If someone were to ask me, “hey, Roz, what is the stupidest thing you’ve done in the past five years?” I would first, weigh in the time I mixed copious amounts of beer, wine and tequila before sitting my carsick-prone self in the back seat of a vehicle, and the other time I mistook Nyquil for daytime cold relief, but in the end, not poking my head in for regular dentist visits would top the list.
That's right, lovers! Two uninsured root canals and one filing later, I’ll be saying a misty eyed farewell to both of my ovaries and possibly one of my kidneys as they must be sold and dispersed on the black market. Who needs ‘em?? My back teeth are of paramount importance to me! I need them for night time grinding and lettuce masticating. Not to mention all of those beer bottle caps that would thus go unopened!
My amiable dentist is a big, Star Wars loving Canadian. I asked him about the challenges of becoming a doctor without the ability to read or write. Were the textbooks all full of pictures and paint by numbers? And, yes, before he shaved his head, he proudly sported a mullet.
To open the root canal experience, I said I knew it wasn’t standard procedure, but could I please get a morphine drip? And, hell, let’s get a round of morphine drips for everyone in the building! It’s on me today!
At this dentist office, for whatever reason (possibly just to annoy the hygenists who, I am sure, have better things to do), they offer a paraffin hand treatment, warm neck roll, massaging chair, and unlimited cable tv watching during your treatment. My dentist said they would do everything to not only make me comfortable, but to "pamper" me.
In that case, I asked if he would massage my feet and play with my hair while the rubber mould for my shiny new faux tooth was setting. He said body rubs were not part of the service. I enlightened him to the fact that there is no way he can ensure my “comfort”, if he has no idea what makes me comfortable.
Pushing a long needle into my gums, he answered my next question before I could ask it, “And sorry, Roz, no Happy Endings.”
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
"I fell in love with a task master and he said emotions are something to consider only after work is done." $350
Getting all of the art up at Green Spoon went over without a hitch, thanks mostly to The Dad for developing an upcycled hanging ledge and wire system for the art. He was up on the ladder for hours while I was drinking wine with Katie at the bottom, both of us swallowing quickly to say, "...a little that way..." and "...up about three inches..." or "...okay, now down....too far!" Every time he moved the ladder, he had to remind me that I needed to help him. Is this just the beginning for the egocentrical artist inside of me? Oblivious to the pains of my father?
Let's hope so.
After hanging art, setting out the metal spoon "light" and bowl made of wrenches that dad gifted to the restaurant, Katie and Gene treated us to Thai pizza from the place down the street...I will insert the name here once I remember what it was. But, oh boy, Thai pizza...yum! I don't think I've ever had it so good!
I finished about five small pieces of quote art for Matter!, cranked out a few wholesale card orders, did ten sit-ups, and started on some mini word art paintings for my Bipolar Betty site this weekend. Also, I will be blogging here:
http://www.dearbipolarbetty.blogspot.com/ starting now, if any of you are interested.
My friend Robert suggested that I surf the web for an art grant that might suit my needs while nursing a bottle of wine. It's been a long time since I've heard a more delightful way to execute a task.
"Before she could fall, she first had to walk to the edge." $350
"The untouchable flowers of your fragile sea." $200
"We opened our mouths to the sun and kicked our shoes to the ocean." $200