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A Voracious Vocabulary
gainsay (verb) to declare false.

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Fancy fair isle sweater for myself.



































































































































































































































































































Thursday, Aug. 05, 2004 - 6:11 p.m.

In the past two days, I have spent a total of four hours or more in a tooth surgeon's chair. I knew I would be having a root canal sometime during my stay in Montana, but low and behold, I needed not one but two root canals, and they ended up being on consecutive days. That previous sentence is too long, for all you people who aren't grammarians.

Yesterday my mother and I arrived at the office in Kalispell. After five minutes of waiting in the office, they ask me, "Do you know which teeth need root canals?" What? Do I know? Hell no, I don't know, that's your job.

I am sorry, just because I take responsibility for having healthy teeth does not mean I learn the lingo of dentistry. Thus, I space out when my dentist and her assistant discuss my teeth in front of me, because I'll be damned if I know what it means that tooth number fourteen is breeching its alloted capacity for root dominance. Yes, I just made that up, which only supports my point that I am ignorant when it comes to dentistry. All I know is the information I ASK FOR, and all I asked was how many teeth were in need of root canals. My dentist told me only one tooth needed a root canal, and the other needed to be watched carefully.

Well, this tooth surgeon I saw yesterday and today, who, by the way, has NO sense of humor, informed me that both teeth needed root canals as soon as possible. But, it doesn't end there. Now that I have both root canals completed, the one performed on one of my molars requires a crown. A crown requires two visits to the dentist, the first for molds and a temporary crown and the second for the actual permanant crown. I don't have enough time to have this done in Montana, so I will have to add to my stress of moving down to Berkeley by at least two visits to a dentist I have never met.

I will be referred to a dentist in Berkeley by my current dentist, and in arranging this, my mother and I learned that there is some kind of Dentist Crown Council. Does that sound random to anyone else? I am all for support found in groups with mutual interests and such, but a Crown Council? Is there a Root Canal Council? I think I'll found the Why the Hell Doesn't this Twenty Dollar Skirt I Bought at the Gap Fit Properly Even When I Wear Belts With It Council. I have no doubt I would have one hundred members in just the first day. Of course, this might spread me thin, considering I already belong to the Falls Asleep While Traveling Council and Sisters With Little Brothers Council. After all, one cannot do everything.

If you think the above venting is a little overboard, then you have no idea at the dental history I have suffered. In a nutshell:

8 years: car crash, all top teeth knocked out and sewn in again

9 years: run into brick wall while simultaneously riding bike and wearing head gear, thus chipping front two teeth and requiring filing down of said teeth

elementary years: braces, part 1

middle school years: braces, part 2, due to faulty work by orthodontist of braces, part 1

15 through 17 years: first job that consitutes cleaning a dentist's office

18 years: wisdom teeth out, pain killers a real trip, dry sockets ensue

19 through 21 years: tooth bliss

22 years: 7 cavities and 2 root canals, and 1 crown, despite dutiful and careful upcare of teeth

Why do I even bother? My poor parents, my mouth is worth a fortune, despite the crazy amount of sarcasm and cynicsim is produces.

Cheers, friends, and some pictures for your enjoyment. Love and guard your teeth.

This is what Paws did during my two days of root canals.

With the guidance of my mother, I recovered four dining room chairs with a lovely blue pinstripe fabric. The previous fabric was this ugly, white and tan weave stuff. Ugh. The chairs are beautiful now.

And Paws did this.

My dad, his friends and coworkers after bottling his first batch of wine (a pinot noir) in the oak wine cask that the liddle bruder, my mother, the boyfriend, and I gave him this last Christmas. The wine, by the way, is fucking AMAZING.

My proud father with the cask and a random bottle that was probably just sitting on the counter.

It is really neat to see all the bottles lined up, especially if you helped in the process of filling and corking the bottles.

And Paws did this.

It must be wonderfully relaxing to be a cat. I have decided Paws was a benevolent king or queen in his past life, thus his well-earned life of leisure. Oh to be a cat.

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