anesthesia."
Note: Whenever someone enters your mouth with a drill, you should not be able to feel anything on that side of your face.
She tried to reassure me that she would be gentle and that she was working very "conservatively." Then she pressed the drill lightly against the first tooth and I almost flew out of the chair.
Mercifully, she noticed and immediately stopped.
"Mmm, ok. We'll use a little anesthetic to dull the sensation," she said.
Note: dental pain should not be "dulled." It needs to be "slain."
She reentered my mouth with the drill but the anesthetic hadn't kicked in yet.
Note: If you can move your tongue, you're not numb enough. Your face has to be, as a famous comedian has said, sliding off your skull.
"Hmmm," she said, "maybe we need some more anesthetic."
Note: If they have NOT numbed the area sufficiently, I don't care if they only intend to "gently smooth" your teeth. Teeth are as hard as diamonds and filing involves a drill.
She went in again and another lightning bolt of pain seered down my spine, threatening to separate my spinal column in two. I reflexively chomped down. She then realized things needed to be completely numb before doing ANY MORE work.
She injected a full dose of anesthetic this time and waited for it to "take" instead of forging ahead.
I read two 2 full magazines and then my face fell off my skull and I was happily pain-free for the rest of the procedure. Yay! But it took until midnight that I could speak like I wasn't brain-damaged.
Painless dentistry is awesome. I will let my teeth fall out of my head before I ever subject myself to drilling without anesthetic again!
Here are more teeth tips!
Keeping your teeth in top shape:
1: Get (and maintain!) sealants. They minimize wear and cavities. Get them even if insurance doesn't cover it -- they're not that expensive and will make your teeth last longer.
2: Use a flouride rinse. Flouride rinses are the only thing that actually help your teeth remineralize and can actually repair small cavities. Don't eat for 30 minutes after gargling.
3: Floss. Every day. A woven floss is better than waxed or teflon floss -- it's more pliable and cleans more completely.
4: Do not chew ice. You may be able to see cracks in your teeth, hairline fractures from years of abuse with a flashlight. This is depressing but not necessarily a problem, just don't keep pushing your luck. Don't chew on hard objects like ice, pens or pencils, hard candy, clothing tags, your nails, or anything brittle. My dentist said that's the number one reason people crack teeth. (Same goes for animals too -- it's not a great idea to let them chew on ice.)
5: If you clench your jaw or grind your teeth at night, get a mouth guard.
6: Use an electric toothbrush. It's not just hype. After this incident, I went a YEAR without setting foot in the dentist's office because I was too traumatized to even think of getting back in that chair. When I finally made myself go, I thought my teeth would be in terrible shape but they said it looked like I'd just had a cleaning. Don't brush too hard because that'll make your gums recede. It takes very little force to get plaque off. Be gentle on your teeth and they'll be good to you for years to come!
6. Ask for a "cervical collar" lead apron at the dentist next time you get an x-ray. X-ray exposure to tissue is cumulative so it's good to have this special apron to protect your thyroid.
I hope this helps your teeth live long and may you never need your teeth "smoothed"!
"Smoothing," she said, "can be done without anesthesia."
Note: Whenever someone enters your mouth with a drill, you should not be able to feel anything on that side of your face.
She tried to reassure me that she would be gentle and that she was working very "conservatively." Then she pressed the drill lightly against the first tooth and I almost flew out of the chair.
Mercifully, she noticed and immediately stopped.
"Mmm, ok. We'll use a little anesthetic to dull the sensation," she said.
Note: dental pain should not be "dulled." It needs to be "slain."
She reentered my mouth with the drill but the anesthetic hadn't kicked in yet.
Note: If you can move your tongue, you're not numb enough. Your face has to be, as a famous comedian has said, sliding off your skull.
"Hmmm," she said, "maybe we need some more anesthetic."
Note: If they have NOT numbed the area sufficiently, I don't care if they only intend to "gently smooth" your teeth. Teeth are as hard as diamonds and filing involves a drill.
She went in again and another lightning bolt of pain seered down my spine, threatening to separate my spinal column in two. I reflexively chomped down. She then realized things needed to be completely numb before doing ANY MORE work.
She injected a full dose of anesthetic this time and waited for it to "take" instead of forging ahead.
I read two 2 full magazines and then my face fell off my skull and I was happily pain-free for the rest of the procedure. Yay! But it took until midnight that I could speak like I wasn't brain-damaged.
Painless dentistry is awesome. I will let my teeth fall out of my head before I ever subject myself to drilling without anesthetic again!
Here are more teeth tips!
Keeping your teeth in top shape:
1: Get (and maintain!) sealants. They minimize wear and cavities. Get them even if insurance doesn't cover it -- they're not that expensive and will make your teeth last longer.
2: Use a flouride rinse. Flouride rinses are the only thing that actually help your teeth remineralize and can actually repair small cavities. Don't eat for 30 minutes after gargling.
3: Floss. Every day. A woven floss is better than waxed or teflon floss -- it's more pliable and cleans more completely.
4: Do not chew ice. You may be able to see cracks in your teeth, hairline fractures from years of abuse with a flashlight. This is depressing but not necessarily a problem, just don't keep pushing your luck. Don't chew on hard objects like ice, pens or pencils, hard candy, clothing tags, your nails, or anything brittle. My dentist said that's the number one reason people crack teeth. (Same goes for animals too -- it's not a great idea to let them chew on ice.)
5: If you clench your jaw or grind your teeth at night, get a mouth guard.
6: Use an electric toothbrush. It's not just hype. After this incident, I went a YEAR without setting foot in the dentist's office because I was too traumatized to even think of getting back in that chair. When I finally made myself go, I thought my teeth would be in terrible shape but they said it looked like I'd just had a cleaning. Don't brush too hard because that'll make your gums recede. It takes very little force to get plaque off. Be gentle on your teeth and they'll be good to you for years to come!
6. Ask for a "cervical collar" lead apron at the dentist next time you get an x-ray. X-ray exposure to tissue is cumulative so it's good to have this special apron to protect your thyroid.
I hope this helps your teeth live long and may you never need your teeth "smoothed"!
Saturday, September 8, 2018
Um...
You know that magic trick where the illusionist displays an empty cup and an object, places the cup over the object and then raises it to reveal the object has completely vanished into thin air? That just happened. Except the object was a cricket and I'm not a magician.
Tuesday, July 10, 2018
Stories
You can't walk out of a hospital without having stories. Your stories, other people's stories, everything. You meet someone in the lobby and they're going to have a story. Why are they here? Well, unless they work here, someone they love is getting special care, something that can't be cured with a box of tissues and meds from the drugstore. It's a level up.
The lady sitting across from us pointed her chin at the door. "You just keep an eye on that. This beeper doesn't work." She held up the flashing lighted device in disdain. "The surgeon came out and it never notified me!"
We looked at each other for a beat, each wondering why the other was here but not really wanting to chat. She went first.
"I've been here 10x so far in the past several months."
Ouch. We all winced. 10x? Must be serious. Fuck.
"Cancer. Stage 4. The treatment isn't working. After this surgery I'm selling everything I own and taking him to Mexico for a treatment they don't approve here. It probably won't work. I don't care. We've run out of options and I just can't give up."
We nodded gravely. We hugged, complete strangers in a strange waiting room. Something caught in my throat and I turned away. Worlds collide in hospitals and people are never the same when they collide. We become amalgamations of each others' experiences. In this way, we are never truly separate, and never truly alone.
The lady sitting across from us pointed her chin at the door. "You just keep an eye on that. This beeper doesn't work." She held up the flashing lighted device in disdain. "The surgeon came out and it never notified me!"
We looked at each other for a beat, each wondering why the other was here but not really wanting to chat. She went first.
"I've been here 10x so far in the past several months."
Ouch. We all winced. 10x? Must be serious. Fuck.
"Cancer. Stage 4. The treatment isn't working. After this surgery I'm selling everything I own and taking him to Mexico for a treatment they don't approve here. It probably won't work. I don't care. We've run out of options and I just can't give up."
We nodded gravely. We hugged, complete strangers in a strange waiting room. Something caught in my throat and I turned away. Worlds collide in hospitals and people are never the same when they collide. We become amalgamations of each others' experiences. In this way, we are never truly separate, and never truly alone.
Monday, July 9, 2018
GO AWAY (solicitors not welcome!)
People just came to the door, complete strangers. I cracked open the door suspiciously and saw two young girls standing several steps away. I instantly regretted not having the proper welcome mat.
Strangers: "Hi! Oh don't you look comfortable!"
I looked down self-consciously at my telework outfit.
Strangers: "Well anyway we are walking around the neighborhood today. Isn't it nice out?"
Me (interrupting): "So how can I help you?"
Strangers: "Oh! Well we are here to talk to you about your energy bill."
FUCK, I thought. They're about to get into it. They had that look.
Me: "Just so you know, I don't buy anything, sign anything or give out any information."
Strangers: "Oh! Of course. We aren't selling anything. Anyhoo, you know how there's a label on your electric bill? Be a doll and why don't you login to your account and we'll show you. It restricts access to clean energy but we can help."
Me: "I don't have a login."
Strangers: "OHMYGOD what?? You still use a <gasp> PAPER bill?"
Me: "Yeah. Anyway so thanks..."
Strangers: "Oh that's okay, if you want to go find the paper bill, we'll wait!"
Me: "I don't have one right now. Anyway, thank you but..."
Strangers: "Oh that's okay, you can go look for one!"
Me: "Um, no thanks, I don't have one, and anyway..."
Strangers: "Well, we can come back in a few weeks!"
Me: "No, that's okay, I don't give out info, buy anything, sign anything or receive house calls."
They looked crestfallen.
I softened slightly.
Me: "Well, if you want to leave brochures or business cards or whatever, I'll look at them later."
Strangers: "Oh funny you should mention that, we don't have anything, we just ran out. Anyway, think about it. Clean energy!"
Me:
They finally left and I told hubby. "The whole time, they were standing right next to the trash can probably wondering what the heck is wrong with these people because it smelled so bad!"
He said, "ha, oh you should have said, "Sorry about the smell, that's just the last people who came here trying to sell something. Boy they put up a hell of a fight. Anyway, what can I do for you?"
In the meantime, we are now looking for special police DO NOT CROSS tape for the front door!
Strangers: "Hi! Oh don't you look comfortable!"
I looked down self-consciously at my telework outfit.
 |
| (Just kidding but I will fucking buy this and keep it by the front door for next time!) |
Strangers: "Well anyway we are walking around the neighborhood today. Isn't it nice out?"
Me (interrupting): "So how can I help you?"
Strangers: "Oh! Well we are here to talk to you about your energy bill."
FUCK, I thought. They're about to get into it. They had that look.
Me: "Just so you know, I don't buy anything, sign anything or give out any information."
Strangers: "Oh! Of course. We aren't selling anything. Anyhoo, you know how there's a label on your electric bill? Be a doll and why don't you login to your account and we'll show you. It restricts access to clean energy but we can help."
Me: "I don't have a login."
Strangers: "OHMYGOD what?? You still use a <gasp> PAPER bill?"
Me: "Yeah. Anyway so thanks..."
Strangers: "Oh that's okay, if you want to go find the paper bill, we'll wait!"
Me: "I don't have one right now. Anyway, thank you but..."
Strangers: "Oh that's okay, you can go look for one!"
Me: "Um, no thanks, I don't have one, and anyway..."
Strangers: "Well, we can come back in a few weeks!"
Me: "No, that's okay, I don't give out info, buy anything, sign anything or receive house calls."
They looked crestfallen.
I softened slightly.
Me: "Well, if you want to leave brochures or business cards or whatever, I'll look at them later."
Strangers: "Oh funny you should mention that, we don't have anything, we just ran out. Anyway, think about it. Clean energy!"
Me:
They finally left and I told hubby. "The whole time, they were standing right next to the trash can probably wondering what the heck is wrong with these people because it smelled so bad!"
He said, "ha, oh you should have said, "Sorry about the smell, that's just the last people who came here trying to sell something. Boy they put up a hell of a fight. Anyway, what can I do for you?"
In the meantime, we are now looking for special police DO NOT CROSS tape for the front door!
Sunday, June 24, 2018
How to get kicked out of an open house real estate showing
Me: "Want to go to an open house just for fun?"
Hubby: "Sure."
Me: "Uh oh, what if the realtor thinks we're serious and starts a sales pitch?"
Hubby: "We'll just go in, start looking around and say things like, "I'll tell you right now, this wall's gotta come out. And the driveway's not big enough for the trailer. Where's Uncle Billy going to live?? Can we dig a well out back? This might be a good room for all your feral cats!"
Hubby: "Sure."
Me: "Uh oh, what if the realtor thinks we're serious and starts a sales pitch?"
Hubby: "We'll just go in, start looking around and say things like, "I'll tell you right now, this wall's gotta come out. And the driveway's not big enough for the trailer. Where's Uncle Billy going to live?? Can we dig a well out back? This might be a good room for all your feral cats!"
Saturday, February 10, 2018
I better not get the flu.
Most colds have an incubation period of 3-5 days. Today marks exactly THREE days since I was in the emergency room waiting room visiting someone dear who'd been admitted for an emergency appendectomy.
I've been sniffling all day and I can't tell if I'm about to get slammed with whatever these people had or my nose is just being weird.
There was NO ONE in the waiting room but us and they were standing RIGHT next to me, coughing and sneezing and generally spraying the plague in my direction. They were all wearing masks, which hospital personnel confirmed, "Anytime someone comes in exhibiting flu symptoms, we make them wear that." (We'll find out soon enough if that works or it's just a big cloth placebo.)
How come, given an entire waiting room that was empty and open, people flocked right over to me? It happened ALL night. Especially the sickest of the sick. They wouldn't even sit, because that would mean they couldn't get close enough to me. NO, they chose to stand right next to me so we were almost touching arms. I got up and moved once and that was awkward, but seriously.
There was an entire inviting cavernous expanse of space full of chairs and sofas with which to writhe to one's heart's content, why throw all that away just to STAND next to the only other person in the waiting room? I don't understand.
If I get sick, I'm going to be pissed. I can't miss work next week, it'd be a terrible time to be out. Two weeks from now I can probably schedule a good flu, but not right now.
Wandering around the hospital, one notices things:
"Nourishment" -- I guess they couldn't quite bring themselves to call it "food":
On the hospital menu. I kind of feel like if you need your corn muffin pureed, can't you just wait until you can actually eat it? Is it really that urgent?
I've been sniffling all day and I can't tell if I'm about to get slammed with whatever these people had or my nose is just being weird.
How come, given an entire waiting room that was empty and open, people flocked right over to me? It happened ALL night. Especially the sickest of the sick. They wouldn't even sit, because that would mean they couldn't get close enough to me. NO, they chose to stand right next to me so we were almost touching arms. I got up and moved once and that was awkward, but seriously.
There was an entire inviting cavernous expanse of space full of chairs and sofas with which to writhe to one's heart's content, why throw all that away just to STAND next to the only other person in the waiting room? I don't understand.
If I get sick, I'm going to be pissed. I can't miss work next week, it'd be a terrible time to be out. Two weeks from now I can probably schedule a good flu, but not right now.
Wandering around the hospital, one notices things:
 |
| I didn't see anyone using these hand sanitizing stations but us but at least they were there. |
 |
| When the hospital doesn't have a marketing arm: "What should we call what's behind this door?" "The kitchen?" "Well, is what's in here really food?" "Good point..." |
 |
| Pureed Diet menu. The first item is one big giant breakfast shake that comes in a bucket. |
Monday, January 29, 2018
Slippery ad lingo
How many minutes does it take before location advertising should not say "within minutes"?
"Within minutes to the beach!"
"Within minutes to the metro!"
"Within minutes of the airport!"
When they say "within minutes," I think they mean less than 10 minutes but it seems they mean up to 59 minutes.
That is not within minutes!! It's within an hour!
"Within minutes to the beach!"
"Within minutes to the metro!"
"Within minutes of the airport!"
When they say "within minutes," I think they mean less than 10 minutes but it seems they mean up to 59 minutes.
That is not within minutes!! It's within an hour!
Wednesday, January 3, 2018
Travel planning...
I can TELL that you didn’t check it.
Me (at car repair shop): "Please look specifically at the windshield fluid tank. I tried to fill it up and it all leaked out so something must be wrong."
Shop: "Yep, we'll be sure to check."
<Later>
Shop: "Your car is ready!"
Me: "Did you check the windshield fluid reservoir?"
Shop: "Yeah, it was fine."
Me: "Are you sure? I dumped a whole bottle of fluid in it yesterday and it all immediately leaked out right at my feet."
Shop: "Yeah, no idea why it would do that. It was fine."
Me: "Can I talk to the mechanic who checked the car?"
Shop: "He's gone. And anyway it's fine. Just come pick it up."
Me: "Can I come tomorrow when he's in?"
Shop: "Um, okay."
Me to hubby (installing inner Jersey Girl): "I know they didn't check it. Why would it suddenly be fixed?? I'm going there with a giant jug of water tomorrow and pouring it into the tank right in front of them! I want to see if it leaks out."
Next day:
Me (holding giant jug of water): Hi, I'm here for my car. Can I talk to the mechanic?
Shop: "Uh, okay... one second..."
5 minutes later: "Huh... funny thing. Turns out that the windshield fluid tank IS cracked after all. So weird!"
I knew it! Do not test the Jersey girl!
Shop: "Yep, we'll be sure to check."
<Later>
Shop: "Your car is ready!"
Me: "Did you check the windshield fluid reservoir?"
Shop: "Yeah, it was fine."
Me: "Are you sure? I dumped a whole bottle of fluid in it yesterday and it all immediately leaked out right at my feet."
Shop: "Yeah, no idea why it would do that. It was fine."
Me: "Can I talk to the mechanic who checked the car?"
Shop: "He's gone. And anyway it's fine. Just come pick it up."
Me: "Can I come tomorrow when he's in?"
Shop: "Um, okay."
Me to hubby (installing inner Jersey Girl): "I know they didn't check it. Why would it suddenly be fixed?? I'm going there with a giant jug of water tomorrow and pouring it into the tank right in front of them! I want to see if it leaks out."
Next day:
Me (holding giant jug of water): Hi, I'm here for my car. Can I talk to the mechanic?
Shop: "Uh, okay... one second..."
5 minutes later: "Huh... funny thing. Turns out that the windshield fluid tank IS cracked after all. So weird!"
I knew it! Do not test the Jersey girl!
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