Trying To Make A Claim

I have yet to do this, but my shitty insurance got switched back to the original "no premium, here's your dental insurance back because your poor" plan. So I'm going to send in the claim from when I got my teeth pulled. Worth a shot. If it doesn't happen, I'm dropping their asses because I'm finally back to my "domestic partner" status on Mike's insurance. 

Even if it does happen, I don't want anything to do with an insurance company that sends me a bar of dark chocolate in the mail as a thank you. Why? Because "small amounts of dark chocolate are good for you..." and yeah, small amounts of dark chocolate can also be lethal when your ding dong dog and cat eat them. I ate half and absent-mindedly left it on the coffee table only to find the empty wrapper on the floor yesterday afternoon. 

Oh, don't worry, they're fine. I did take Hugo, our dog, to the vet to get his vitals checked because I'm completely neurotic and needed peace/piece of mind. I should submit his bill to my insurance company too. But still, I would blame Network Health if anything were to happen. Luckily Hugo's run-in with rat poison that nearly killed him when he was a puppy (and helped ruin my 21st bday) has given him an iron stomach for the most part.

I Still Can't Eat Sandwiches

Today I was on a boat to watch a big sailboat race thanks to the hospitality of Puma. It was sorta a big deal. Anyway, what started out to be a beautiful day ended in the city of Boston being enveloped in fog. 

The lovely little boat that we were on had boxed lunches so I dug into a turkey sandwich. I got super psyched because I thought, "This is it! This is going to be the first time I eat a sandwich like a normal person in 3 months!". My editor and creative director from Stuff Magazine were with me, as well as my Puma PR friend and about 8 other people, so I didn't want to look like a weirdo. Yeah no. Didn't happen. Tried it. Barely bit down. Couldn't do it. Had to tear it up. Well worth it though, as was the delicious brownie. 

We were in NYC two weekends ago and my friend Josh ended up cutting my pizza for me at one point. I'm a frigging mess otherwise. All I want to do is effing bite my food, dammit. Will it ever happen?!

The New Jewess On The Block

In other news, I got the Jew talk at dinner earlier this week. It had been a shit day at work - shooting summer fashion in the North End (the I-talian neighborhood) with no model (the agency eventually sent us a replacement - who was perfect - about 2 hours after call time), a cracked out hair stylist who kept drinking beer in the street and a short amount of daylight to shoot in. All in all, it ended up pretty kick ass but frustrating nonetheless. So the last thing in the world I want to do is have this conversation that I know I'm about to have. 

After Mike kept getting yelled at for not being serious, I was told by his dad how honored, grateful, etc they are that I'm making the decision to convert (something I brought up at Passover, don't know if I ever mentioned that here). He tells me that they've met with the rabbi they chose for me (in which his mother chimes in, "she's not very attractive" - I totally know where Mike gets it now). Hopefully she'll never read this, yikes. Bottom line, there are two ways that rabbis deny you into the tribe (according to Sex & The City, you get denied 3 times before you're allowed to start the conversion). One involves getting a door slammed in your face. The other involves reading copious amounts of books. Can you guess which one I got? Yeah. So I'm probably going to have to write a book report to become Jewish. Luckily, Mike has offered to write it for me. I mean, I write a lot, I write often, it's not that I can't do it. But I write about shoes and clothes and sparkly things. Not G-d.

Immediately after the conversion convo - which BTW "Jew school" begins in September, happy birthday me - Mike's mom asks if we have an idea when we want to have our wedding. You could literally see Mike turn pale and crap out his heart. I told her one thing at a time. We still have at least 21 1/2 months to go. She's also looking forward to learning Hebrew with me and teaching me how to cook Jewish meals. Oy.

So basically in a year, I'll be Jewish. Or as my love Jeannie says, Druish (which sort of makes sense since I'm mostly Irish and Druids are Irish). My friend Sam, who is Mexican, gave me a great idea for my bat mitzvah (yes! I'm finally becoming a woman). It's going to be a quinceanera-themed bat mitvah. Sam keeps calling it my bat quince. When a Latin girl turns 15, she has a quince the way I had a sweet 16 only far more illustrious. Her godparents give her a rosary, a bible, a tiara, her first pair of heels and earrings. So for my bat quince, I will receive a Star of David or a hhai (the symbol for life - Mike's dad wears one and I think it's awesome), a Torah or at least a prayer book, and all the rest, preferably a pair of Louboutin or YSL's for the heels (we'll have to see). The food will be Mexican-Jewish fusion, although I don't think that's very kosher. Maybe we substitute beef for gifelte fish? Blech, wouldn't eat it either way.

Oh yeah! We have to keep kosher for a year. Which isn't too hard because we typically don't have food in the house. Really, I just have to keep the turkey out of the cheese drawer and the turkey meatballs on a separate shelf from the ice cream. Mike said we can keep the NYC apt our kosher home, but that would mean Shaka would have to throw out those Jamaican patties he left in there over a year ago. Gross.

This is going to be quite the ride...

21 1/2 Months To Go

I'm getting better about the serious amount of metal in my mouth. It still hurts like balls but my third tightening this past week wasn't so so bad. I still have no clue what's going on when they do tighten and don't really feel like getting into the conversation with my ortho. 

At the last tightening, she put in a new spring to continue to push closed my top gap to help space out my fronts. It's pretty incredible to see how much the bottom is closing in given that it's only been 2.5 months. I'm told that I'm a good brusher, but I'm sure my new hobby (dental hygiene) is a lot more boring than typical ortho patients of the under 16 crowd. Speaking of orthodontic demographics, it was the over 40 crowd when I stopped in for my tightening. All I could think is 1. good for you 2. at least I'm not the oldest and 3. I will never again get braces.

A Bit Tardy

I just found this from a while back on my phone because I didn't have access to the internets:

"You know what sucks? Braces. And mobile blogging. And King of the Hill. I'm writing a letter to Adult Swim immediately."

Clearly, it wasn't a good evening.

It's Been A While

Tomorrow is my second tightening. The first one was quick and mildly uncomfortable. Didn't bother me much after either. So that's 6 weeks down, 22.5 months to go. Endless.

I am not a particular fan of the braces. Everyone keeps telling me I'm adorable, that no one else could pull them off as well as I do, that I look 12. I don't know how to smile anymore. The second someone pulls out a camera, I freeze up and try to smile with my mouth closed. Or my hand goes up like a Japanese schoolgirl. This leads for awkward Facebook pictures later on. I'm also scared to eat at parties because I don't want to get shit stuck in there. It's one thing if you're sitting down for a meal at a restaurant, but another when working a room and meeting people for the first time. I also preface every convo with someone new with "I have braces!" because when I don't, someone ends up pointing them out to me. Oh yeah, didn't realize those were there, thanks! I'm sure one day I'll get over this all and walk around with a full grin and parsley stuck in my braces. No time soon though.

The inside of my lips are getting a bit more tough and now it only really hurts when I try to bite into food. I have to cut everything into small pieces and have yet tried to eat a sandwich. I ate hard boiled eggs recently and it sucked.

One of the gaps where I used to have a pre molar bleeds almost every time I brush but the ortho didn't look into it when I mentioned this at my last visit. Maybe tomorrow she'll tell me what's up.

Chewing: Still A Bad Idea

I decided that since the spacers are out, I would make turkey meatballs and pasta for dinner. Mike enjoyed it thoroughly. Me, not so much because I didn't realize that now all my teeth feel like they're going to fall out when I bite.

Earlier in the evening, my friend Brianne from home left me a voicemail with advice about braces. Besides that they're the worst thing ever and she wanted to smash her face into a brick wall for a week, then a less abrasive wall the following two weeks - she warned against eating with forks and spoons because if they hit the hardware in your mouth, you'll cry. Haven't had much of a problem with that. I just want to eat like a normal person. It's been almost a month! 

The Day Has Come

Last night I dreamt of Paris. I've never been, so leave this all to an active imagination. I was with Mike's mom and we were staying at the Ritz. I woke up in my big, beautiful bed to find that I had gotten braces in my sleep, but just on the bottom. Then my alarm went off in real life and I did not wake up at the Ritz in Paris. 

Mike dropped me off at the ortho, who has gotten more and more pleasant each time I visit. I'm sure we'll be old chums by the time this ordeal is through. As soon as she popped out those damn spacers, it felt like my molars were gong to fall right out. The most painful part were the bands just because the teeth are still super sensitive. Everything else was cake, except for when I had to swallow.

When she handed me the mirror 2 hours later, I recoiled. I couldn't even really look at first. They're pretty ugly. People say to me that my crooked teeth were unnoticeable. If they were, they aren't now. My shit is so crowded and oddly rotated that it looks like a train wreck. For some reason, all I could think about was my friend Matt Lorenz. I think he was one of the first kids in my class to get braces in 7th grade. Maybe it's because I had to chose what color to do my rubber bands. Matt had red and green ones once - at the time, it reminded me how much he used to love the Ninja Turtles when we were in 2nd grade.

Mike walked in just as I was putting on my coat. I didn't want to show him. Now he says he's already used to them. We'll see about that later. There was a lady waiting at the elevator who overheard our conversation. She looked at me and I let her in on what just happened. We discussed her son's braces as we rode down to the parking garage. She wished me luck. 

On our way home, Mike took me to Johnny's in Newton Centre for a shissel of matzoh ball soup. I couldn't look the waiter in the face at first, but then I blurted when he came back with my chocolate milk (I don't do coffee) that I just got braces "...like 10 minutes ago". My soup was delicious and I keep finding weird new contraptions in my mouth. Mike joked that he should get me "prego" 9 months before I have to get the braces off so I can have a "momentous day". That sorta freaked me out. He's also afraid that I'm going to scare our friends' babies. I'm afraid that I'm going to scare the dog. Plus I'm more concerned that I get these things off before the Apocalypse (thanks, Discovery Channel!).

Sent out some photos to loved ones. My favorite response was from my boy Adam G, who's a men's apparel designer for Zoo York: "Tell everyone they're YKK or RiRi and before you know it, everyone's going to have braces. You're a trendsetter." He, of course, is making reference to zippers, which means he's been sleeping at the office again. Adam and I were friends throughout high school and the poor guy went through orthodontic hell for the most part of our teenage years.

Anyway, I'm a bit nervous showing people how f-ed up my teeth look now. I know, it'll be worth it in the end (the ortho says I have beautifully shaped teeth). They don't hurt, but it hurts to look at them. Oh well, I have little dignity as is and how else are you going to vote for what color I should change my rubber bands to next (my friend Sam is particularly excited about this). So here it is, make yourself familiar with the official Brace Face:

P.S. My editor at Stuff, Erica, thinks that something similar to this should be my staff photo. I'm not one to disagree.

Dammit!

The spacers are beyond painful. Worse than ever. Can't chew. Even a banana is hard to get down. I just want to eat some damn turkey meatballs. I've been in so much pain I haven't been posting regularly at NB or eating very much, which is why i feel sick to my stomach and dizzy today. I just keep reminding myself it will all be worth it in the end. 

5 days and counting... Mike is going with me so he can be the first to laugh. No, he doesn't want me driving back from the 'burbs alone after all of that. 

Casey wants a t-shirt that says "My best friend has braces" with an arrow point my way. I think I'll make on for her. 

My friend Jasmine is going to the handsome dentist for some Invisalign consulting. She sends me an email today saying that in a few years we both will have "pretty, pretty teeth". I thought that was sweet.

Space Cadet

See that blue guy there? I have 7 of those in my mouth right now. They hurt like hell - honestly, more than anything up until now (with the exception of opening my mouth the first few days after surgery). 

After sitting for 20 minutes in the chair at the ortho, she (the ortho) comes in, pokes around and gets down to business. I was annoyed how long I waited. I was also under the impression that I'd be getting metal spacers like that of my childhood (only on my upper right, which prevented evil toothhood) where they pulled my first pre-molars. Nope. She flossed these suckers in and it made me wince each time. But thanks to that metal spacer I had back in the day, I only needed one of these jerks on my upper right. Then she proceeded to tell me (although she prefaced with "I shouldn't tell you this but...") that during final exams (HS? college? dental school?) she had just gotten the same spacers and they drove her nuts, so she kept pulling them out and putting them back in.

Five minutes later, it was done. She sent me packing with some extras attached to floss in case any fall out. I get them out next week when the braces go on, so really, if one comes out, I don't think I'm going to bother. I'm assuming that this pain will be similar to what it feels like to get braces tightened, which will be happening every 3 weeks, starting next Tuesday. 

I proceeded to eat a sandwich, which took about 20 minutes. Probably because I was cutting it and am still new to the whole fork-and-knife thing since I've spent most of my life avoiding foods that can't be cut with the side of my fork. The sandwich, although delicious and more healthy than just drinking an Odwalla Super Protein drink, was probably a bad idea. The spacers make it feel as if something is caught in your teeth and I've been obsessively checking to make sure they haven't fallen out since I ate. Took 2 Aleve at work, but that didn't seem to do much.

Guess it's back to the oxycodone for me...

Light Dinner Conversation

A week to the day after my surgery, I was already back to one of my several jobs - styling a photoshoot for a local mag (I'll put up pics once their out - 2nd week of March). It was a cold and windy day and not exactly the kind of weather you really think "spring fashion". Needless to say - poor model (at least I get to keep my coat on for the outside shots). 

Immediately after we wrapped (OK, I did some quick returns), I joined Mike and his parents, bro and girlfriend for dinner at Hamersley's. Most of the dinner convo revolved around my surgery and the other blonde girl from NJ's travails at law school. Now there's an interesting dichotomy in Mike's family, which I believe I handle very well (I better with 6 years under my belt), so please don't take Mike's comments all too literally. His mom does sometimes, and that occasionally leads to misunderstandings.

So the convo goes down like this, with the topic moving from my surgery to me getting braces:

Mike: Braces are a great excuse to postpone a wedding.

Mike's Mom (exasperated): That's a terrible thing to say, Michael.

Mike (to me, in a completely joking manner): Honey, I just wouldn't want you to be upset with the pictures because you have braces.

Me: I thought I was doing this so I wouldn't ruin the pictures in the first place.

Mike's Mom continues to yell at him for his original comment.

Mike: I would marry you tomorrow if it weren't for the braces.

Me: I won't have the braces tomorrow, so you have yourself a good two weeks to make good on that.

Mike: Well then, all you have to do is sign a piece of paper I have...

Then after some chastising from his mother, Mike began to explain that my braces will be platinum with diamond settings. The engagement braces are once again a point of reference. If only they could be transformed into a ring afterward. He's totally going to kill me for sharing this silly exchange.

Then his dad started insinuating fart jokes. Once again, he saves my day.

I swear I'm not obsessed with getting married - it's just that it's been the undertone of my orthodontic adventures.

Recovery

I've had a remarkably quick recovery. Have taken maybe 7 1/2 pain killers (mostly in halves) and it feels more like my teeth are going to jump out of my gums. This is what I'm guessing braces might feel like. Also, the stitches have been most itchy. Took a couple days before I could brush my teeth well - I have a cleaning set for March 16th so they really have their work cut out for them. Started eating solids again because I might just stop eating if I have potatoes for one more meal. Baby bites. Learned the hard way that it's a bad idea to get chicken katzu at Ginza as the crispies get inside my lip and burn my stitches. Do I even have stitches there? Sure feels like it.

Recovery

From the hospital, we went to the CVS where Mike waited for my Rx's as I called my friend Lauryn, who just so happens to work upstairs. Unfortunately, she was out of the office. I realized that Mike had taken a pic on my phone and emailed it out to A, Casey, Shaka and Adam G to let them know I survived. I responded to emails for a while, Mike got the goods, then we went to pick up pineapple juice and frozen peas. I dozed off in the car and found myself feeling just fine when we got home. Mike also bought me Dippin Dots, root beer, Quik and multiple red flavors of Jello. I'm the luckiest girl ever.

The day was spent with peas on my face and me having a hard time opening my mouth. I didn't sleep much at all and felt pretty good with the exception that my mouth. Clearly, the anesthesia hadn't worn off. I was nervous that I lost all feeling in my lower lip and tongue, but that wore off eventually as well. I received two deliveries of flowers from Mike's aunt and uncle. They're spectacular.

They also sent me frozen hot chocolate mix from Serendipity. Divine, although I haven't eaten it yet. Mike made the most amazing mashed potatoes ever, but I have joker mouth (the corners are super cracked) and it's more difficult to eat because of that then because my jaw hurts. I've also have a renewed love for pudding. I'm mortified that I'm going to break my dissolvable stitches, particularly from my evil tooth because it was so far back onto the roof of my mouth, my tongue naturally lays there (as opposed to obsessively touching it, as you would think - I'm doing pretty good with that).

My pain killers are good for just that, killing the pain, and making me fall asleep if I put my mind to it. I really thought I'd be in lala land somewhere. I've been more lucid than I usually am in my typical daily life. I've only taken 3 so far. Because I took a sweet nap after my first oxycodone, I couldn't fall asleep until 2 last night. 

Then I was up at 7am. I ate more mashed potatoes, which hurt. Again, because of the joker mouth. All the Vaseline in the world isn't making it any better either. I could actually feel where my teeth were gone and my stitches were throbbing. I took my antibiotics and another pain killer, grabbed more frozen peas and slept another 3 hours. The rest of my day was spent swollen (one side is more swollen than the other), talking to my parents, writing and not wearing pants. Mike came home with a new toothbrush for me and we took a nap which involved him holding a pack of peas on my face. I woke up in more pain but held out until I had to take my next round of antibiotics before taking another pain killer. Shaka and his bro came by to borrow my car and made me laugh, which hurts. Mike went to work to oversee the first night of DJ action at the space (there's a big anti-Valentine's Day party tomorrow on top of that) and I watched 3 episodes of Freaks and Geeks, an episode of Confessions of a Call Girl (love sexy Rose! that's a Dr Who reference for those of you who don't know) and catching up on this. 

Holding out one more hour before my next round of pills...

All Gone!

After being overly dramatic for the past few weeks, the surgery was a piece of cake. There was enough anxiety going on thanks to shit insurance, but thanks to the laughing gas, I had a blast. I freaked a bit when I went into the operating room. The nurse hooked me up to heart monitors, which made me focus on staying calm. I got my heart to stop racing at 96BPM to an average of 74. It immediately jumped when the surgeon's assistant (it's a teaching hospital, so I'm assuming he's fresh out of dental school), couldn't find the right button to turn on the monitor hooked to my finger. 

I realized that they were playing Justin Timberlake in the operating room as they began to gas me. I found this quietly hilarious and really, really odd. Then the surgeon came in, just in time, because the other dude (who had nice glasses but seemed more nervous than me) was about to do my IV. The IV is what has been freaking me out the most, probably just because I've never had one before. The surgeon told me it would feel like a mosquito bite, in which I replied he was a liar. He said this was the worst thing I'd feel, I tried not to giggle and then told everyone good luck and that I'll see them later. 

Next thing I know, Mike is sitting in front of me, trying not to laugh. Probably because I had zero clue of what was going on. He called my folks and I was under the impression that I was really funny, although I couldn't see myself. This is what I looked like:

The surgery lasted a little more than a half hour. It took about 15 minutes to come to and was out of there in about another 20 minutes. 

Adios Teeth

My final solid, chewable meal was a turkey burger with mozzarella and sweet potato fries at Trident. Mike bought me a bunch of magazines and Freaks and Geeks upon Jeannie's recommendation. A few days ago, he stocked the fridge and cabinets with polenta, mashed potatoes, pastina, pudding, lots of Odwalla drinks (Protein Monster!) and ice cream. I was kinda peeved that he bought organic ice cream from Whole Foods, not Ben & Jerry's (mint chocolate cookie, to be exact). He's been awesome.

The morning of the surgery, I woke up from a strange dream where I decided to drink some 7-Up and therefore fucked up my chances of being sedated for surgery. But I really, really had to have 7-Up. Couldn't tell you the last time I even saw a 7-Up. Does it even exist anymore? Also dreamt that Mike gave me a ring before surgery, only it was a ring with a giant cuckoo clock on it. Wonder what that means (a bit expectant, no)? 

When I went by the store to say ciao to the gang, Casey handed off this silly headband that found its way into my car that I had given her last week when she was on her death bed. It's now our official miracle worker that will continue to be passed amongst us to make things better. By the way, it's black and silver lame and pretty awful.

Then I brushed my teeth for the last time. Oh evil tooth, how I will not miss you. 

Sage Words Of Advice

My friend Matthew studies homeopathy and I asked him for suggestions for anything to help minimize swelling and help with healing. He listed a bunch of fruits, which I broke down to just pineapple juice, to help swelling. When I used to make skate videos for international beverage companies, all the poor, uninsured skaters would drink tons of pineapple juice to help minimize swelling, bruising and sprains. He also suggested going to Teavana and getting a mix of roobois and marigold tea to promote healing. I felt like an asshole when I said roy-boy to a co-worker of mine and she indirectly corrected me.

Last night, Mike and I went to Tangierino in Charlestown (which is quite lovely) to celebrate the relaunch of Stuff (formerly Stuff @ Night), which I styled the cover story. Hung out with some of my favorite girls in town and Mike looked like a total stud, surrounded by a ton of beautiful women and my other boyfriend, Sam. A friend of a friend, the daughter of a dentist, made some recommendations that included frozen chips of chicken broth for protein and frozen vegetables in a knee sock to tie around my head. That brought on great laughter and everyone dying to see me with a sock tied around my head.

Denied, Denied, Denied

Well, after all that drama yesterday, what shows up in the mail? A letter from Doral (you would think I would've known how to spell the name of my former dental insurance, but the name has never once been printed on anything I've ever seen). All of my extractions were denied because I was ineligible for the insurance coverage. Wouldn't it be better to send me a letter beforehand telling me I no longer have fucking dental than send me a denial of my surgery 2 days beforehand. Luckily, this wasn't a shocker but it still infuriates me.

Un-F-ing-Believable

I have a strange work schedule that's constantly in flux depending on what project I'm working on. For the most part, Sundays are the new Saturdays, but Mondays are still Mondays. If I can get my ass in gear the night before, I don't have to worry about getting my 10am (or even noon) posts up on New Brahmin. I was on my A-game this week and decided to sleep in come Monday morning since it's also Mike's day off. But then the phone rang.

It was the oral surgeon's office. I figured they were just confirming my surgery. Well, yes, but apparently I no longer have dental insurance. I spend the next hour or so of my life trying not to scream at every person I speak to at Commonwealth Connector, which is the program that hooks non-insured Mass residents with affordable health insurance, and Network Health, my insurance company.

Some background: In November I received a notice saying that because I earned $X in 2007 and am something like 116% above the poverty level, I am not longer eligible for my insurance. WTF, right? Isn't it their job to make sure that everyone in MA has health insurance since it's a law? Anyway, I appealed this and held my breath for about a month and didn't say anything to anyone. Eventually, post-New Years, I received a letter from Commonwealth Connector saying "congratulations, you're in our system!" along with a new insurance card from Network. I noticed that my pricing was much higher on the card but sorta figured, whatever, I'll deal with it later. Then I got a bill.

Back to the story: OK, no worries, still got insurance, right? Well, yes, health insurance. Apparently, when my insurance was changed over by the state, going from practically no premium to $110, my plan no longer includes dental. No one told me this and I'm sure the finger pointing just goes back to me for not researching any changes in my plan. As great of a program CommConnector is for people who couldn't access affordable healthcare (read: actual poor people, not freelancers and entrepreneurs like myself), the more you pay, the less you get, which is a completely ass-backwards system. But that's the insurance business for you. Some options were recommended, none of which applied to my situation. That situation being that I'm having fucking 8 teeth pulled in 3 days. 

Got an estimate from the surgeon's office and will have to pay in cash because I refuse to reschedule the surgery. I was under the impression that this would be at least a $6000 undertaking but it was far less (yet still significant). Luckily, I'm very fortunate and have been spotted the fee, hoping that the claim form I get in return will bring a nice refund check once I get this insurance shit straight. This whole conundrum ruined my day and put me in the most horrible mood possible.

Bangin'

Totally unrelated to braces - FINALLY got my hair did today. I seriously had a good 2" of roots. So I went a bit more "honey" and got bangs. Had to do something with the fivehead and was looking for something different. May have went end of September/early October the last time I got my hair done. The response has been beyond belief and yes, that is Ghostface serving pancakes in the background. It's possibly the most appropriate hip hop poster to have in your kitchen, thank you very much. I mean, the man's in a Versace robe. What more can you ask for?! 

Besides the fact that my nose looks HUGE, I'm digging it. As is Mike, which is pretty important. As well as my friends, who are now referring to me as "New Bangs" so I might change my site New Brahmin to that. At least momentarily. Mike says this is the second best haircut ever (in the past 6 years) - my license being the best cut ever (totally cute, but I think this one takes it to a different level). 

Anyway - about 3 1/2 weeks until surgery. Mike is planning on stocking up on soup from Persephone (I'm requesting the amazing butternut squash sans seeds), ice cream (mint oreo, preferably), Odwalla protein drinks and pastina. So basically, my diet + ice cream on the regular. 

Our 1 year anniversary of the Achilles Project is the day after my surgery (no clue if we're doing anything for that), but just learned of some details for V-Day, which I'm surely not participating in since I'll be swollen in the face. But so far I have C and JV coming over to watch movies and feed me ice cream, and I only hope that A will come too. I'm a lucky girl!

P.S. Anyone who clicks on the Ghostface link, I chose that just because of the blogs name.

Give Me A Couple Months...

From Ignored Prayers. Fair warning, they're extremely offensive to those of you who are easily offended. And lack any sense of humor. Or are respectable adults, unlike myself.

P.S. I'm totally making a science project display for my braces party.

B-Day

They're prying teeth out of my jaw in about 4 weeks now, but of course I forgot to tell that to anyone who really needed to know, i.e. the ortho. As if there wasn't enough going on on New Year's Eve Day (along with the anticipation of what became a glorious and epic night), I get a random phone call from the lovely office manager at the ortho. She thought that I had gone for surgery the day I went for the consultation and wanted to get me in asap to get spacers for the premolars that are peacing out. 

Sidebar: My tongue immediately went to my top right teeth (opposite of the evil tooth), where I had a spacer (to prevent evil teeth) when I had my baby teeth pulled when I was little. I had it for some time, what felt like eternity because I must've been 8-ish. All I can remember is that it was loose and I would jiggle it all day. Doubt that any (I'm getting 4, I believe) will have time to get loose this round. I wonder if this was added in to the estimated overall cost the ortho gave me (doubt it). I'm going to drive myself mad with all these holes in my mouth.

Ah, back to my point. The dates have been set! Spacers go in February 24th. And instead of going to Chicago for my dear, dear friend Caroline's birthday, which is March 3rd, I will be in the ortho's chair for 3 hours getting braces. Mike's reaction: "Finally!" Mine: I cannot believe I'm really going through with this.