I will try to cover most of the bases here, briefly:
- No, I am not on drugs. Not this week anyways.
- I am shocked no one called me out on my claim to be 29- thank you.
- Thank you for trying to convince me I'm not a piggy, piggy slob.
- I really don't want Awesomebars to take over the world. Well, maybe not.
- The zits are getting better, thank you for caring about my blemishes. I am now able to unconvincingly "cover" them up. Ha!
- Glad y'all like my home cubicle/desk.
- My ovaries are great, thanks for asking.
I completed my second and final round of the dentistry olympics today. One crown, two bondings and two small fillings later I am finally finished. I took the silver. That Romanian bitch beat me again, but I'll get her in 2011.
My mouth is so numb that I couldn't speak to the receptionist when I was finished. I could be drooling right now, for all I can tell. I feel like Mushmouth from the Fat Albert Show.
As horrifying as the drilling, drooling, gauze-stuffing and the assistant with the particularly aggressive suction tactics was, the most disturbing thing about my visit to the dentist today had nothing to do with my teeth.
It was what was sitting on the counter in the exam room. It was scary beyond belief.
It was my Dentist's Christmas family photo.
They were all dressed in red and green, they all had "Santa hats" on, they all had some sort of prop, and they all looked like they wanted to shoot themselves in the head for letting Dad (my very nice and gee-whiz dentist) and Mom sucker them into this. Four adult "kids" and the Parents. This was a recent photo.
It scared me.
I didn't have a chance to get a picture of this picture, so I decided to re-create a few of the poses for you here today.
I spent $3.50 at Walgreens on the hat and mug on the way home- totally worth it.
This is the pose I'll call: "Oh! My cocoa is too hot! Damn Mom, you tryin' to kill me, bitch?"
I call this next one: "Susie hasn't quite kicked that crystal meth yet, but she sure seems excited about christmas!"
This one I call: "Given the choice, I would rather be forced to make sweet sweet love to Larry King than have to sit with these people another minute. I wonder if they can tell that I filled my mug with scotch?"
And finally: "My children are brats and I'm having an affair with my Pilates instructor. Everyone thinks I'm naturally happy, but really that's just the antidepressants."
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night...
Tomorrow: Almost-but-not-quite-live blogging from the beautiful city of Duluth, MN!