September 2004 Archives
But lucky for me there wasn't even a need for lasers. Only painful painful x-rays and painful painful pokey scrapey thing. Why are the x-rays so painful? Am I the only one whose mouth cannot handle the sharp plastic edges and the gag-inducing sterile taste? The pokey scrapey thing is allowably painful, due to its pokey scrapey nature, but x-rays? In theory, they should be painless (save, of course, the feeling of uneasiness when they cover you with a lead apron, leave the room, close the door, and point the x-rays directly into your head).
So my mouth got thoroughly scoured and I was told to rinse and spit, which I proceeded to do, only to find that I was spitting out gobs of blood. MOUTHFULS OF BLOOD! Oh, no wait, the toothpaste was just red. I was left alone to contemplate the employment of red toothpaste. Is this so the real blood gets hidden in the innocent paste? Is it so the dentists can feel less guilt for making you bleed? Or is it a cruel cruel joke for the poor person who gets to think for five seconds that the entire top membrane of the inside of her mouth has been brushed away?
Spam subject lines with unlikely names, hints at intriguing backstories
Alden does this make you happy now?
Cyrus call the doctor.
Augustine haven't I done enough?
With my aunt, Porokhovnikova.
--------
But I didn't know: dogs can smell cancer. I think this is interesting, but will probably freak a lot of people out, given dogs' propensity to sniff at crotches and oh, everything.
--------Like when I got my hair cut and had a new hair dresser who was DISMAYED at my current hair cut ("Your hair, it is not fashion."). So much so that he gave me a real quiet and serious consultation where I got confused about whether he was telling me I needed shorter layers or asking whether he could perform a highly experimental and very expensive operation on my favorite pet that was extremely risky but JUST MIGHT SAVE HIS LIFE. My hair is very fashion now.
I could also tell you about seeing "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow", but I don't remember anything from the movie except Gweneth Paltrow had very red lips and Angelina Jolie had very big lips and they needed chapstick.
There were times when I could have used your input. Such as when no one could tell me how a gelato with every kind of donut (presumably including creams and jellies and coconuts) could turn out to be a good thing*. Or how two carts half a block away from each other could remain lost to one another for THREE HOURS. Big questions, people.
*UPDATE: Apparently we can taste this flavor for ourselves. Anyone?
I'm not sure I could understate this enough, but there is a small chance that there might be an opportunity for me to meet Zach Braff sometime in the distant future. But if it did happen, these circumstances are such that it would be a smallish meeting and I would probably get to like, shake his hand or something.
And lastly, there has also been various wedding stuff here and there. You would think that if you are planning a year engagement that that would leave you plenty of time not to worry about things, but it turns out the wedding industry wants to worry you about things for as long as they possibly can and will invent things that you should be doing approximately five years before you plan to have your ceremony. I am going to try very hard to tell the wedding industry they can take a flying leap because I will not spend thousands of dollars on a dress, nor will I make finding a limo to the airport a priority. Because you know what? Wedding industry = scary. Besides, according to my bridal etiquette book, it is the groom's job to arrange for the limo to the airport.
--------
I'm off parading the fiance* in front of more family. This is the Jewish side, so probably no tommy-hawk throwing. Although that would certainly make for an exciting new year.
*Whenever I say "fiance" I get that episode of Seinfeld in my head. You know, with the dingo...
--------
I am back from Oklahoma and starting an all vegetable diet right now. J and I were fed like caged children being fattened up for an eating by a starved witch. Breads, potatoes, rice, pastas and the 6 C's: cakes, cobblers, cookies, cream, cheese, and candy. Readers, we are roly poly. But you know, in a good way. J got to meet the entire family and I am happy to say they spared him no eccentricities.
He even got to witness first hand the myth creating powers of my family. Though he intended to be old-fashioned and ask my dad for his blessings for his daughter's hand in marriage, that never happened due to rearranged travel plans and a general case of antsy pants. But someone misunderstood something along the way and suddenly all the relatives are looking at J with googoo eyes and saying, "So I heard you called her dad first! That is SO sweet!" Even when J would correct them and tell the real story, they would look like they didn't quite believe him.
One of my aunts was appalled that we were visiting and would only be seeing relatives. Determined to expose us to a slice of Oklahoma history, she drove us up to Woolaroc, a wildlife preserve, museum, and historic site. I am interested to see that the online description of the museum includes the term "Native American art." This is interesting mostly because the entire time we were at Woolaroc the only term we saw written, spoken, or presented was "Indian," which pretty much summarizes the particular point of view presented by the museum. But J and I did get to shoot a musket and throw a "tommy-hawk," which were major highlights of the trip. I also rode a Harley.
It was strange to be out of the city and put right into the middle of Tulsa. Things cost almost nothing; store clerks chatted with you the entire time you were browsing for things; the highways you had to take everywhere were confusing; there were lots of strangely reappropriated buildings (gas stations turned into BBQ joints and garden centers, a Wendy's made into an organic food center); everyone drove. It would be a strange thing to have to live in such a place and I don't know if I could do it. New York felt very much like home when we got back.
I loaded up an album chock full of Phoenicia Phun here for you. You have to set up an account, but it is quick and free. Or you can go to bugmenot and they will give you a login. I entice you with horse balls.
--------
I'm only in the office for today before we take off for Tulsa, so you'll have to wait for the entire Phoenicia extravaganza recap. But I will fast forward to the most exciting thing that happened on the trip, which is: J and I are engaged! There were stars and hidden champagne and collect calls home. We are going to choose a setting for some heirloom diamonds that my family has, but in the meantime J gave me this beautiful steel band with a tension held diamond:
Lalala wedding!
I spent my morning creating a driving playlist on J's iPod. Growing up with the sweat and toil of mix tapes, this was the most ridiculously easy thing I've ever done. It is like I spent my whole childhood learning how to use cheesecloth and rolling perfect homemade pasta and someone just handed me a box of Kraft mac and cheese. I can sense now that the "Back in my day" hard luck stories I tell my kids will be riddled with type command computer games, record/pause during commercial VCR disasters, and sad car-heat melted mix tapes. I'm sure they will create their own Mp3 disasters and I will cry empathetic when they lose big reports to crappy computer hard drives, but I think every generation feels the failing of technology in a unique way.
But right now? No tears. Happiness of creating a 4 hour playlist in approximately 20 minutes. lala.
I am off to search K-mart for beach towels and sunscreen. It is also the last frontier of possible cute bathing suits in my size. Happy holiday weekend.
--------