You know that migraine I had the other day? It was quite possibly a hormone-thing, but after consuming 3 Imitrex over the course of 2 days, the pain moved directly into the right side of my face and prevented me from chewing food. So, I decided to go to the dentist. I hate the dentist. I've proclaimed my hatred for the dentist in previous posts, as I'd rather have four pap smears - one right after the other - than go to the dentist. So, me going is a big deal. I either have to be punched directly in the face and have teeth knocked out of my head or have the raging pain I had the other day to ask for an appointment. But I know that if I can't eat solid food, there's an issue. I like food.
Lucky me...it turns out I have this little thing called Bruxism. It's a fancy name for clenching and grinding of the teeth. I do this at night. Why, you ask? I have no friggin' idea, other than the fact that I am a freak and a half. I'm a historically-maniacal insomniac who apparently thinks too much not ONLY while awake, but also while I'm asleep. I guess my sleeping brain believes that clenching and grinding my teeth with four times as much power as I do when I'm awake will rid me of all worries and life stressors. Welcome to my type-A little world. Jump right in. The water's warm.
So, my dentist said that I have good, strong teeth, but they're being worn down with the constant grinding, and the pain I'm experiencing is a result of this. The solution for this problem is to STOP DOING IT, of course. And the only way to stop doing it is to wear this really attractive mouth guard at night. Kind of like a very thick condom for my teeth. A teeth Trojan, if you will. My first mental image was Joan Cusack in Sixteen Candles...the vision of her with that hugely awesome headgear.
Within 10 minutes of the diagnosis, dentist-man shoves this nasty cement crap in my mouth, holds it there for three minutes, and oila! Instant mold of my upper mouth. I shall have my really sexy cure for bruxism by tomorrow afternoon. In my very own hands. Lucky, lucky me!
To add to my extreme overall hotness, I got my hair cut tonight. And colored, of course. Brown. Really, really brown. I'm a brunette tonight for the first time in YEARS. And, while I realize I have to let it settle and grow on me a bit...fade out and find its groove...I'm a blonde by nature. Yes, I realize that my blonde may not be all real, but I'm truly a blonde from the depths of my soul. Tonight was one of those, "I just need a change, and it's winter, so why the hell not?" nights. I went full-on brunette and got a little Posh Spice cut to go with it. The cut is adorable, and I love it. The color? I kind of hate it. I'll let it try to change my mind in the next few days, and if it doesn't convince me of its sheer sexiness, I will reconsider and kill the brunette me. And that's OK. Because I live in a constant hairocracy...and I'm the dictator.
To top off my sexy brunette bruxism, I also found out today that my slated work trip to Brazil has been derailed. Instead, I shall be going to ARGENTINA. I am BEYOND excited about this. Brazil was going to be a cool place to visit, but I started becoming fearful of my eventual slaying upon my arrival at the Sao Paolo airport. Argentina is where Oscar the Boxer lives, so it must be OK. This news made up for any dental condoms in my future, as I'll finally be visiting a Spanish-speaking, South American country at 37. I've been wanting to do this since I sat happily, conjugating verbs and going by the self-imposed Spanish name Cha Cha, in 10th grade Spanish class. My undergraduate minor in Spanish will finally have a shot at rearing its head, other than to say, "Otra margarita, por favor!"
So, to recap. I am the coolest writer-chick on the planet today, as I'll be jetting to South America in December. This completely overshadows my complete brunette indifference, the teeth Trojan, and the fact that I could very well be morphing into Joan Cusack's character in Sixteen Candles.
And with that, I bid you goodnight.
