msbelle, I continue to be touched by you and Mac. Even though I figured it would happen, that you would adopt a child, I just couldn't have predicted how...I don't know...beautiful it would be.
I think my parents think I drink too much, but I think I'm 37 and I don't drink at home. So, a few mimosas, alcohol in the egg nog, alcohol in the sorrell--that's perfectly normal. In days gone by, they'd already have spiked the nog and sorrell. It's just that they drink less. I don't have to.
Also I seem to recall being 37, but my conviction on the importance and relevance of that does waver a bit.
On my most recent trip to the dentist, which was something like 7 years since the last one, the dentist told me something very interesting about pain in the mouth.
He says that the nerves in teeth have only pain receptors, so any sensation at all is registered as pain. I never really thought about what other sensations my teeth have ever experienced, but now that he mentions it...
ita! When I got to the resort in Mexico last week the first thing they did was bring us cold glasses of sorrell. Only they called it Jamaica tea. Still good.
Crap. I think I need to caffeinate myself again.
Good idea. Maybe I'll go to Starbucks. That should kill 10 minutes or so.
Happy Birthday to Theodosia and Jesse (and Rayne, of course!)!!
Just caught up on five days worth of Natter, and all I can think to comment on is the way my mom keeps pushing liquor on me this week. "You want a beer? Wine? How about some of this Baileys, or maybe this new drink I just tried last week?" And she's not a lush by any stretch of the imagination, but this is part of the ingrained hostess in her. I keep on telling her I really don't drink much at home, and just having lunch or dinner with her here at her house feels too much like hanging at my place for me to feel comfortable boozing it up overly (although I did join her in a beer for dinner last night).
We had my brother and his family over for Xmas eve (the 13-y.o. niece loved the music-themed bracelet I got her), so that was fun. Christmas mass was hard for Mom, who told me afterwards she occasionally cries in church since her husband died before Labor Day. I'm hoping I'm helping her some by being here, but she has other stressors going on that I can't really ease for her much.
Oh, well--we're heading out in a bit to meet Big Bro and the family for dinner and then we're taking the kids to "A Night at the Museum," which I've heard isn't all that hilarious, but it's something all three of them want to see, including the 16-y.o. who's sans girlfriend this week and so is willing to spend some time with the family.
That should kill 10 minutes or so.
I'm working as slowly as I possibly can, and I'm not sure I can make it stretch until quitting time. I've been trying not to read Yuletide at work, but I'm probably going to cave soon.
Now what? More coffee? Another cigarette? I haven't done any window gazing yet - maybe I'll tackle that next.
At our house, you could do both at the same time. We have a window with a fantastic view of LA from just west of downtown, all the way to the ocean (on really good days). That window also happens to be the smoking section of the house.
shrift, I once went to the dentist (U of M dental school) and the student dentists were waiting so long for the prof to come check their work, the anesthesia wore off. When they started to drill again, I screamed, and the fuckhead prof came back, grabbed me by the face (which was in a lot of pain, remember?) and told me not to scream as there were other patients within earshot.
I could have gladly ripped his balls off too.
Skipping ahead to wish Rayne, Theo and Jesse the happiest of birthdays.
I'm back home. Does my type look different? I don't want to go back to work ever again.
