teeth

Yesterday afternoon, I was feeling a great deal of empathy towards stroke victims. I tried to put on some lipstick, but only half of my mouth would move, and when I tried to blot it, my lips wouldn't do what I wanted them to do.

Take care of your teeth kids, or you too may one day have lipstick troubles.

I had two cavities filled yesterday.

It's funny how deeply teeth are buried in my psyche. Over the years, I've had a lot of dreams wherein my teeth start to loosen and fall out, causing me to panic. According to the dream interpretation dictionary, that symbolizes a feeling of impotence and lack of control.

Whatever. It's freaky.

I can also usually judge how much I like a guy by how much I obsess about his teeth. If I'm not that into him, but am trying to convince myself I should be, his teeth will begin to mesmerize me. An overly large gap or an overlapping tooth has become a deal-breaker on more than one occasion. On the other hand, I've dated guys who had freaky-deaky teeth and been crazy enough about them that I thought the fangs were just a charming quirk.

Which I suppose gets me to my next point. The dentist told me I should get veneers because my teeth are discoloured and I have a chip in my front tooth.

It's weird, because a few years back I would have agreed, but now, I was just insulted by the suggestion. My teeth are part of what makes me me, damnit. I actually happen to think I have very nice teeth, and they also happen to be the teeth I was born with.

And what about my wisdoms? I have been informed that I have an appointment to get them extracted on Oct. 28. The receptionist at the dental clinic handed me my appointment card as I left. Well, guess what? I don't have any interest in getting them extracted. I don't see the wisdom in it. Ha ha.

Love me, love my teeth.

I am so very, very, very, extremely tired right now...

But I said a blog every Sunday, didn't I?

My brain is mush right now, so you'll have to settle for a recap of my week, boring as that may sound/be.

Let's see... I missed two days of work because I flew to Ontario for Ritchie's funeral, so I spent the whole week playing catch up. Instead of working 4-12 at Rogers, I worked 2-12. Add an hour to walk to work every day, and you, in a nut-shell, have what I've been doing lately.

And when not working, I've been on the phone with my employer's competition, Telus, trying to find out why they feel justified in taking $239.85 out of my bank account. For some reason, while they feel justified in taking the money, they don't feel justified in telling me why they did it, because -- get this -- they say I don't have authorization to get that info about my account.

Guess who I plan to spend a great deal of the coming week on the phone with??

I have managed to squeeze some fun in... On Thursday Neen was gracious enough to join me for an after-work rant at Docs, and on Friday Ryan led me down a path that, while fun, I was still regretting when I went to work at the Silvery Moon Saturday night.

I think I'm getting to old for this sh*t.

Oh, and tonight (Sunday) I also worked at the Silvery Moon.

And that is why I am too tired to write an interesting blog entry tonight.

So there.

I know... I lied.

Actually, that's not quite true. I did in fact write a blog on Monday, it's just still sitting in my draft box and may remain there for the forseeable future.

Right now, I'm slogging through bills and chores and drudgework and life. I'll be a better blogger soon.

In the meantime, care to pay a bill for me? Or two?

...Or maybe just clean my kitchen?

No, I didn't forget I promised to update my blog every Sunday

And yes, I know it's Sunday. So here's my post explaining that life has been quite complicated this past week.

A much longer posting will come tomorrow. Promise.

a promise is a promise...

And I said I would update this blog every Sunday.

So here it is:

I'm tired, and I find the fact that winter is coming very discouraging.

I will try to write something a bit more upbeat sometime this week.

In other news... I find I am not terribly unique:

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 4 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

mysteries

One has to wonder what was going through his parent's minds when they looked at their brand new baby boy and chose a name for him.

"Why, he looks just like a ritual form of Japanese suicide," his mother must have thought as she admired his little fingers and toes.

Why else would she have named her son Harry Carey?

No lie. I lived next door to the man for several months. He gave me a freezer full of moose meat and a fair amount of smoked salmon as well.

This is only one of life's many imponderables that I've been contemplating lately.

I've always had the bad habit of reading the last few pages of my book first. I like to know how things are going to turn out before I start to read. No reason to get attached to a character if they're just going to die or skip out halfway through the action.

I call it a 'bad habit' because that's what other people tell me it is. But secretly, I've always kind of wished I could read ahead in life, too. People always tell me that my way of reading spoils the surprise. I always say that a well written book will delight you no matter how many times you read it or how well you know the plot.

But life is not a book plot. It doesn't have a nicely crafted story arc, and as much as I would like to I can't read ahead.

--I have interviewed people who claim to be able to. But then, if you've read my other blog entries you may remember that one of those people thought I was Australian.

So what is next? That's as much of a mystery as what Harry Carey's mother was thinking, I'm afraid.

back to school

Training at a call centre has proven to be amazingly like going back to school... and I don't mean high school or college. No, training is remarkably similar to my memories of elementary school. We do lots of group projects and make colourful posters with smelly markers.

We also play role playing games.

Which leads me to the subject matter of this blog.

Today, in class, we were learning about asking the client questions in order to determine what their problem is. In order to demonstrate, our instructor announced that she was going to be a patient, and one of my classmates would be a doctor.

My classmate, Jose, was the doctor.

"Hello," he said to my instructor. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, I have a rash," she said.

"How long have you had it?" he asked.

"About a week."

"And have you showered in that time?" he asked.

"Um... Yes."

"And do you have a boyfriend?"

Following the extremely enlightening role playing demo, Jose told us a story about how some cream the doctor gave him for a rash caused him to develop a continuous tent problem.

After that, we learned how to read a customer's bill.