Fluid Pudding

I’ve spent pretty much all of my life going to dentists who make me feel uncomfortable.

Dentist #1: My childhood dentist who died. He was a good guy, but I had to stop seeing him because he died. (Continuing our relationship would have been creepy. Illegal, even.)

Dentist #2: The dentist who set up an appointment for a check-up, and then talked me into letting him sedate me and remove two wisdom teeth. When I woke up, he asked if I had a driver. When I said, “No. This was originally scheduled as a check-up.”, he said, “Well, be REALLY careful on your way home.” (I should not have been driving. I realized that when I was about halfway home. This will tell you how loopy I was: I drove past my apartment and straight to McDonald’s, where I tried to order a vanilla shake with my mouth full of bloody gauze. I ended up having to pull up to the window to place my order, and I’m sure I rattled the drive-thru employee with my bloody gauze, swollen face, and inability to speak.)

Dentist #3: The guy in Nashville who told me that he had a friend who could remove six of my teeth and then slap some braces on me to help me lose my migraines forever. That was fine (I had the teeth removed and I had the braces, but I continued to get migraines. Damnit to hell!) until he said, “But be aware that you’re not going to have those pretty fat lips when your braces come off.” Dear Lord, Nashville dentist. Pretty fat lips?!

Dentist #4: The guy who was recommended by a friend and I really really liked him, but he retired less than two months after seeing me for the first time. Argh!

Dentist #5 and #6: The married couple who took over #4’s practice. They were nice enough (although their political opinions are vastly different than mine. Please know that they made their opinions VERY well known, and they assumed I agreed with them. I’ve learned to act like I’m cool with whatever you’re saying if you’re holding a drill and pointing it at my mouth.), but they were highly impatient if you raised your hand because you were feeling pain and needed a break. The final straw came around when #6 didn’t wait until I was numb before he started drilling, and when I raised my hand and said, “I’m not numb.” he slammed the drill down and yelled for the receptionist to schedule more time for me. He then told the assistant that he really didn’t have time for this. And then, because my teeth aren’t the only things that are sensitive, a lonely tear ran out of my eye and dripped off of my ear and I know he saw it, but he remained all cold and weird. And that’s when I started apologizing over and over again. (I KNOW everyone occasionally (or often, even) has a bad day, but I don’t need your bad day to make MY day bad!)

Dentist #7: I used a Groupon. Need I say more? Actually, I do need to say more. This experience was so terrible that after the appointment, I sat in my car outside of a family-owned deli (and a cat clinic) and cried for nearly 15 minutes before I drove home. (I AM EMOTIONAL SOMETIMES!)

Dentist #8: Feeling desperate, I returned to #6. Still the same nice guy with very little patience. (When I asked about whitening, he said, “Why don’t you go to Walgreens and get yourself some strips? You’ll quickly learn that they don’t work and that your teeth just change colors as you age.” OUR PERSONALITIES ARE VERY DIFFERENT, NO-NONSENSE DENTIST!)

Dentist #9: Jeff’s boss’s boss recommended this dentist, and I’m very pleased to say that he will be my Forever Dentist. Broadway artwork on the walls. Vacation photography slideshows in the exam rooms. Hygienists who listen and compliment my hair. An office manager who is super friendly and kind.

Anyway, I went to #9 yesterday morning, and as soon as I walked in the door, the office manager said, “I have something to tell you.”

Me: What is it?

Office Manager (I’m not providing her real name because: Anonymity!): Are you a blogger?

Me (very reluctantly, because I don’t really identify myself as a blogger): Yes.

Office Manger: My daughter in New York knows your blog.

From there, we had a five minute conversation about a website that watches nannies and reports negligent behavior, parenting blogs with questionable commenters, and what it’s like to grow up in the city as opposed to the suburbs. I then went back and had my teeth cleaned and checked out, and was given the Free to Fly for six months. No yelling. No tears. No sedation, no driving drunk, and best of all? No Slingblade-esque comments about my mouth.

Anyway, Yes. It always makes my day when someone else brings up my website. It’s rare, but smiley. Like “I’ve finally found a nice dentist” smiley.

Enjoy the rest of your Wednesday.

NaBloPoMo is tough. Let me know if you need/want anything from me. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

This is the avocado sandwich I made for Jeff this evening.

This is the festive holiday cardigan I tried on at the mall a few hours ago.

(The scarf is the result of CGI. I wouldn’t wear the cardigan without a scarf.) Anyway, I sent a photo of the sweater to Jeff with a note that said, “Honesty. Is this tacky?”

Jeff: There’s a lot going on.

Me: Are you talking about the dancing girls and the dog and the piano?

Jeff: There are dogs in there?

Me: There’s a dog sitting on the piano.

Anyway, I didn’t purchase the sweater, but I came home with its little cousin–a scarf with the same pattern. Dancing girls and dogs on pianos are best in small doses, don’t you think? ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

On the left is a jar of apple butter that was delivered to me this morning by my mom and dad. It was made at a church that is attended by a woman named Minerva who lives across the street from my folks. When stirred into hot tea? It is PERFECT. (It is also perfect when spread thinly (or even thickly) onto an English muffin.)

On the right is a jar of honey that was passed along to Jeff yesterday by his mom and dad, who have hives on their property. We get one or two jars each year from them. When stirred into hot tea? It is PERFECT. (It is also perfect when drizzled over the cookies that are made with only oats and bananas. That link will take you to a version that contains walnuts. I leave out the walnuts.)

One other thing that is perfect when stirred into hot tea? Teavana’s German Rock Sugar, which is now called Perfectea Rock Sugar and I personally think the name change is crap, and I wonder if it has anything at all to do with the three-way marriage between Oprah (and her weird chai blend), Starbucks, and Teavana. The jar I have was purchased as German Rock Sugar, and I’m not sure I’ll ever buy Perfectea Rock Sugar, because: Come On. (The good news? With all of this apple butter and honey, it will be a long time before I need to explore my convictions.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Jeff took the girls to his parents’ house, and all I got was a bunch of freelance done and this amazing shirt:

(Also, some weird flaky Nutter Butter cookie things, another chapter of Mockingjay completed, three rows and a leaf knit onto my Leftie, and a load of laundry dried.)

((I also considered making pumpkin pie snickerdoodles, but then I changed my mind and ran in place to a Taylor Swift song. Meredith bought the new album, and I allow myself to listen to it only if I’m running in place (or driving a car). If you need more of an explanation for this, you really don’t know me at all.)) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Harper and I are currently reading Mockingjay together (although she’s currently around 30 pages ahead of me) to prepare for the movie release. I really need to pick up the pace, because I grabbed both Not That Kind of Girl and One Day from the library this afternoon. (Living so close to the library has been one of my favorite things about moving.)

Eighteen years ago this evening found Jeff and I on our first date. We ate Thai food and then went to the art museum to catch the St. Louis Film Festival’s showing of Shine. Afterwards, we drank coffee and I decided that this was the guy with whom I was supposed to hang out until death us do part. (The night before our first date found us at a Halloween happy hour with many co-workers, including the daughter of Susan B. Komen. (Don’t get me started.) Anyway, I eventually journeyed to the restroom where I apparently took too long to tuck my big bulky sweater into my jeans, because when I returned to the table, I found that everyone had left—except for Jeff. The two of us then drove 20 miles south to eat toast at a diner, but it didn’t count as a date because Thai + Art Museum > Beer + Toast.)

Tempe and I are knitting Leftie by Martina Behm. It’s an easy and fun knit, and mine is looking like this:

My dad’s tomato plants froze up last night which means it’s the time of year when I transform into Fitful Knitter.

(If you’re knitting something, let me know what it is. There’s a good chance that I’ll make one, too.)

I hope your Halloween was a good one and that your Saturday has been even better. I’ll see you tomorrow. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

So, three days in a row must mean that not only am I going to throw my goat into the rodeo for NaBloPoMo, BUT, I’ve actually started early.

The girls were off school today, so we celebrated by driving 20 miles south to my doctor’s office, where I made the following announcement:

“I haven’t slept for more than one or two hours at a time in over a month, and sometimes when I wake up I’m making death claws with my hands.”

We talked for a bit (about Halloween and the weather!), he complimented my blood pressure (90/68!), I told him I take 10,000 steps each day (I did last week because a friend threw down a sparkling gauntlet, but this week not so much), and I walked away with a suggestion (to get my heart rate up to a 7/10 daily) and a bottle of Trazodone. And before you click your tongue and tell me about how terrible Trazodone is, please stop. STOP. First, because that clicking sound makes me so angry, and finally, because I’m impressionable and I don’t want to swallow a pill tonight thinking, “This is the pill that made ArizonaSportsFan24 want to die.” Instead, I will swallow that pill thinking, “This is the non-addictive pill with little to no side effects (except for that weird priapism thing) that will get me back on the road to wellness.” And in a few weeks I’ll feel great and will stop the pills. The End.

After the appointment, I took the girls to the mall because I was jonesing for some quick and easy coffee, Harper felt that she deserved hot chocolate, and Meredith was having visions of cinnamon sugar pretzel nuggets. Plus, we needed tights, and I wanted to find a pair of cheap and casual black boots. (Success. $12.)

In approximately 10 minutes we’ll be driving to the store for avocados, spinach, French bread, and bananas. And then I suppose I should start thinking about cutting a hole or four into a pumpkin. I’ve never been a fan of Halloween, mainly because hell is people coming to my door, regardless of their age. (Last year we put a cauldron full of candy outside with a sign that said, “Please take one or two.” Less than ten minutes later, the cauldron was empty because someone clearly couldn’t read.) Now that we’re in a subdivision with 34,239 kids, I have no idea what to expect.

This photo was taken exactly seven years ago.

Meredith was Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, and Harper was Murray Wiggle.

This year, Meredith will be Hazel Grace Lancaster from The Fault in Our Stars, and Harper will be Glimmer, the career tribute from District One in the Hunger Games.

And here we go. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Me (on the phone with my mother): I am pleased to report that Dr. H had a cancellation and will be able to see me tomorrow morning at 9:00.

Mom: Why are you going to the doctor?

Me: The no sleep thing is driving me crazy, and something needs to be done.

Mom: This is the first I’ve heard of your nosebleeds!

Me: I’m not having nosebleeds!

Mom: Then why are you going to the doctor?

On a related note, I had a hearing test on Monday because I’m a little off and I feel like I’m either losing my hearing or everyone is starting to mumble around me. Please know that my eye doctor once told me that a normal person with my vision would not require glasses, but some people are especially sensitive to slight changes and glasses seem to help, regardless of how weak the prescription is.

Audiologist: I would give you an A+ on your hearing, but maybe you’re one of those sensitive people who are really thrown off by tiny changes.

(He then said something about ear wax, and I asked him to stop talking because: Ear Wax.)

Teavana’s “Spice of Life” tea is one of my very favorite things right now and I’ll certainly give NaBloPoMo a shot, but be aware that the entire month will find me wearing my Reticence is Forgiven shirt. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Well, would you look at that? I just took a three week break from Fluid Pudding without even realizing that I was taking a three week break! And the best news? The world kept spinning for (nearly) everyone.

Actually, I *did* manage to stop by here a few times and I found myself typing sentences about the washer and dryer we purchased a few weeks back and then I looked in the mirror and asked myself who I want to be and if singing songs about a top loader will get me there.

I haven’t slept for more than two hours at a time in over a month and it’s making me cranky and weird, and although All Women Are Beautiful Without Makeup, I’m choosing to use heavy-duty scar-covering spackle to reduce the appearance of the cavernous gray semi-circles under my eyes. Regarding the sleep thing, I’ve tried Melatonin. I’ve tried Magnesium. I’ve tried Xanax. I’ve tried exercise during the day and deep breathing in the evenings. The only thing that works for me is my meditation CD, and it works for only 53 minutes, because it is exactly 53 minutes long. Did I mention that we got a top loader? My jeans smell fresh!!!

Our 13th wedding anniversary sort of came and went because Jeff had to fly to New York on short notice.

I finished a cowl and then finished another cowl.

I scored some freelance and will be able to continue scoring freelance because I was hired by the group who provides services to the company for whom I was already providing freelance services. This means: Because I passed the background check, even more people in the world know that I have never been charged with a (serious) crime; and, I will no longer need help with figuring out taxes because everything I owe to this great nation of ours will be removed and distributed for me, Toby Keith.

Twelve days ago, we were able to hang out at a place that looked like this.

Last weekend I watched an amazing musical based on Bonnie and Clyde. I had my hearing checked on Monday. Jeff went to Topeka yesterday. I hit my goal weight at Weight Watchers this morning.

And now you’re all caught up, yet yearning for more… ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

This morning I walked into the kitchen and was presented with a flyer from Sears. (Please know that this post was not sponsored by Sears.)

Jeff: This weekend is the weekend I’ve been looking forward to for a very long time.

Me: I don’t understand what’s happening right now.

Jeff: Huge appliance sale. Washers and dryers. I’m thinking these might be good.

He then pointed to a front loading washer and its dryer partner, so I threw the flyer down and kissed Jeff in a way that only a woman with hopes of a new washer and dryer would understand. (Our current washer and dryer are 12 years old, and their most recent performance evaluations were not very positive.)

It has occurred to me that many people have very strong feelings when it comes to front loaders vs. top loaders, and one should probably be familiar and comfortable with oneself before making such a crucial decision.

Because I’m still waiting to hear if I’m able to continue doing freelance work, I have a little bit of time to explore my identity before deciding my washer style.

According to the Buzzfeed quizzes:
I’m attracted to boys who eat Froot Loops in the bathtub.
I am not a stoner.
I am Chow Mein.

You helped me with the slip cover. Do you have any words of wisdom regarding washers? (I know you do.) Wait. Before you tell me what we should choose, please know that I prefer lasagna to spaghetti, and my spirit Beanie Baby is Patti the Platypus. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Last week at around this time, my mom was being sewn up after spinal surgery. A few hours later everything went batty and she ended up in an intensive care unit, but five more days have passed since then and now she’s home and may be able to ditch her walker by next week.

Last week I had to submit 19 forms to a firm who will hopefully hire me so that I can continue to do exactly what I do right now, which is freelance editing from home. The company for which I’ve been doing the bulk of my work has decided to hire this firm to control their freelance population. (As I type this paragraph, someone out there is performing a background check to make sure I haven’t Squeaky Fromme’d anyone in the past ten years.) The 19 forms made me a cranky mess because “Why can’t I just keep rolling the way I’ve been rolling?” but deep down I know that things change. If for some reason it is decided that I’m not worth hiring, I’ll need to hit the streets to see if I can find another gig.

Last week I finished reading The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. I have a tricky time expressing just how much I loved this book, so I’ll just say this: Radiant and sparkly and warm and perfect. If you have a chance, try to score a copy of the audiobook along with a hard copy. Jim Dale is the perfect narrator.

This morning I joined Weight Watchers again, because now that it’s cooling off outside, I’m finding that the pants that fit me last October no longer do.

Weight Watchers Lady: Do you want today to be a fresh start or a continuation?

Me: I’m glad you asked that question, but I don’t understand what it means.

Weight Watchers Lady: Do you want today to be considered your first day, or do you want your booklet to reflect the nine and a half pounds you’ve gained since your most recent visit?

Me: Um, let’s go with Option Number One.

Please know that although Weight Watchers works for me (when I’m actually doing it), I don’t recommend it to anyone else. We’re all beautiful just the way we are. Radiant and sparkly and warm and perfect. (I’m going to need those pants to fit if I have to look for a job.)

The house is still great and it’s SweeTango season.

I’m participating in the Honey Cowl knitalong sponsored by the Lighthouse Buddies.

Finally, because you’re so helpful, our main couch is now wearing a slip.

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