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.