This afternoon I had a dental appointment.
Once again, we discussed my sensitivity. (Oral. Not emotional.)
Once again, I sang the praises of my night guard.
Once again, the hygienist had to numb my mouth before cleaning my teeth (I tend to kick my legs and howl like a (very unsexy) werewolf when she touches my sensitive spots).
As she finished the polishing, the hygienist accidentally let her instrument (seriously, I tried to come up with a better word, but I’m sort of in a hurry over here) slip, and it buzzed over my face and bonked me on the back of my head, where it left a pea-sized dollop of orange-flavored polish. (I always choose the orange. I’m a real sucker for anything that smells or tastes like citrus. With that said, please know that I’m entirely unable to eat citrus fruits (or tomatoes, for that matter) because of the way my face responds.)
I’m burning a lemon-scented candle as I share all of this information with you. (Shout out to Tempe for the lemon-scented candle!)
Finally, we’re now in the home stretch of NaBloPoMo. And I know I’ve sort of sucked—what with the puking up of photographs and videos and whatnot. For that, I halfheartedly apologize and hang my head at a roughly thirty degree angle.
In semi-related news, today I received this:
It’s a phone and it’s made of corn and it’s the first phone I’ve ever had that holds a QWERTY keyboard.
In other words, I’ll now be a lot more active on Twitter—if you care about that sort of thing.
Specifically, I’ll be Momspotting. (This has absolutely nothing to do with blood, so you can turn off the wince.)
Personal message to Diana Ellis: I have your old phone number. In fact, within minutes of setting up my new phone’s voicemail, I received three messages for you. The first two calls were not pleasant. (I won’t go into specifics other than: One of my Christmas wishes is for you to get your credit back on track. And Heaven and Nature sing.) The third? Well, it’s past time for you to schedule your eye doctor appointment! (I don’t mind taking your messages, but I’m not going to set up your appointments, Diana. Call the eye doctor. You look pretty today. You’re welcome!) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
A few years ago, out of nowhere, my husband started getting “call your credit card company” messages for somebody named Darlene. When he finally broke down and called the company to tell them he was not Darlene, the woman he talked to said that Darlene has a long history of making up contact numbers. He finally had to change his cell phone number. I wonder who the poor sucker is now that is getting Darlene’s messages.
I am sort of jealous that you get to choose your polish flavor. My hygienist usually uses mint, but sometimes I get strawberry! Does being excited about that make me a dork? Of course it does.
A phone made of corn leaning against bananas which aren’t citrus because you and citrus don’t get along.
I got it.
I’ve been getting calls for Paulette for eight or nine years now. Frequently from the same guy. You think he would get that this isn’t her number by now. Sometimes he even leaves Paulette voicemails, voicemails on my voicemail that has an outgoing message of “You have reached Jessie.”
So what I am saying is, I feel you on the Diana thing.
STILL laughing about the “oral, not emotional” comment!!
I ‘heart’ QWERTY. I sorta have a crush on QWERTY and even considered naming a blog that – but I’m sure it’s taken. Ahhh QWERTY.
*IF* I ever get a cell phone… I will get one made out of corn. I was jazzed about finding disposable plates and utensils made out of corn and/or potatoes, a couple of years ago. But, a cellphone?!?! GREAT!
I like cinnamon flavored polish… and sometimes orange. I usually get a choice of floss flavors too, do you?
Orange? I’ve never had orange before. Mint, yes. Peppermint or cinnamon, no thanks! Fruit punch is okay, but no tropical fruit, please.
My hubby has to have his mouth numbed for cleanings, but I keep telling him that if he would actually go twice a year, it wouldn’t be as bad. That and brushing his teeth in the morning, as he only brushes (when he does brush) at night. One of the major sticking points of the marriage, so far.
A bunch of different insurance companies have been calling Patricia back at the home number that my family has had for OVER 40 YEARS. Better than the creditors calling my new cell phone number a couple years ago!
I have the same problem with Kelly Lowe! Apparently she owes some people some money? I hope its not the mob. She also really needs to tell her grandmother her new cell number too.
OMG! I have an NTI! Isn’t it the best? No more tooth-cracking and fewer headaches! (I’m so emotionally sensitive I crack my teeth with the strength of my anxiety. And jaws.)
According to Margaret Visser, in her wonderful book “Much depends on Dinner”, there are only two products in the entire American supermarket which do not contain a by-product of corn – fresh milk and fresh fish. I’m not sure how bananas slipped through, but if I whip it out (the book, you rude thing) to check, I’ll let you know. All this means is that Corn is taking over the world. Go you cobs!
Corn phone – that is so cool!
Cool phone! I now am dealing with phone envy but I suppose I’ll get over it. Corn Phone!
I finally stopped getting calls for some guy who used to have my number after 5 years of “no he doesn’t live here. No I don’t know him. No I don’t know where he is” and hoping the police and/or creditors wouldn’t come to my house looking for him!
Maybe we should put together a website like on FlashForward where everybody can log on and post and find phone messages they’re missing. I have two years worth stored up for a Contessa Bradford on my Blackberry number at work.
Deanna, that’s a GREAT idea!
Get this — we routinely have creditors calling for… (wait for it, and definitely no offense intended to anyone at all by the following fact)…JESUS! Yes, we’ve had the same number for over 30 years, and for the last 15 or so, people have been regularly trying to hunt Jesus down at our place. Sorry folks, even with the Hispanic pronunciation, wrong number!
Ew, nothing but mint polish please! Fruit flavors make me gag. And I hate the grit so I make them rinse and rinse and rinse. Best is when the hygenist just lets me swish and spit into the sink.
Oh, and I’d totally read a blog dedicated to postings the messages that are left on the VM for other people.
I’m curious what citrus does to your face. I love pineapple and have ridiculous acne on my jawline…is there a connection?
My last cell phone number was also home to a gal with mega credit issues. And, a guy who left several rapping voice mails. I’m not making this up. He often rapped about her “big, fine booty” and “pick up the phone, I’m so alone.” (i forget what rhyming companion went with ‘booty’)