It’s Tortilla Time|

This morning I was rudely awoken at six, only to be reminded that I had a dentist appointment.

A dentist appointment. The day after an orthodontist appointment.

This is proof, however minute, that the universe wishes to see my demise. Dentists can bite my ass.

My frequent orthodontic visits have made me come to the stark realization that dental hygienists do all the work, yet the dentists receive the glory. How is this at all fair? Dental hygienists and forced to cope with my foul-smelling breath and my continual breaking of brace brackets, and the orthodontist takes one brief glimpse and gives the thumbs up.

Only yesterday my orthodontist did not give the typical thumbs up. He peered into my mouth and instantaneously gasped ‘Wow, that looks really WEIRD. We must fix that.’
Shaken, I quickly enquired about the issue.
‘This bracket is really off, it looks just terrible.’
‘So, are you going to fix it?’
‘Absolutely, it looks really bad.’
I then braced myself for said procedure.
‘Oh no, we are going to fix it in September. Have a nice summer!’

WTF. So now I walk down the street, completely self conscious of my ‘weird’ looking bracket. Mum insists that only an orthodontist possesses the ability to notice my ill-placed bracket. I, however, beg to differ. I am fully expecting my boss at the vet clinic to fire my ass, citing my beastly bracket as a reason.

Happy birthday to my biggest younger brother. Ben is now sixteen.

Unbelieveable, no? One second they’re a diminutive hairball bopping along to N Sync, the next they’re some surly sixteen year old telling you to make them some damn macaroni.

Yes the inevitable has occurred: we now have a Wii. Be afraid, be very afraid.

My dad recently purchased tickets for the Ohio State vs. Youngstown game on August 30th. That asshole. He knows that the Buckeyes are my weakness, and normally I would turn down anything associated with him, but I’m weak and pathetic and I broke.

A bonus? She-who-shall-not-be-named and the babies won’t be attending. It will be Ben, the asshole and I alone in Columbus.

I can’t help but feel thrilled that I am going to the game. I’ve always fantasized about attending a real live Buckeyes game.

My legs are all scratched up, courtesy of the dense one. Note to self: it may be time for a nail trim.

My friend and I took Seamus and Rocky to the park today, and had as much fun as expected. Seamus and Rocky have formed some sort of deep, meaningful bond, and are damn-near inseparable. I can almost sense the shock that conquers Seamus each time he catches sight of his good friend Rocky, as Rocky has now grown to well over twice the size of Seamus. Seamus is now forced to stand on his hind legs to look his pal in the eyes. It must suck.

The dense one can make me so mad that I wish to rip out every last strand of my hair off my head, and at times such these I exhale gently and remember what a sweet, loving dog he is capable of being. The kind of dog that he was today. I love him.

I love Border Collies. This is my cousin’s.

Going to the hospital to visit my Nana has become such a common occurrence over the last couple of days that it’s almost routine now.

The hospital is depressing; the walls are a pale shade of grey, the aura about the place is melancholic, the people are pessimistic. It’s as if the instant one steps foot in the hospital, they are overcome by gloomy emotion and struck by the significance of it all. People go to the hospital to die.

I must admit, I follow suit and become wistful as I stand on the hospital elevator, watching, waiting, for floor number seven. I often think of how this could be a dress rehearsal for what’s to come. No one talks on the elevator, though heavy thought radiates off of each person like heat.

Floor number four is where babies are brought into the world. How ironic that people breathe their final breaths just a mere floor above. The only chipper souls on the elevator are those that come bearing over sized balloons, stuffed animals and brightly decorated gift bags. They get off at floor four.

I have discovered, as morbid as it may sound, that I obtain a sense of solace knowing that there are visitors to the hospital to see those that are far worse off than my Nana. My Nana is going to be alright. There are people on their deathbeds, with loved ones visiting from afar to bid their final farewells.

I’m off to go visit that dreary place yet again. I am in dire need of my daily dose of pessimism.

Yesterday brought the much-anticipated family reunion. The attendance was far less than initially expected, but I managed to make it work.

I love how much drama goes down amongst the teenagers of our family. I absolutely adore it.

My second cousin brought her boyfriend to the reunion, and he didn’t make any delay in rubbing me the wrong way. Us teenagers decided to go swimming in the lake, and I made it clear from the start that I did not wish to get my hair wet.

When he caught word of this he grumbled, wow, what a prep.
I turned around and sighed loudly, wow, what a creep.

When you date someone for three weeks, I hardly think it’s time to get them acquainted to the family. Especially ours.

It’s always sufficiently awkward when a distant relative approaches you and declares that they haven’t seen you since you were knee high to a grasshopper. Great, you think, who the fuck are you? A second cousin of mine was raving continually of the greatness that is the true essence of my father. Oh, he gushed, he was so great and so popular in our family. It was all I could do to restrain myself from pointing to the door and being all, get the fuck out.

I’ve been seizing any opportunity as of late to take pictures with Calanthe. I saw this family reunion as an ideal photo opportunity, so I subsequently snapped away. So there I was, doing my thing, until I managed to catch sight of a cousin of my mother’s. I was in complete and utter awe, my mouth fell open, my eyes doubled in size.

And no, it was not because he was ridiculously attractive or anything, he was my mother’s age.

He had a dSLR, and on it, the sexiest lens I can recall seeing in, ummm, ever?

I was drawn to it, quite like a moth to light. I reached out and touched it. Ooh baby, I could feel the power. I chatted to this relative of mine, and he, being the kind person that he was, gave me a few pointers and taught me some new photo-taking techniques. This relative had the 10D, and I, the 30D. Though the camera body meant nothing to me, I was eager to try this L-series lens. Much to my pleasure, I was granted permission to mount the sexiness that was this lens to Calanthe and snap away.

Calanthe has been dissatisfied with my mediocre lens since.

I just googled the lens that I was using and retail price? $2000. Now I really feel the power.

Me- Ben, I’m supposed to mash the potatoes for dinner. I have no clue how this is done. Can you do it?
Ben- Oh my God, are you really that stupid?
Me- Yes. I’m that dumb.
Ben- I cannot believe how stupid you are.
Me- I know, me neither. But can you please, PLEASE do it? Mum is gonna be furious if it’s not done.
Grumbles and groans ensue as Ben prepares the mashed potatoes.
Ben- You are SO DUMB. Like seriously, the dumbest person ever.
Me- You really think so?
Ben- You can’t even mash potatoes, you’re useless.
Me- Obviously not, my corpulent compadre. You see, I knew how to mash the potatoes all along. Thank you for completing the last of my chores for me. You have been had, my friend. YOU HAVE BEEN HAD.
I jump off of the counter and skip merrily into the next room.