Practicing My Cringing.

I'll be doing alot of that tomorrow. Physical Cringing will occur because I have fairly sensitive teeth and have, in my dental panic, probably brushed away half of my gums leaving bare roots for cleaning. Emotional Cringing will be required because my dentist is not exactly the kind of guy who thinks before he speaks. Or he does think but is so enamored of himself and his stature as a DMD that he has lost any sense of "context" and "appropriateness" in conversations. In our time together he has suggested to me that special needs children should pay to attend public schools (I am a special educator), that the premise of a television show featuring a woman as president is "bullsh**t," and has informed me that I require a bleaching. But that he won't do it. He doesn't think I deserve it apparently.

I spent alot of time at the dentist as a wee, little lambie. Not due to poor dental habits or anything, but because of my small mouth. (note: anyone who knows The Sheep personally has just fallen off their chair and is currently rolling around on the floor in the throes of laughter) My teeth were too large for my tiny jawline and several had to be extracted to make room for all the gi-normous ivories. And, you know, I never had a problem with it. I was fine. Cut me open, rip things out of my head...whatever. I was a blase little bugger.

But Dr. DeSade DMD (not his real name) has instilled in me a fear of the dental chair that is just unshakable. Sadly, he also happens to be pretty good at what he does, albeit a bit rough. He is not a good listener and probably should have cocked an ear my way prior to the root canal when I happened to mention (ten times) that novacaine is not particularly effective on me. But he was able to reconstruct a tooth that was shattered below the gumline and I guess that has to count for something.

I'm still gonna be completely stressed out until my cleaning is over and I can escape the confines of the chair 'o doom.

Well, that might be true were it not for the fact that I am heading over to the mechanic to deal with my squealing truck immediately afterwards. Tomorrow is going to be a very expensive day, I fear.

As a coping mechanism I cast on and knit like a demon on a new vest from the Knitty archives:

It's the Boogie Vest!

Cuz I don't have enough garments in puke green. We all need at least one puke green vest in our wardrobe right? What can I say? My greenbacks are all currently earmarked for the dentist and the mechanic. I had to use what I had on hand. Why I had puke green yarn in my stash I do not know. It was probably some sort of yarn black-out or something. I'm not asking questions.

And, for some reason, I seem to have begun cutting pieces for a quilt. A quilt!!! This is going to be a bumpy ride, fraught with tears, tantrums and "the bad words."

Is no one going to try and stop me?????

SA