Lame does not even cover it.
Friday, Oct. 14, 2005 @ 3:54 p.m.

I know, I know, I KNOW. I'm so lame but sometimes I'm just to tired to write my stories all out. There's lots that's happened in the last month and a lot of little things that I want to write about but finding the time has been tough lately. Keen Designs has been a busy little bee! We have updated the website with glorious new pictures that you must check out. This weekend we have two more events, both possibly painful, but we have to keep trying. Trying is definitely the word for it. I'm not good at smiling and being friendly for more than an hour, tops. After that I start mentally making people over and having to restrain myself from slapping the next person who fondles the beans.

In other news, the fates have conspired to make me poor. I went to the dentist a few weeks ago because I thought I'd lost a filing due to some tasty metal-filled gum I'd been chewing. Hooray, I had not, but then the dentist, almost as an afterthought, said on his way out "It looks like you might need a gum graft on that left molar."

I don't. What is. Who the. What. I. Hold me.

A GUM GRAFT. I know! thank god for the internet because I'd never heard such a thing. Now I know exactly what it is and have seen many horrifying pictures that illustrate it as well. It really is as horrible as it sounds. Yikes. It sounded expensive, certainly.

So, like a good girl I trot off to the periodontist that my dentist recommended and he takes a look and confirms that yes, they do need to remove a chunk of skin from the roof of my mouth and sew it onto my gum. Gah. Dazed, I wander over to the reception desk where they perkily inform me that the procedure costs $1,600. SIXTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS. Do you know what you can buy with that kind of money?

Here's what the Periodontist is going to buy:

I know. It's sad, really. I might end up going to the dental school where it will take eight hours and the poor student will get yelled at while working on me, which really instills confidence, I think. Lovely.

The funnest part about why I need a gum graft: Braces. The problem was caused by the tooth shifting because of my braces. I got braces to fix my teeth! I suffered through middle school and part of high school just so I could come to this end. However, if I hadn't gotten them I'd have teeth growing out of the side of my face. I do not come from the strongest gene pool, really. We have bad teeth, bad eyes and fucked-brains that make math comprehension difficult. I am hot, I tell you. White hot.

So really, I need the money and I'm hoping our events this weekend are profitable. Ha.

I'm going to wrap this up now because what is left besides talking about how much my fist would love the mailroom guy's face? Yes, it's FriHday, people. Before I go, there is one thing I want to tell you about. The kid.

On my morning commute I drive by this house where every morning this kid and his mom are waiting for the bus to arrive. It's sad how kids can't even wait for the bus unescorted anymore. We did it when I was a kid and I don't know that times were any more dangerous, you know? But if I had kids, no way I'd let them stand alone on the curb. Anyway, this kid? Is something else. I know this kid. I remember him from when I was eight or nine. He is commonly known as a Loose Cannon. I can guarantee you that every day of school is pure misery for him.

Some mornings he is pretending to shoot things, sometimes he's punching himself, sometimes he just stands and glowers at the cars passing by. Every morning is a trial and I know this because his mom looks tired. He's a handful and I'm sure he gets teased something awful. I remember what it was like and I can see that he's a victim. No way is this kid capable of fitting in.

Of course, I love looking for him and seeing what he's up to every morning. Today he was waiting with his dad and the family cat, which I thought was sweet. The kid looked vaguely happy because his weekly sentence was almost up. I hope he has a good weekend. You too, for that matter.

7 chatty monkeys

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