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May. 2nd, 2006 07:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cleolinda>> So I have a massive headache from holding my mouth open for an hour and a half, but my fillings are in and they look gorgeous. Well, the one that you can see--for some reason, I had a canine that had basically just eroded away at the gumline. You wouldn't have seen it unless I pulled my mouth back that way, and good God, why would I do that, but seriously, you could just about smuggle a roll of microfilm back there. Didn't hurt at all, but you could tell that it would eventually if it got any deeper. And then I had a weird cavity between my two front teeth, which had contributed to my chipping the back of the tooth one day, and created 1) a small gap between my teeth and 2) a deadly little razor-sharp jag on that back. And then there was one that I could neither see nor feel, so who cares about that one, but the other two: look gorgeous now.
But I haven't had a filling put in since I was in my early teens, if I recall correctly, so I'd forgotten what the process was like. Generally, I have had good teeth all my life; it's only recently that things have gone downhill. This may have something to do with the fact that I'm in my late twenties--I read last month that your memory takes a steep dive at the age of twenty, which explains both why teenagers (including me as one) have such an extensive grasp of trivia and why I suddenly went stupid at the age of twenty-one. I'm serious, I think I remember the day I actually went stupid. I was a junior in college and I thought I'd just had a little too much to... drink. Yes. Drink. Too much to drink. And the next day, I couldn't remember who won Best Actress in 1994, and was suddenly terrified that I'd killed important brain cells. These days, I can't even remember who won Best Actress two years ago, so clearly it's all Flowers for Algernon up in here.
(This is another reason I don't believe that Kaavya Viswanathan--and more on her in a few paragraphs--"internalized" other people's works. Bitch, please. You were seventeen when you wrote the book, which is well under the Algernon Threshold, if I may coin a phrase. Shit, you're still under the threshold. If you were twenty-five, I'd almost be able to believe you.)
(Does "threshold" have one h or two there in the middle? Dammit, I can't remember!)
Which is a roundabout way of saying HOLY SHIT NEEDLES IN MA MOUF I CANNA FEEW. Seriously, I knew I was in trouble when I said "Ow!" and Dr. Jones (no relation) said, "That was the Q-tip." The needles were, in terms of pain, the worst part of it. Dr. Jones is an excellent dentist who did an excellent job and I'm not afraid of him at all, which is good because then he revved up the drill ("RRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEER!"), and I don't know if you've been under a dental drill any time recently, but that, my friends, is one of your Come to Jesus moments. "I'll be good! I'll brush, I promise! I don't like being stabbed by a thousand mints but the new prescription fluoride toothpaste you gave me, it's actually really gentle and I really do like the taste OH GOD PUT THAT DOWN I'LL FLOSS! I'LL FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!"
I actually didn't feel anything, but just the sound of the three different drill bits--and trust me, you can distinguish between them, much the way that I imagine the hounds of hell have distinct individual barks--is righteously creepy.
And then there was painting and daubing and sanding and I realized... I couldn't feel my nose. "Dotta Jo, I canna fee by dose! Wheh ih by dose? WHEH DIYU BUHT BY DOSE?"
Also, when I left the office and checked the mirror afterwards, I had a weird livid patch on my lip. Almost white, like there was no blood there. Very creepy.
But it was fun, mostly--he was in a silly mood, and was asking me about the book and was doo-doo-dooing whatever came on the radio, which at that moment was "She Works Hard for the Money." "I kinda want to write a book. I could write a book about disco. Doo-doo-doo doo-doo doo-doo... What do you think about poetry? I just don't understand it, myself. Maybe I'm just ignorant."
"Seh de man wideh driw innis han!"
And he and I and the hygienist sat there and laughed for like ten minutes. You probably had to be there.
Oh, and then, he's chatting on, and he says, "You know, I'd like to write a book someday. A geopolitical book. About what's gone wrong with this country," and I'm all like, "Go Dotta Jo! Powa tooda peepa!" And then he's like, "I'd write a book like that girl... you know, she's on Fox News all the time... ANN COULTER. What's wrong? Did I hurt you with the drill?"
>> So I download the POTC2 trailer this morning (skip back one entry for screencaps, and two entries for trailer link), and an hour or so later my mother came upstairs to look for some DVD my sister (who is back on her "I'm a pastry chef and I'm okay; I school all night and I work all day" schedule) needed returned to Blockbuster or wherever. "Hey, there's a new trailer!" I holler, 'cos I'm Southern. "You wanna see it?" So she comes in--no other words were spoken. I warned her of nothing--and she has two reactions:
1) Come Put on No Dress in My Cabin: "Hee, that's cute."
2) "OMG THEY HAVE A KRAKEN?!"
I come by it honestly, y'all.
>> Kaayva Viswanathan has now been accused of plagiarizing Sophie Kinsella (!), Meg Cabot (!!), and Salman Rushdie (?). This makes for, at my last count, a total of four authors and five books that she has stolen from. Her deal is canceled, her books are being pulped. I am enjoying myself way too much over this, except for a slight twinge of sadness that someone who isn't even twenty yet could screw up her prospects this badly. Apparently, however, she has said she would rather "go into finance" rather than be a full-time writer anyway, so... it looks like she's gonna get her wish.
Linkspam:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
zenzicube: "I was wondering if you could post a link to the Net Neutrality Act that's up for consideration in the House and Senate." Which I think I've mentioned before, and cannot be mentioned often enough. All you need to know is that if it doesn't go through, it's gonna cost you money, which ought to be enough of a rallying cry for anyone. (ETA: Sorry, I muddled that a bit. Net Neutrality is good. It's in a world without Net Neutrality that you'll be charged more to access various levels of the internet. I blame the dental anesthesia, sorry.)
boarderbunny: "I know you have a penchant for beautiful, colorful, and fantastical jewelry so I thought you'd like this woman's work."
lemur123: "C for Cookie" (aka "V for Vendetta by Muppets"). I think I've linked to this before, but people email me about it at least twice a week, so might as well post it again. : )
fxchip: "Canadian Music Creators Coalition: A New Voice: a coalition of Canadian music creators who are basically against what the record companies are doing, i.e. suing their fans."
careyleah: "Hey Cleo - I am shamelessly begging for linkage here. Sorry about that. It's timely though, because the 20th anniversary of Chernobyl was this past Wednesday. This organization that donates medical care to kids in the Chernobyl region (who still have tons of terrible health problems) need to raise a lot of money ($40,000) fast to get a 16 year old boy surgery to remove cancerous tumors. You can learn all about it here. They are a great group and would really appreciate any amount of support."
But I haven't had a filling put in since I was in my early teens, if I recall correctly, so I'd forgotten what the process was like. Generally, I have had good teeth all my life; it's only recently that things have gone downhill. This may have something to do with the fact that I'm in my late twenties--I read last month that your memory takes a steep dive at the age of twenty, which explains both why teenagers (including me as one) have such an extensive grasp of trivia and why I suddenly went stupid at the age of twenty-one. I'm serious, I think I remember the day I actually went stupid. I was a junior in college and I thought I'd just had a little too much to... drink. Yes. Drink. Too much to drink. And the next day, I couldn't remember who won Best Actress in 1994, and was suddenly terrified that I'd killed important brain cells. These days, I can't even remember who won Best Actress two years ago, so clearly it's all Flowers for Algernon up in here.
(This is another reason I don't believe that Kaavya Viswanathan--and more on her in a few paragraphs--"internalized" other people's works. Bitch, please. You were seventeen when you wrote the book, which is well under the Algernon Threshold, if I may coin a phrase. Shit, you're still under the threshold. If you were twenty-five, I'd almost be able to believe you.)
(Does "threshold" have one h or two there in the middle? Dammit, I can't remember!)
Which is a roundabout way of saying HOLY SHIT NEEDLES IN MA MOUF I CANNA FEEW. Seriously, I knew I was in trouble when I said "Ow!" and Dr. Jones (no relation) said, "That was the Q-tip." The needles were, in terms of pain, the worst part of it. Dr. Jones is an excellent dentist who did an excellent job and I'm not afraid of him at all, which is good because then he revved up the drill ("RRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEER!"), and I don't know if you've been under a dental drill any time recently, but that, my friends, is one of your Come to Jesus moments. "I'll be good! I'll brush, I promise! I don't like being stabbed by a thousand mints but the new prescription fluoride toothpaste you gave me, it's actually really gentle and I really do like the taste OH GOD PUT THAT DOWN I'LL FLOSS! I'LL FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!"
I actually didn't feel anything, but just the sound of the three different drill bits--and trust me, you can distinguish between them, much the way that I imagine the hounds of hell have distinct individual barks--is righteously creepy.
And then there was painting and daubing and sanding and I realized... I couldn't feel my nose. "Dotta Jo, I canna fee by dose! Wheh ih by dose? WHEH DIYU BUHT BY DOSE?"
Also, when I left the office and checked the mirror afterwards, I had a weird livid patch on my lip. Almost white, like there was no blood there. Very creepy.
But it was fun, mostly--he was in a silly mood, and was asking me about the book and was doo-doo-dooing whatever came on the radio, which at that moment was "She Works Hard for the Money." "I kinda want to write a book. I could write a book about disco. Doo-doo-doo doo-doo doo-doo... What do you think about poetry? I just don't understand it, myself. Maybe I'm just ignorant."
"Seh de man wideh driw innis han!"
And he and I and the hygienist sat there and laughed for like ten minutes. You probably had to be there.
Oh, and then, he's chatting on, and he says, "You know, I'd like to write a book someday. A geopolitical book. About what's gone wrong with this country," and I'm all like, "Go Dotta Jo! Powa tooda peepa!" And then he's like, "I'd write a book like that girl... you know, she's on Fox News all the time... ANN COULTER. What's wrong? Did I hurt you with the drill?"
>> So I download the POTC2 trailer this morning (skip back one entry for screencaps, and two entries for trailer link), and an hour or so later my mother came upstairs to look for some DVD my sister (who is back on her "I'm a pastry chef and I'm okay; I school all night and I work all day" schedule) needed returned to Blockbuster or wherever. "Hey, there's a new trailer!" I holler, 'cos I'm Southern. "You wanna see it?" So she comes in--no other words were spoken. I warned her of nothing--and she has two reactions:
1) Come Put on No Dress in My Cabin: "Hee, that's cute."
2) "OMG THEY HAVE A KRAKEN?!"
I come by it honestly, y'all.
>> Kaayva Viswanathan has now been accused of plagiarizing Sophie Kinsella (!), Meg Cabot (!!), and Salman Rushdie (?). This makes for, at my last count, a total of four authors and five books that she has stolen from. Her deal is canceled, her books are being pulped. I am enjoying myself way too much over this, except for a slight twinge of sadness that someone who isn't even twenty yet could screw up her prospects this badly. Apparently, however, she has said she would rather "go into finance" rather than be a full-time writer anyway, so... it looks like she's gonna get her wish.
Linkspam:
zenzicube: "I was wondering if you could post a link to the Net Neutrality Act that's up for consideration in the House and Senate." Which I think I've mentioned before, and cannot be mentioned often enough. All you need to know is that if it doesn't go through, it's gonna cost you money, which ought to be enough of a rallying cry for anyone. (ETA: Sorry, I muddled that a bit. Net Neutrality is good. It's in a world without Net Neutrality that you'll be charged more to access various levels of the internet. I blame the dental anesthesia, sorry.)boarderbunny: "I know you have a penchant for beautiful, colorful, and fantastical jewelry so I thought you'd like this woman's work."lemur123: "C for Cookie" (aka "V for Vendetta by Muppets"). I think I've linked to this before, but people email me about it at least twice a week, so might as well post it again. : )fxchip: "Canadian Music Creators Coalition: A New Voice: a coalition of Canadian music creators who are basically against what the record companies are doing, i.e. suing their fans."careyleah: "Hey Cleo - I am shamelessly begging for linkage here. Sorry about that. It's timely though, because the 20th anniversary of Chernobyl was this past Wednesday. This organization that donates medical care to kids in the Chernobyl region (who still have tons of terrible health problems) need to raise a lot of money ($40,000) fast to get a 16 year old boy surgery to remove cancerous tumors. You can learn all about it here. They are a great group and would really appreciate any amount of support." 
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no subject
Date: 2006-05-03 11:56 am (UTC)I'd rather go to the gyno than the dentist though. The gynocologist never comes at me with a drill, and I can still talk while I'm there.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-03 03:46 pm (UTC)