Wash ,'Bushwhacked'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Thank god for gold crowns!
I broke a back molar (on quinoa salad...be afraid, be very afraid) but not so you could see it on an xray. For *8* years, I struggled with stupid dentists saying,"No, we just need to replace the filling."
Could not chew on the left side of my mouth without getting a shooting pain.
Finally, Dr. Bleecher, (a cosmetic dentist, no less) listened to my woe and gave me a gold crown. Ah. Bliss.
I'm ignoring all the dentist talk while I munch caramel corn. . .
{{{Heather and Mr. H}}}}
Someone remind me I'll be happier if I do some work today instead of just obsessively checking my gmail and staring at my phone willing it to ring already.
(I'm entered in a writing contest where "finalists will be notified by phone or email on our about April 20." If I final in the Georgian/Regency/Victorian category, I get read by an editor at NAL/Signet. If I final in the special Legend category for the best hero, I get read by someone at St. Martin's.)
We could will your phone to ring in shifts, Susan, to give you a little more work time.
I like brenda's idea.
Get some work done, Susan, the phone always rings when you're busy, anyhow.
Will try to work after I finish eating lunch. Thanks for the ring~ma!
PSA for other arachnophobes: don't look at the cover of the brand-new issue of National Geographic that just hit the stands. (I'm assuming looking inside would be bad too, but didn't pick up the magazine with the giant crawling tarantula!! up to find out.
So the tooth discussion finally prompted me to make a dentist appointment, which I've been meaning to do since we moved, but just never got around to.
cover of the brand-new issue of National Geographic
I saw that and thought of you, Jilli. Fortunately my own phobia has shrunk to the point where I just blink in surprise when I see pictures anymore. Live versions still freak me the hell out.
I saw that and thought of you, Jilli. Fortunately my own phobia has shrunk to the point where I just blink in surprise when I see pictures anymore.
Well, you know. I'm a wuss about this. Of course, it didn't help that the image on the cover is very similar to part of my recurring nightmare about the dratted things.