 Misc. Plans |
|
I have been going "running" to prepare myself for the 5K in November. I love my Supernovas, and I can do five whole minutes without falling down and dying now, so I'm proud of that. Yoga continues to be somewhat of a fixture in the evenings, and I surprised myself by doing tree pose, which is harder than it looks, at least for me, without careening towards either side. Boat Pose consistently makes my entire body convulse in pain, but I suspect it's because I have the strength of a flaccid fettucine noodle in my abs. I still cannot om without smirking, so instead I just breathe deeply during the omming. And I am now the master of crane pose! (Kidding.) I had a three hour dentist appointment on Monday that cost me $250, during which the dentist did unimaginable measurements and tests on my jaw, including smearing gel on my jaw joint and listening to it open and close through some kind of doppler machine, making me bite down on purple wax, smearing my teeth with dye to see where they touch when I bite, taking 360 degree x-rays, and instructing me to "tap tap, tap tap" about a thousand times so he could look, feel, and listen. For the majority of this poking and prodding, I was practically inverted, so I started to feel kind of drunk. He was the most thorough doctor I have ever seen, showing me skull models and teeth moldings and posters and diagrams and searching my chin for scars to determine when I might have fallen and hurt my jaw. It was all very mesmerizing and the long and short of it all is that some kind of disc in my right joint is displaced, will forever be displaced, and will continue to fuck up my bite and joint until the end of time. Hence, a splint. A nighttime split will cost $1450 but will create the perfect bite while I sleep, the time when people do 90% of their clenching and grinding, taking the pressure off of my joint and slowing the progression of the problem. Clench and grind? Me? Ha! When we went over the ten pages of tests and questionnaires I filled out prior to the appointment, he told me that I tested a 6.5 out of 10 on the stress test even though I rated my stress level at a 2 or 3, which I guess he figured out was a blatant lie. J. hasn't diagnosed me as a stress addict for nothing. He basically ruled out surgery or braces, and I practically leapt across his desk and kissed him for that. A splint I can deal with. Surgery and braces I CANNOT. I've decided to replace the bedroom berber carpet once and for all with ceramic tile. The animals have now succeeded in ripping up the carpet where it meets the tile in the hall in two out of the three bedrooms, and I just cannot abide it anymore. I mean, WHO LIVES LIKE THIS?  It's going to cost an assload, but I figure it will be worth it to live in a house that can actually have clean floors (because no amount of vacuuming EVER gets up the hair in the carpet, and that's just gross) and floors that are indestructible to the monsters who inhabit my dwelling. By some miracle, I remembered the name of the guy at the flooring store who dealt with the account when we replaced the living room carpet, and I told him I would only go with their store if the same guy did it, because he did such a great job, and he said that guy was in his office as we spoke. He was like, "Oh yeah, we did your living room. Y'all were getting married! How was the wedding?" Sigh. "Actually, we didn't get married." "Oh no!" Pat response: "It's for the best." "Is he still living there?" "Jesus! No." FINALLY he dropped it. (Two ladies on the 2nd floor yesterday asked me about the wedding. I was like, "Um, no." They were like, "News takes a long time to travel down to the second floor!" I was like, "You see me all the time!" CHRIST!) Anyway, so I think I'll have him come out and do an estimate soon. I have no idea if I can really afford it but desperate times call for desperate measures. I continue to watch The O.C., primarily because I love Seth and I even love his parents. There, I said it. I think Peter Gallagher is funny as his dad, and I am in love with his wife's hair and her slighly crooked eye. I keep wanting to like Mischa Barton, but something about her is just not gelling with me. But I still like it. And QE remains a staple. And I'm just not sure what my thoughts are on the new season. I am overwhelmed by the EW issue highlighting all of the new shows. I saw Happy Accidents and Real Women Have Curves, both of which I liked, although H.A. gave me kind of a headache. But Marisa Tomei and Vincent D'Onofrio were both so good that I enjoyed it anyway. I got new bookcases! They are a lot smaller than my old ones, but I could not in good conscience pass up the sale at Target (marked down from $49.99 to $29 -- when does that happen??) so I bought them and set them up and they make me happy.
After
2002: None
2001: 2000: None
1999:
© Copyright 2003 elb |
|
