Yesterday I started using Crest WhiteStrips. I went to the dentist last week, and had a very thorough cleaning, so I thought it was the perfect time to whiten my actual teeth instead of all the fuzzy tartar and plaque that has been building up as I postponed and postponed and postponed again.
The strips are easy enough to use, as far as applying them, however it's kind of annoying keeping them on for 30 minutes. I'm the kind of person who can't leave things alone. If I get popcorn stuck in my teeth at the movies, I will rub my tongue raw trying to get it out instead of leaving it alone until I get home and removing it properly with floss. So, half an hour of these things in my mouth is almost maddening.
Plus, you aren't supposed to swallow the bleach (duh) but when it mixes with your saliva, it kinda bubbles up over the strips, so you have no choice. And it tastes bad. And the strips, with the bubbling of the bleach, feel like they are pulling away from you teeth, so you have to keep running your tongue or finger along them to re-stick them. Then I'm paranoid that I will get the bleach on my clothes, or whatever.
But besides all this, I think they work well. I notice a difference, although I wish they had come with a little whitening guide so you can find what color your teeth are when you start the process, and what color they end up. SB suggested taking digital photos, but I think it wouldn't be as accurate because you'll never have the same lighting. I'll try to remember to post a shot when I'm done my 14 days of treatment.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Thursday, October 26, 2006
I just need a little more "me" time
While watching TV the other night, a commercial came on for some kind of learning game for kids. It showed the mom with the kid sitting on her knee playing this game on the TV. It made me think about how terrible I would be as a parent. I don't think I would like to play kid games. I would need a child who likes to do crossword puzzles, or who could play quietly while I did mine. And the child must knit. I would most likely have a hard time concentrating while playing normal kid games. My kid would probably grow up thinking C is for dog just because I wasn't paying attention.
Monday, October 23, 2006
You should need a psych exam to adopt a pet - and maybe to have children, too
It's not often that I come into contact with someone more whacko than I am, but every once in a while I do. Well, this weekend I had another fun encounter with the random schizophrenics of the world.
While driving back from Domino's (yes, the Domino's - the one they opened near my house!!!) Sexy Boyfriend and I saw a German Shepherd puppy wandering into the street. He looked like he was about 4-5 months old, and had a thin chain leash wrapped around his neck (no collar) and dragging behind him.
Sexy Boyfriend didn't even have to ask, he just pulled over and I jumped out of the car. I followed the pup across the road, and was able to get a hold of him. Some people at the bus stop pointed out a woman sweeping some leaves on the sidewalk and said the puppy belonged to her, so I picked him up (the leash was not dependable at all and kept slipping off his head) and went back across the road to return him.
At first I was happy that we knew his owner, and that he would be safe, but as I approached her, I realized I was wrong. She wasn't even looking up, not even aware that he may have wandered anywhere. And then when she finally looked up at me she screamed for me to put the dog down. It was extra frustrating that she couldn't speak english at all, and the only french she knew was "Thank you, bye." She kept yelling all this stuff, and I was trying to explain that her dog needed to be restrained better because he almost got hit by like ten cars when he ran across the road, then she grabbed the leash out of my hand and threw it on the ground. I tried to tell her that it's illegal for a dog to be off-leash in the first place, and that she needs to take better care. She just kept yelling, asking me if I spoke french (which I was speaking to her) and then yelling at me to go. Then she grabbed the leash and started jerking the dog around and yelling at him, then hit him with the broom she had. I SCREAMED at her (I never knew I could react that way to someone) and told her to quit it or I would call the police. When she heard "police" she turned back toward me and started yelling again, meanwhile the dog started to run away again. I ignored her, then reached out and grabbed his leash so he wouldn't become roadkill, then she yelled and HIT ME WITH THE BROOM. By this point Sexy Boyfriend finally came up the sidewalk, and I think she was freaked that we would either take her back to the mother ship for some kind of probing exercise or take the dog away, so she finally started dragging him down the sidewalk by the leash, up into an apartment.
I was so shaken up, so angry, so saddened. That poor puppy has no chance. He will grow up, either with her and become abused, angry and aggressive, or in a pound when she loses him, once he is too big to be cute; untrained, and so, undesirable. Or he will be hit by a car and die. I was crying in the car on the way home. I wish I hadn't crossed the street to bring him back to her. I wish I had just gotten in my car and tried to find him somewhere to live myself.
While driving back from Domino's (yes, the Domino's - the one they opened near my house!!!) Sexy Boyfriend and I saw a German Shepherd puppy wandering into the street. He looked like he was about 4-5 months old, and had a thin chain leash wrapped around his neck (no collar) and dragging behind him.
Sexy Boyfriend didn't even have to ask, he just pulled over and I jumped out of the car. I followed the pup across the road, and was able to get a hold of him. Some people at the bus stop pointed out a woman sweeping some leaves on the sidewalk and said the puppy belonged to her, so I picked him up (the leash was not dependable at all and kept slipping off his head) and went back across the road to return him.
At first I was happy that we knew his owner, and that he would be safe, but as I approached her, I realized I was wrong. She wasn't even looking up, not even aware that he may have wandered anywhere. And then when she finally looked up at me she screamed for me to put the dog down. It was extra frustrating that she couldn't speak english at all, and the only french she knew was "Thank you, bye." She kept yelling all this stuff, and I was trying to explain that her dog needed to be restrained better because he almost got hit by like ten cars when he ran across the road, then she grabbed the leash out of my hand and threw it on the ground. I tried to tell her that it's illegal for a dog to be off-leash in the first place, and that she needs to take better care. She just kept yelling, asking me if I spoke french (which I was speaking to her) and then yelling at me to go. Then she grabbed the leash and started jerking the dog around and yelling at him, then hit him with the broom she had. I SCREAMED at her (I never knew I could react that way to someone) and told her to quit it or I would call the police. When she heard "police" she turned back toward me and started yelling again, meanwhile the dog started to run away again. I ignored her, then reached out and grabbed his leash so he wouldn't become roadkill, then she yelled and HIT ME WITH THE BROOM. By this point Sexy Boyfriend finally came up the sidewalk, and I think she was freaked that we would either take her back to the mother ship for some kind of probing exercise or take the dog away, so she finally started dragging him down the sidewalk by the leash, up into an apartment.
I was so shaken up, so angry, so saddened. That poor puppy has no chance. He will grow up, either with her and become abused, angry and aggressive, or in a pound when she loses him, once he is too big to be cute; untrained, and so, undesirable. Or he will be hit by a car and die. I was crying in the car on the way home. I wish I hadn't crossed the street to bring him back to her. I wish I had just gotten in my car and tried to find him somewhere to live myself.
Friday, October 20, 2006
One year later
A year ago, I was in a pretty bad place. I was having trouble finding out who I was, where I wanted to go, and finding the courage to just do it. I had a hard time reaching out to people, leaning on people, and trusting people. I had very high expectations, not just for myself, but for the people around me. Often, to keep these expectations from not being met, I would withdraw. If the bar is not set, it's impossible to miss. I was spending my days crying in the pharmacy.
But I have come so far, and learned so much.
In the past year I have learned that things really do happen for a reason. That I have drawn from every single thing I have experienced, good and bad, and learned some very valuable lessons.
I learned that I need to listen to my instincts, do what I love, and that's when I will feel the best. Doing 100% at a job that you hate is never going to be fulfilling, ever.
I've learned that medication is fabulous.
I've learned that I need to leave myself open to friends - to reach out to them and be there when they reach out for me. Sometimes people will disappoint you, and sometimes they will betray. But the good ones, they will make you feel full. Full of life and laughter and support. And if they don't make you feel that way, then they aren't worth it.
It's hard for me to believe that a year ago I felt so helpless, and empty. Because now I am happier, healthier, more energetic. I love what I do, I love who I am, and I love everything I have around me - Sexy Boyfriend, my friends, my family, my pets.
All of this to say thank you. Thanks for encouraging me, being my crutch, being patient and supportive. Giving me the confidence to strike out and try something different, and laughing with me when I didn't really want to.
But I have come so far, and learned so much.
In the past year I have learned that things really do happen for a reason. That I have drawn from every single thing I have experienced, good and bad, and learned some very valuable lessons.
I learned that I need to listen to my instincts, do what I love, and that's when I will feel the best. Doing 100% at a job that you hate is never going to be fulfilling, ever.
I've learned that medication is fabulous.
I've learned that I need to leave myself open to friends - to reach out to them and be there when they reach out for me. Sometimes people will disappoint you, and sometimes they will betray. But the good ones, they will make you feel full. Full of life and laughter and support. And if they don't make you feel that way, then they aren't worth it.
It's hard for me to believe that a year ago I felt so helpless, and empty. Because now I am happier, healthier, more energetic. I love what I do, I love who I am, and I love everything I have around me - Sexy Boyfriend, my friends, my family, my pets.
All of this to say thank you. Thanks for encouraging me, being my crutch, being patient and supportive. Giving me the confidence to strike out and try something different, and laughing with me when I didn't really want to.
Monday, October 16, 2006
I probably shouldn't be driving yet.
We attended a wedding on Saturday - my friends Bryan and Sylvie got married. The ceremony was lovely, the food was good, and the bar was open.
As with most instances of getting too drunk, I can't remember that moment when I should have said "nothing but water for me for the rest of the night, please" but when i actually said "just give me two sangrias, so I won't have to come back to the bar for 10 minutes."
We had SOOOO much fun - sat at the same table as Ems and her SB, and some other friends from my former job from hell. There was lots of laughing, lots of dancing, corruption of Bry's 16 year old sister, shooters, people who were actually more drunk than we were, and thus very entertaining to us really drunk people. We rented a room across the street, and so did Ems and her SB, so the party kept right on going. I loosely remember crossing the four-lane road carrying my shoes, falling off of my bed (not just falling - tumbling - like gymnastic-style), playing caps, talking with Ems' SB for a very long time, then crawling back to my bed. Cut to a few hours later, around 11:30, when Sexy Boyfriend wakes me up and says we should check out. I was still drunk, for sure, but I think SB was just hungover at that point. I spent the whole day sleeping, trying to keep down water, and then spent the whole evening running to the toilet. I can't remember the last time I was so hungover. Tried to replace liquids and electrolytes by drinking some Gatorade - ended in green vomit. I know, nice, but why hold back? I also have several mystery bruises on my legs which I can't remember getting. I'm pretty sure it wasn't from falling off the bed, but not sure what else it could have been.
Anyway, so today i finally feel like a regular hangover. I dropped the keys for my employees this morning, and now I'm trying to rally myself for my group walk at noon. Ugh.
But I do think we all succeeded in bringing sexy back. What's sexier than Gatorade vomit? Nothing, that's what.
As with most instances of getting too drunk, I can't remember that moment when I should have said "nothing but water for me for the rest of the night, please" but when i actually said "just give me two sangrias, so I won't have to come back to the bar for 10 minutes."
We had SOOOO much fun - sat at the same table as Ems and her SB, and some other friends from my former job from hell. There was lots of laughing, lots of dancing, corruption of Bry's 16 year old sister, shooters, people who were actually more drunk than we were, and thus very entertaining to us really drunk people. We rented a room across the street, and so did Ems and her SB, so the party kept right on going. I loosely remember crossing the four-lane road carrying my shoes, falling off of my bed (not just falling - tumbling - like gymnastic-style), playing caps, talking with Ems' SB for a very long time, then crawling back to my bed. Cut to a few hours later, around 11:30, when Sexy Boyfriend wakes me up and says we should check out. I was still drunk, for sure, but I think SB was just hungover at that point. I spent the whole day sleeping, trying to keep down water, and then spent the whole evening running to the toilet. I can't remember the last time I was so hungover. Tried to replace liquids and electrolytes by drinking some Gatorade - ended in green vomit. I know, nice, but why hold back? I also have several mystery bruises on my legs which I can't remember getting. I'm pretty sure it wasn't from falling off the bed, but not sure what else it could have been.
Anyway, so today i finally feel like a regular hangover. I dropped the keys for my employees this morning, and now I'm trying to rally myself for my group walk at noon. Ugh.
But I do think we all succeeded in bringing sexy back. What's sexier than Gatorade vomit? Nothing, that's what.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Weekend off, here I come!
Today will be the start of my first weekend off in over a month. I'm very excited, because unlike some weekends off that get spent cleaning, doing laundry, and groaning about all the stuff we have to get done, this weekend we actually have real-live plans!
It all starts tonight, when at 5:30 SB and i are going for a fabulous couples massage. Just a regular massage, but you both get to go in the same room, and there are two masseuses. I can't wait - can't remember the last time I went for a massage, but it's included in our insurance package so it's retarded that we don't go once a month.
Then, tomorrow is my friend Bryan's wedding. The ceremony is at 2pm, so I'll spend the morning sleeping in a bit, then we'll get ready and head over to the church. After that part, the reception is being held at 5, but we and another couple each rented rooms at a hotel nearby, so we will got and check in, and maybe have a few drinks, then head to the hall. I'm really excited, not just because I haven't been to a wedding in ages, but also because it's rare that we get to do couples stuff with my friend Ems and her SB, because of our work schedules, and then they have kids, and finding time is hard. It will be awesome to just relax, have fun, and have a lot of laughs.
Sunday we have no plans as of yet. Hopefully I won't be too hung over, and maybe we'll go out for breakfast or something.
It all starts tonight, when at 5:30 SB and i are going for a fabulous couples massage. Just a regular massage, but you both get to go in the same room, and there are two masseuses. I can't wait - can't remember the last time I went for a massage, but it's included in our insurance package so it's retarded that we don't go once a month.
Then, tomorrow is my friend Bryan's wedding. The ceremony is at 2pm, so I'll spend the morning sleeping in a bit, then we'll get ready and head over to the church. After that part, the reception is being held at 5, but we and another couple each rented rooms at a hotel nearby, so we will got and check in, and maybe have a few drinks, then head to the hall. I'm really excited, not just because I haven't been to a wedding in ages, but also because it's rare that we get to do couples stuff with my friend Ems and her SB, because of our work schedules, and then they have kids, and finding time is hard. It will be awesome to just relax, have fun, and have a lot of laughs.
Sunday we have no plans as of yet. Hopefully I won't be too hung over, and maybe we'll go out for breakfast or something.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Something in the air
My dog Charlie is officially out of the group.
Every day I have a group of dogs that I bring up the mountain, and lately I've been bringing my dogs too - I never used to be able to because I would have other appointments all through the day, and it was too hot to leave them in the car. But now, more often than not, my group is the only pet work I have, so doggies can come.
Charlie is a basset hound, and tends to follow his nose. When I started bring him to group, he was really good, and chugged along with the rest of the doggies, wanting to get to know them and not really sure of himself yet. Lately, he's been chasing squirrels into the woods, and disappearing for a while, then joining us again, and ya, that's pretty annoying, but he always comes back, and he's having fun, so I let him.
Then today he crossed a line. A line that from this day on will be referred to as The Puke Shit Incident. We were rounding the last bend before the car, and I was gathering everyone back on their leashes when Charlie suddenly barked at a squirrel and darted into the woods. We all started toward the car while I called him, and about a minute later he reappeared and ran to join us. Except he wasn't quite himself. No no, he was covered in The Puke Shit.
It was obvious he had found something quite exciting in the woods and rubbed his whole head and shoulders and neck in it, but what it was - well, who knows, really? It was yellowish, and slimy, and squished into his fur, but also smelled a little like poo, but looked like puke, hence the name Puke Shit. Before getting him in the car I wiped him off with all I had - some Lysol apple sented wipes. That sure made it smell nicer.
When we got home he went right to the tub, where I rinsed and scrubbed and soaped (in my clean as of yesterday tub - ugh!). He didn't get the good doggie shampoo, either. No, he got the discount kind because I had to use about half a bottle to get all the Puke Shit out of his fur. He was shaking and whining, and when we were finally done he jumped out of the tub and laid on some towels I had prepared. I kept the door closed so he couldn't get anything in the house wet while I showered and re-rinsed the tub. When I got out of the shower, he was licking and whining and shaking water off of him. Ya, like being wet and clean is SO bad compared to being covered in Puke Shit.
And so to get back at him, I give you this:
Every day I have a group of dogs that I bring up the mountain, and lately I've been bringing my dogs too - I never used to be able to because I would have other appointments all through the day, and it was too hot to leave them in the car. But now, more often than not, my group is the only pet work I have, so doggies can come.
Charlie is a basset hound, and tends to follow his nose. When I started bring him to group, he was really good, and chugged along with the rest of the doggies, wanting to get to know them and not really sure of himself yet. Lately, he's been chasing squirrels into the woods, and disappearing for a while, then joining us again, and ya, that's pretty annoying, but he always comes back, and he's having fun, so I let him.
Then today he crossed a line. A line that from this day on will be referred to as The Puke Shit Incident. We were rounding the last bend before the car, and I was gathering everyone back on their leashes when Charlie suddenly barked at a squirrel and darted into the woods. We all started toward the car while I called him, and about a minute later he reappeared and ran to join us. Except he wasn't quite himself. No no, he was covered in The Puke Shit.
It was obvious he had found something quite exciting in the woods and rubbed his whole head and shoulders and neck in it, but what it was - well, who knows, really? It was yellowish, and slimy, and squished into his fur, but also smelled a little like poo, but looked like puke, hence the name Puke Shit. Before getting him in the car I wiped him off with all I had - some Lysol apple sented wipes. That sure made it smell nicer.
When we got home he went right to the tub, where I rinsed and scrubbed and soaped (in my clean as of yesterday tub - ugh!). He didn't get the good doggie shampoo, either. No, he got the discount kind because I had to use about half a bottle to get all the Puke Shit out of his fur. He was shaking and whining, and when we were finally done he jumped out of the tub and laid on some towels I had prepared. I kept the door closed so he couldn't get anything in the house wet while I showered and re-rinsed the tub. When I got out of the shower, he was licking and whining and shaking water off of him. Ya, like being wet and clean is SO bad compared to being covered in Puke Shit.
And so to get back at him, I give you this:
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
It must be a full moon
My mother has bursted my Mr. Clean bubble. On my advice, she purchased the mr. Clean bathroom doohicky, and when I squealed with delight and asked her how she liked it she said "oh, it's okay - I guess it just didn't clean my tub as clean as I would like it." I was hurt. I was devastated. I questioned my own bathroom's cleanliness. Then I remembered that my mother's version of clean is performing open heart surgery on it, and then serving up some Thanksgiving dinner on it. And then licking it. That clean. So then I used mine again, and sure enough, clean clean clean.
I have had a very terrible couple of days with my work doggies. They are all misbehaving and running off into the woods and making me mad, and then puking and diarrheaing everywhere, and the weirdest puke I've ever seen - puke that was pink and looked like cat vomit, but dog-sized. Oh, and bashing me in the face and giving me a fat lip, which went down, but then the next day my whole jaw felt like I had been in a bar-room brawl and forgot about it. So, I think there is a full moon. But have not confirmed it, although I'm sure all I would have to do is Google full moon schedule and it would tell me. But I prefer to at least pretend there is a full moon and thus an explanation for Terrible Doggie Week.
However, my week has been less eventful than my employee/friend Maria's. We have been seeing this one guy mountain biking all the time in the woods, and we both say hi to him, but because she sees him about 10 times a day and I see him once, sometimes they make small talk. Today as she was coming down the hill, she saw him sitting in the woods - he had fallen coming down a steep incline and sliced open his leg, right down to the bone. So much excitement!!! So she leashed the dogs, helped him and his bike down the mountain, and drove him to the hospital. Apparently he's okay. It was either because of the rain, and the rocks were slippery, or it was the full moon.
I have had a very terrible couple of days with my work doggies. They are all misbehaving and running off into the woods and making me mad, and then puking and diarrheaing everywhere, and the weirdest puke I've ever seen - puke that was pink and looked like cat vomit, but dog-sized. Oh, and bashing me in the face and giving me a fat lip, which went down, but then the next day my whole jaw felt like I had been in a bar-room brawl and forgot about it. So, I think there is a full moon. But have not confirmed it, although I'm sure all I would have to do is Google full moon schedule and it would tell me. But I prefer to at least pretend there is a full moon and thus an explanation for Terrible Doggie Week.
However, my week has been less eventful than my employee/friend Maria's. We have been seeing this one guy mountain biking all the time in the woods, and we both say hi to him, but because she sees him about 10 times a day and I see him once, sometimes they make small talk. Today as she was coming down the hill, she saw him sitting in the woods - he had fallen coming down a steep incline and sliced open his leg, right down to the bone. So much excitement!!! So she leashed the dogs, helped him and his bike down the mountain, and drove him to the hospital. Apparently he's okay. It was either because of the rain, and the rocks were slippery, or it was the full moon.
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