| (no subject) |
[Mar. 29th, 2006|12:11 pm] |
this is my new home
this is our phone book
this is me at work today
this is a collage i made
this is us
this is what our room really looks like
the end. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 15th, 2006|02:57 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | akron family/angels of light | ] |
I never use this thing anymore but I guess now would be a good time to update anyone that's interested.
I was pretty much completely impoverished and unemployed for the first two months I was in BOsotn/JP, but finally found a job and it was worth the wait, its pretty much a dream job. I now work at Fresh Copy, a tiny independently owned photocopy store in JP. Just me and one other dude work here, so we split the hours the store is open a week and each work alone. I sit around behind a desk, listen to music, and get to mess around with the copy machine, scanner, and all that junk. When i want to go get food or go do something i lock the door and put up one of those "back in 5 minute" signs.
About a month or more ago it got to the point where I did not have enough money to my name to buy a single pack of cigarettes, so Marc got me some rolling tobacco and some little filters and I've been smoking rolled ciggeretes ever since and now I only have a few everyday instead of like 20.
Oh, and most importantly, I will be moving in with Marc on April 1st. Both of us are only earning enough money to barely make the rent and I stay over there almost every night anyways, so we've decided to move in together, making our rent only 225/each a month. Hopefully now we can both actually save a little money and be able to eat. It seems like a pretty intense idea but I know that if anyone can manage to share a tiny tiny room it would be us, so I'm pretty excited. One of the other roomate's, Ryan, girlfriend is also moving in in may. At that point there will be 8 of us in the house, but I'm predicting a pretty awesome summer.
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 28th, 2005|04:52 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  cheerful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | the warmers - occupation fish | ] |
life change and move number 5 kazillion.
so i'm moving again for i think the 6th time since i left boston in may. But ALAS, after nearly 8 months in New Hampshire I am triumphantly and independently making a return to Boston. After waitressing at stupid Buckhorns for a little over a month I have enough money saved to pay first months rent and a little extra to hold me over until I find a job there. Im going to be moving in with three girls that go to the museum school at 308 centre st. and couldnt be more excited. I found it through craigslist which can make things really awkward, but I've hung out over there for a little bit with two of the girls twice now and feel pretty great about it. They seem awesome, we can smoke in the apt. (which is good and bad), amazing living room and kitchen, huge back porch, and my room is just the right size, and the same amazing yellow color that my room at winter st. was ( the one that kyle stole! ). Its only 400/month and the only utility bill is electric since the heat is electric, and we get to steal free wireless connections from the neighbors. oh oh, and no tv, which i'm also psyched about. Its in Jamaica Plain near that 7-11, sort of in a weird area, closest to the stonneybrook T stop, but I'm into it. I've been dying to live in the ghetto and get out of awful fenway and other rich kid infested areas with no personality. AND! they have two cats, I wish I could bring my mom's but the other two will suffice. Im going to miss the big open spaces of new hampshire and my car, and many amazing people, but its time i get out of here and start over again, financially independent of my parents. The day I accepted a dime of their money was the day I sold my sole to the devil. Hopefully I can find a job in JP or somewhere nearby. I have an interview at a fancy tea room restaurant for waitressing, which might be pretty awesome.
Friday is my last day at the hellhole truckstop that i spent literally 100's of hours at to get out of here, but im glad i did. I worked on Christmas Eve and Christmas day, so the holiday sort of came and went without me having too much time to let it get to me. As usual the only conclusion is that my family is awkward and strange. I didnt get much at all from my parents, and as usual my dad gave me awkward gifts that he had gotten but didnt want or things he found around the house, but i dont care, my parents have had to fork out enough money for me the past couple years anyways and I try to avoid having too much of a connection or dependency on STUFF or possessions because it disgusts me. I hope my extreme poverty in the fall has not made me too spiteful but rather opened my eyes. Putting possessions, money, or anything of the sort in priorety leaves a certain lacking that I cant avoid. As I moved from place to place my stuff got more and more scattered and living on the couch for most of the time at my moms with no stuff, made me realize i dont really need any of it and even felt a lot happier without it. I guess maybe I'm going through some sort of a minimilistic or simplicity phase as a reaction to everything that disgusts me about this country and a new outlook for happiness i guess. I like listening to only Lo-Fi music, and records, and reading, and never watching tv, and avoiding fast food. In simplicity I've found a little bit of solace and clarity, which is just what a spazz like myself needs.
Colby and I decided to endulge in a mini adventure late on christmas night and found ourselves at buckhorns of all places, since nothing else was open. We talked about how strange and comforting it is that we've been friends for so long. I've sort of given up on keeping in contact with a lot of people for home or from high school or some other time, in realizing that I've spread myself far too thin in the past. Im indulging in the present and plan to keep it that way and to surround myself with the people that are important to me now and the ones making an equal amount of effort. I spent the afternoon/evening with Marc a couple days ago and had an amazing time. I guess it turns out it doesnt really matter if we're both in new hampshire or hanging out in boston, it turns out i dont really ever care where I am with him or what we're doing but just that we can spend that time together. We drove around in the mini blizzard a little bit and out to the beach, although it stopped snowing while we were there. And he finally saw my mom's place and met my brother and my cat, and we went to his house, where his cute family was being all holiday like. We decorated a gingerbread house (which i dont think i've ever done) and listened to music and just layed around talking for a while. And im pretty excited for liza, colby, sean, and logan and i hanging out tonight since i dont think we've all been in the same room together for literally years. And mike's birthday party tomorrow night should be an event to remember, or maybe just an awkward combination of people from high school and alcohol, we'll see. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 4th, 2005|02:55 am] |
| [ | music |
| | young marble giants | ] |
update: my life is literal hell right now, but should only be for the next few weeks. I've started my 5th job ive had since my return to nh in the hopes of earning enough money in the next month to get back to boston by january. Which means around 45 hours of waitressing a week at a god damn truck stop restaurant, Truck Stops of America, that is. The people are sad and think they deserve to be. They're scarred, hunched over, seaminly melting, and are blatant reminders of the effects of long term smoking, although i admit i dont mind the luxury of being able to smoke anywhere on the premisis. Everyone has as many kids as they do brown spots between their teeth, most of whom spend a whole shift sitting around watching their parents work, getting babysat by dillusional and lonely truckers. The younger girls seem just as satisfied in the life as the older ones, all the girls my age taking about their babies they had to leave at home, and lactating during work. Everyone there seems to expect me to also be a mother by default, or a high school cheerleader skipping class to work there. But I've officially made it through the first week. Starting at 7am, the shift sorta goes by fast, and when i get out its as if it never happened since im unfamiliar with that time of day anyways. I can just run out to my car afterwards, breathe a sigh of releif when i get inside, put a cd on, and leave it all behind.
Music's very important in situations like these, makes me feel like i'm immediately gaining control over my life somehow, immediately brings you to another place. lately i just want to listen to pavement all the time and feel that lacadaysical apathy, or daniele johnston or ryhmodee, getting in that morous simplicity and the pleasant and motivating simplicity. I get really anxious thinking about being at my moms house, not having what i want on the walls, not being able to listen to my music all the time, or to be in a room without a tv on, or to not feel that sense of regretion. Its the drives to and from work and school that make me feel like im getting back something of mine thats been taken away. drives always make me feel better. during some maniac phase of mine i decided i should do a series of drawings called 'drawings at 80mph' since its all i could think about doing on long trips.
In between working 6 days a week and my 2 classes i manage to make it down to boston every week or so to see marc, its a nice retreat from the monotony catching up to me here. i like sitting around drinking wine and watching good movies instead of something featuring snoopdog, i feel comfortable there and like being able to fall asleep mumbling to someone and waking up early just to lay there listening to calvin johnson and eating free bakery food for a few hours. Its been a little tricky living in different states, but he makes me feel quite content, and thats all i need right now. Hopefully ill be looking at a place in brookline village this week. Its a sublet in a big house including your own bedroom and a small studio, along with the two others used by the other roomates. ah, itd be awesome if that place turns out to be as great as it sounds, or i can find a place like it where i can focus on doing a lot more art work and hopefully have a somewhat steady job. even begining to seriously focus on becoming self sufficient and get rid of any financial dependancy on my parents makes me feel so much better. And I cant wait to actually not go to school next semester. i think i have the ability to educate myself in things im excited about now and i cant wait to do it. I think this is just what i need. plus, i dont belong in nh for this long, i feel something brewing inside me like i did in high school,although i know i will miss many many people once i do go.
and theres nothing better than staring straight up from underneath a tree. This was the only tree left on court st that still had leaves on it at one point and it would battle the cold for weeks more.
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| haHA |
[Nov. 26th, 2005|12:55 am] |
> Workers at Third U.S. Starbucks Go Union -- Baristas Demand Guaranteed Work Hours
New York, NY- 25 Starbucks baristas and supporters wearing union pins and
hats surrounded the store manager at the Union Square location in Manhattan
tonight to announce their membership in the IWW Starbucks Workers Union
(www.starbucksunion.org). The workers, joined by union baristas from two
other New York Starbucks stores, demanded a guaranteed minimum of 30 hours
of work per week and an end to Starbucks' unlawful anti-union campaign.
The Union will assail Starbucks with a wide array of actions until the
demands are met.
Starbucks, known for inundating neighborhoods with its stores,
is an extremely profitable company. On November 17, the company
announced that quarterly earnings had jumped 21% to $124 million.
Chairman Howard Schultz who also owns the Seattle Supersonics is
doing well too with an estimated net worth of $700 million.
( Read more... ) |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 12th, 2005|03:11 pm] |
tired. im very tired. tired of looking for some purpose. im tired of coming up with money making schemes. im tired of job interviews that dont go anywhere. im tired of filling out so many applications that i dont recognize my own name anymore. im tired of dissapointing my parents. and im tired of trying to explain why. as the days pass the winds get angrier, the temperature drops, the days get shorter, and being told that foleage and pumpkins are a consolation leaves me tired and sick. my throat hurts, my chest feels heavy, my head is stuffed, and my nose is the only one tryig to run away.
the last time i had a real job was somewhere around the middle of august. somehow ive scraped by in those two months with trades, selling textbooks, working odd craigslist jobs, and a very short lived carreer at bagelworks. I wore a bow tie and a cumberbun and walked through crowds of excentric, wealthy, elderly harvard graduates offering tartar on a crispy wonton. me and the other 30 or so workers glidded through an enormous banquet hall in the JFK library and served 300 people wine, dinner, and desert in under 10 minutes, keeping in mind 30 allergies, 20 vegiterians, and a handful of kosher meals. At times I'd snap out of my role and look out at the crowd and become aware of what i was wearing, the amount of brainpower contained in that room, and that uncomfortable out of body feeling when i looked over at the head of the harvard class of 1960 standing poised behind the podium, his waving arms governing the laughter and applause with a glass wall stretching along infinitely behind him, exposing the boston city skyline. For once the city looked beautiful, for once it seemed to have some inherent importance, but i still did not. "These are some very important people here, they graduated from Harvard before any of us were born, and are used to nothing less than fine dining". serve on the right, pick up from the left, women first, counter clock-wise, pour the wine slowly, always show the label, be invisible but available. I was intreged by their conversation and big white hair, but grew spiteful as we took more and more measures to make the experience appear to be exsessively fancy, going out of our way to follow those unspoken fine dining rules, hiding our middle and lower class lives behind tuxedos, make-up and pin-backed hair, surpressing anything natural for the sake of exorbidant luxury. Seeing this wealth juxtaposed with 30 people so desperate for money that they allowed different companies to ship them all over the city, to work long hard hours and be fed like cattle in the backroom while the man with a cell phone wrapped around his ear yells "settle down people, this is not a meal, its just something to hold you over, we have to still feed the other half of you." meanwhile we all stand around the kitchen counters scooping dried out pasta out of a big aluminum tin with a disposable cup, but in all our poverty we stand there surrounded by the finer things in life. Conversations about past lives lost, prominent positions left at a home country, float around the room along with a disposable cup and a 1liter bottle of coke to share. To see such an imbalance resource and wealth and such unnecessary excess makes me sick to my stomach. I dont think ill ever know how to be anything else but broke. I cant even fathom wealth or anything for that matter after these past two peniless months have left me insanely spiteful with no money for food, clothes, cold medicine, socks, new shoes, or anything.
A week before the harvard reunion I was asked to come serve at a function in the back bay area of boston. A man on the phone told me to go to an address, ring a buzzer, go down one story on the elevator, walk down the hallway and open door 001. for some reason it never crossed my mind at the time that this was a little dangerous. I found myself in a fancy bachelor pad underneath storrow drive in the arms of an overzealous jewish woman fighting the effects of aging in a most deplorable manner. "I'm David's mothaaaah'! welcome to his biithday paahty". oh god, i thought to myself, im probably going to be wearing a chucky cheese outfitt in a second. But no, david did infact turn out to be a whinny rich jewish mamma's boy celebrating his 30th birthday. It was obvious after time passed and i pretended to be useful and wished i were invisible in this strangers crowded kitchen, that little david thought his little party was going to be so fancy that he could impress his friends and family by having some girl (the help) walk around serving drinks and chips. "no no no david, she's not going to be doing that, she needs to help me put this challa in the oven". he walks away surpressing a whine and she turns to me and says "well honey this is just great, the other person we had was a mexican, i couldnt talk to her at all, she didnt speak english, can you believe it, well you'll be better." "Hey look aunty shirley this is our new help, sydney, isnt she nice looking". "oh yes, oh yes, very nice choice." I snuck out for one cigarette in the 6 hours i was there and talked to auntie sara on the back deck while grandma drunkenly danced the cha cha with little david in the living room downstairs. We sat on opposite sides of the deck , me with my camel light and her with her marlboro 100's and i hoped that this meant she was as dissapointed with life as i was. I told her I was from NH and she tried relating to me by telling me all about her winter ski home up north and her summer home on lake winnepasaki and her favorite boutique in portsmouth. After doing the last two loads of dishes cleaning the kitchen, preparing more food to be served later, little david sent me on my way with 60dollars and high hopes of maybe having the luxury of being his housekeeper. "can you do that for my boys, hu, can you do their wash, they dont know these things you know, and you know, you speak english, could you do that for my boys."
Today Im trying to get rid of this cold and recover all my missing food from this god forsaken house. But i've been offered a whole sleu of shit jobs, and now i get to try and decide which one will suck the least..book market, sleizy temporary discount bookstore that sweeps through small towns taking over smaller bookstores, some hoggie shop downtown where id make sandwhiches and take turns delivering with a 300 pound black man with a pick in his hair, waitressing at the sleizy Asia restaurant downtown, hoping to make over min. wage with tips from townies, or me & ollies which is a long drive to earn 7dollars an hour and only get 15-20hours a week. atleast ill get that check from the harvard banquet tomorrow and atleast i've been able to escape to boston on the weekends to stay with marc and wake up warm, not alone, and to an array of breakfast pastries from the bakery he works at. and we can hide out in the house all day on rainy days and drink wine and tea and share books and movies and do projects together. and during the week i hide in my room in this strange little house and draw, and go to class two days a week, and always go and get coffee after philosophy with ryan and christina, bother the boys, go on adventures with bob, and usually attend some portsmouth event on tuesday night. All in all things could be worse, but i miss boston terribly and cant shake this guilt of being so unproductive, and still having no drive to do much of anything. i hate that the only option seems to be to force myslef into the monotony of a steady dead-end job and use my free time to explore things im actually interested, but i can feel something building and am hoping im on the verge of something. |
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| adaptation |
[Sep. 1st, 2005|04:24 am] |
worried. tired. addicted. jobless. scared.
soar throat. cant stop. restless. anxious. jittery.
english class. philosophy class. stuffy. hot. my brain is alive again. but i feel cold.
lost faces of high school in every corner. pockets of the past. dazed. cigarette. sore. apathetic.
change is hard to notice with my head in the clouds. sky. sun. rain. clouds. windsheildwipers. music.
yesterdays gone and tomorrow will soon be old news. only now remains. ten million speeding colliding thoughts. thoughts thought laying on cold damp pavement. x marks the spot. eyes on the sky hands folded into hands calmed by highway traffic. machines zooming and chugging by, perpelled by a monotone metallic hum, and i, stagnant, skin,nerves,muscle,ticking beat, find solace. summer has come and gone and we walk the bridge and back. suspended in time, suspended over angry ocean currents. suspended between our hometown and the future, and i pray to stay suspended. summer is over and time cant stand still. tapping foot. scratchy cigarette. dripping sweat and tender glances.
another season begins. people scatter and i float. happy to see that people are people everywhere. pompous mammals, sprawling, progressive, and lost. but floating has lost its romanticism. floating in and out of other lives and communities i feel isolated again. isolated in a hometown with a new face, feeling like a trespasser. landmarks so full with peices of now foreign pasts that they all seem to blend together. but peices of me hide in pockets of towns and cities and in pockets of yours, and this is where i find comfort.
tonight.last night at my little home on winter street. dirty. smelly. filled with testosterone and bugs. paradise. returned too late and ive never seen it look so calm. everyone's asleep. slidding door jammed. keys. keys. but they are his keys now and his room now. locked out. hopeless knocking and i hesitate to continue, realizing its their home now. and now is all there is. a peice of me will stay there in a nook and i keep peices of you in pockets hoping you will come back. but our surreal world is lost somewhere between now and the past. i miss how powerful and enormous we made each other. now im too small to defend myself. i feel too old and i lost the power to read minds. i turn around and drive away, daydreaming about natural disasters. the end of the world. the irony of the flood. pockets forming in a forced superdome society. anarchy let loose in southern communities. 'the greatest country in the world' doesnt look so great anymore.
soon enough tomorrow will be now and all my things will ride in bob's truck to my next home on court street. clutter. stuff. books. over bumps, holes, pavement, and one mile will never seem so far. but float on. acquired things and an acquired perspective. adaptation sets in. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 13th, 2005|03:29 pm] |
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this has been an epic summer. a selfish summer. a well-traveled summer. a hot sweaty summer. a beautiful summer. after a stressfull and insanity inducing school year nothing could have saved me but these wide open spaces. ive found some hope again at the bottom of lakes, the tops of mountains, three amazing roomates, and one small town. this summer ive found myself quite content in the same town i was so desperate to run away from two years ago and so ive decided to stay. im defering from stupid AIB for a semester. ill be moving into a cute old house on court street in september with a great backyard. i guess this makes me an art school drop out, but im okay with that. im gunna work, save money, get serious about some projects, and take two classes at unh. two non-art classes. ill miss boston, but ill still have my car and surely be down there all the time. the summer's almost over but its wrapping up quite nicely. thomas will be here for the day/maybe night tomorrow, monday night i leave for NYC to see cassie for the last time before she goes to london for the fall semester and get back on wednesday. bob returns from england friday and i think cutter moves in that day too. and sunday to tuesday bobbie will be gracing nh with her presence. that's all for now. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 6th, 2005|02:00 pm] |
im always too lazy to actually update or anything so im just gunna put up some pictures from my trip to DC
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| congratulations |
[Aug. 2nd, 2005|11:03 pm] |
its your lucky day, i finally got a new phone. same number 969 3946.
and ive made it back alive from an epic trip to DC |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 26th, 2005|01:21 pm] |
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mmm yep, so today i am officially 20 years old. the only things on my agenda are to go buy myself a kiddie pool and sit in it all day eating an enormous hot fudge sundae till my enormous friends arrive and wonder why im sunbured and covered in chocolate. |
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| penny mystery |
[Jul. 24th, 2005|05:26 pm] |
well nice knowing you all. this is my goodbye, i swallowed a penny and am going to die an embarrasing death like i always knew would happen. try not to be ashamed.
so yeah, thats right, i swallowed a penny and cant come up with a good reason why. randy keeps telling me i need to seek medical attention since i think its lodged in my throat. so instead i googled penny swallowing and found tons of websites telling parents what to do when their idiot babies eat pennies. well this idiot right here is hoping that the penny was made before 1982. in the event that the penny makes it through my throat and into my stomache then the absurd amount of zinc in pennies since 1982 will react with stomach acid and create something thats a lot like battery acid leading to ulcers or worse. so who knows. maybe ill choke on it in my sleep tonight or maybe my stomach will explode by tomorrow. all i know is that this officially tops all of the other stupid things ive done especially days before i turn 20 and become a 'real adult'. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 7th, 2005|11:32 pm] |
hasta luego usa.
im off on my adventure of epic proportions with bobbie.
class: world travelers.
email me with your address and ill send you a postcard |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 4th, 2005|02:03 pm] |
im officially totally cut off from the rest of the world now. at the house with no internet, tv, home phone, and now no cell phone. dont ask how, but it fell in the toilet this weekend. if you want to get ahold of me just leave a message on my cell phone and ill check the voicemail periodically and call people back till i get a new one or something.
oh yeah...
im leaving for london this friday night to meet up with bobbie and go to amsterdam, ireland, and england.
i have 5 dollars in my account and 40 in my wallet.
i owe my mom 800 dollars for the ticket.
i owe bobbie a large sum of money for the hostels and travel.
i was supposed to pay my rent for the summer but had to get help from my parents.
the swat team came to my neighbors house last week.
i work at a desolate restaurant at the holiday inn. i work with a pervert cook who repeatedly sends my heart aflutter begging for a date with the promise of stolen boxed wine, Guzel the russian busser who speaks no english and spoken to like she's hellen keller, a bitter, tempermental, southern bartender that migrated north on her Harley to "run away from a man", and a retired fisherman turned dishwasher with stubby fingers, a limp, and an eye on Guzel.
i have yet to recieve a pay check from them.
when im not working i hang out with the housemates, jump off bridges, swim, bbq, go on day trips, and chase skunks around the backyard.
i feel extremely guilty about going on this trip considering my financial situation, but ill just have to deal with that when i get back.
i still dont know where im going to live in september
and still dont know if im going to take the semester off or not.
but despite all this its been one of the best summers in a while. i love nh and rarely think about boston besides the people, and the house and its inhabitants are the greatest. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 30th, 2005|03:50 pm] |
BBQ tomorrow at the winter st. house on friday (tomorrow)
undecided time, i guess late afternoon
that guy will be there and maybe other special guests cassie, stephen, and kyle scofield
everyone welcome, especially those with 40oz's
dudes bring your meat, girls bring your buns
call me if you need directions, but mainly bring anything containing meat, explosives, chips, or malt liquor |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 3rd, 2005|11:52 am] |
dear inter-nerds,
im moved over to the house, its amazing. everything went smoothly, it turns out we do actually have a backyard. stop by and check it out. looks like im not gunna have internet over the summer at the house, so if you want to find me ill probably be sitting in a pile of leaves or maybe mud. or you could just call my cell phone.
!hasta luego! |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 25th, 2005|03:19 pm] |
oh, also, i just bought the Groovie Ghoulies-running with big foot 7" on ebay for 2 bucks.
check out the video for one of the songs http://www.jowagiproductions.com/Ghoulies.html (just click watch under "running with big foot"). i thought it was pretty funny? |
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| dr. dentist |
[May. 25th, 2005|11:40 am] |
| [ | music |
| | this bike is a pipe bomb | ] |
teeth.
the odds are against them from the very beginning. giant hunks of calcium and other minerals of different shapes and sizes just jammed into your gums. the chances that you'll be born with all your teeth in the right place and that they'll stay that way while the rest of your head probably doubles in size, is as likely as winning the lottery. for the majority of us, this means that absurd amounts of metals, screws, and whatever other archaic tools the orthodontist feels like throwing in, will make our awkward years even more awkward. so this puts me at about 10 years old with a mouth full of metal, including one contraption with the sole purpose of "training the tongue". this was done with a row of sharp deadly "prongs" glued to the inside of the mouth aimed at my poor innocent misguided tongue. the prongs were so sharp, ripping my tongue apart every time i tried to to talk (butchering not only my tongue, but my speech), that i had to go back and have them "filed down".
so between the orthodontist and the routine dentist appointments i seemed to be spending more time lounging in a chair, wearing cheap sunglasses under a bright light than the whole cast of Baywatch. between the age of 8 and 13 i went through about 4 orthodontists because of moving. the first visit to each new doctor was grim, each one claiming that the work done by the last was insignificant since i was still growing. i put a stop to this charade when doctor number 4 suggested another two years of orthadontics with a barbaric surgery to boot. now that the nightmare of orthodontics was over, left with a nice set of unalined teeth, i was still haunted by the dreaded threat of CAViTIES. my dad did everything to prevent this, telling me horror stories of unanasthasized drilling, $1000s of dollars worth of bills, and constantly upgrading the already ridiculous electric toothbrush. my dad is so dedicated to the art of oral maintenance that he brushes and flosses in the kitchen, cutting down on the time between eating a meal and beginning the cleaning process. this tradition has carried over into my mom's house and i even found myself inadvertently plugging in my electric toothbrush to the kitchen outlet in my apartment. this horrifies and mystifies any visitors.
so there i was, 19 years old shifting around in the dentist chair feeling like a toddler with this paper napkin around my neck, all too reminiscent of a bib. i was forced to stare at the lame jungle poster taped to the ceiling or a framed picture of the dentist's dreadful son that i went to high school with. sometimes my eyes would wander staring at the hygienists coat covered in tacky teddy bears or in an awkward eye lock with the dentist. everything is white aside from all the promotional posters and the florescent lighting reminds me of a room that cats get put to sleep in or something. the doctors loom above, far surpassing anyones idea of a personal bubble, fingers jammed in your mouth pulling things in directions you never knew possible. after its all over the dentist and the hygienist discuss the situation in some sort of secret code. i finally hear a word i recognize, "cavity". cavity? what cavity?i dont have one? who has one? TWO!? next thing i knew i was at the receptionist scheduling three god damn appointments, one for each cavaty, then another cleaning. standing in the office days before thanksgiving this old hag asks me what i will be doing on may 15th at 9:45am, as if im supposed to know.
today, may 15th, i grudgingly returned to the dentist, snapped on the bib, adjusted the fake sunglasses and got my cavity filled. he fished around my gums with a needle, drilled and filled the tooth. it turned out to be a tolerable experience, except that i was due at my other appointment in 1/2 hour, numb lip and tongue leaving me with slurring speech and the threat of biting my lip off with out knowing. i sat in the next office, convincing this guy to increase my dosage of adderall in the least amount of words, hoping i wasnt drooling. |
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sydvicious716's journal
