I broke a tooth over the weekend, and my dreamy dentist whom I adore cannot see me until Thursday. Feh, it could be worse. However, the simple, stupid pain of being human and inhabiting meat and bone immeasurably compounds the already confounding work in my philosophy class. For a few minutes, I was quite tickled with the notion that toothache so effectively trumps philosophy.
Then I realized that someone else figured this out a while ago.
I am a brunette with a whisper, nay, a whimper of gray. Yes, well, I’ve realized the gray ones are falling out with more frequency. My. Hmm. I think this calls for a celebration of some sort*. Yes, that’s it. One should be able to salute the arrival of the fleet and then its replacement. Carry on. As you were. Pay no attention to the vertically challenged
girl old bat with the fading hair color. Ha ha. Ahem. Where is my teacup poodle and what have I done with my walking stick?
*read: get me a drink
JM and I have a nice but odd new dentist since our old one retired last year. We met her earlier this summer for our yearly cleaning and I just had a second impression this morning when I went for a filling. That impression would be her bosom which she rests against your face as she works on your teeth. I couldn’t bring myself to say in awkward German, hey honey, do you realize what you’re doing? I hope someone does because I told JM the story this morning upon my return and I also told him how she takes a really, really long time. We’ll see how long it takes for his first cavities to form…
As I edge up to the ripeness that is 35, I have been wondering if is time to refine my skin-care regimen. This is easier than it sounds, since my “regimen” consists of scrubbing my face with a shower glove and borderline-fancy soap. Almost any change that doesn’t involve rubbing my face with a Microplane would be a refinement.
But I can’t do it. Every attempt I have made to look into the subject of skin care is hampered by my resistance to the undertone of desperation in the advertising, by the absurd prices, and by the patently silly names. So pervasive is the implied female fear of aging that I was pleasantly surprised to realize PrescriptivesLast Chance URL is their clearinghouse for discontinued items, not the name of a night cream.
Is it normal to feel one’s brain wiggling agitatedly in the brainpan? It feels like a live fish trapped in my head. This could mean I’m done studying for the semester, not just for the night.
I went to several stores today looking for a new sun screen for my face — a sunscreen without alcohol or parabens. I’m very fair skinned and have already had skin cancer on my face so I’m on a quest to find a good, healthy sunscreen.
I couldn’t find one product that met my requirements. I did find several foundations that offer SPF 10 to 15. I tested one of these on the back of my hand to see the bizarre color that would result (they’re always too dark for me). I just noticed that the back of that hand looks older than the other.
This leads me to believe that they put aging ingredients in their products so you keep buying these damn lotions to cover up the damage they inflict. It makes me glad I stopped wearing makeup years ago, except for the occasional bit on the backs of my hands.
Today in my archaeology lab, we reassembled disarticulated fish skeletons, which was much more fun than it sounds. (Well, it would almost have to be, wouldn’t it?) I was assigned Hippoglossus hippoglossus, the Atlantic halibut.
During this task, I learned (or relearned — it has the ring of a fact distantly known, as in early childhood) that H. hippoglossus is born with an eye on each side of its head, and as it ages the left eye migrates over the top of the head to the right side of the face.
I’ve tried to accept philosophically the inevitable changes that come with age, but I am in no way prepared for this.
I have survived. It’s Tuesday and it turns out I had a kidney stone. I am decidedly better, just thought you should know.
I am in pain. So you don’t like to hear about bodily functions? STOP READING. You don’t like bitching? STOP READING. This is the all-bitching post.
I had a massage yesterday and I’ve never felt worse. Ok, I have felt worse, but not after a massage. It was manual lymph drainage and now my body is detoxing heavily and today I developed a UTI. The list: dizziness, headaches, pain in ribs, pain in right side and urinary tract, and now exhaustion. I broke down and went to the doctor and he gave me antibiotics. They have so many possible side effects that I’m afraid to add to the list! I’ll start tomorrow… Thank you for not reading this.