Woe could be me, but it's not.

A funny thing happened on the way to a post. Blogger is being a bear and not letting me put up pictures. Grr. I've tried the three at once, then one at a time, and nothing works. I really hate that, because it's not like I'm loading 5 pictures at a time several times a day. My Simply Lacy socks are done and on my feet, and you'll just have to take my word for it. There's some other socks needing mending, and a few Christmas things to knit up as well.

So anyway...

There's going to be a knock-down dragout tomorrow when Fry gets off the bus and she doesn't even know it, yet. The Sims 2: Pets is arriving sometime tomorrow. Sadly, our computer chair has wheels, so she can pull me away from the keyboard. Happily, the mouse is wireless. Let's just SEE her pry it from my clawed up hand. It'll be like us fighting over the last Diet Pepsi on Christmas Eve. No stores are open the next couple of days, then, so the fight is a bad one. ;) Noogies, half-Nelsons, wet Willies, Indian sunburns, it's obviously NOT pretty.

What will actually happen is, I'll play the game just to get her a cool little pet store set up in her own neighborhood. Then, when she's home, I'll have her a drink and snack ready, and tell her she needs to play Sims without letting her in on the news. Her bedtime is 9pm, so I'll get the computer again, then.

Why have I not been blogging? Well, I'd been cleaning, seeing the gals at the Sit, Sip, and Knit, signing up for the Studio's knitting retreat (but haven't reserved the rooms just yet), falling down the stairs a little bit, and having my mouth given the jack o'lantern treatment by the dentist.

What was that, you say? Falling down the stairs? Why yes, I did a little bit. I was telling Fry something, standing on what I thought was the second from the bottom stair, then stepped back onto what I thought was the main floor but was really air. Usually, I'm much better at catching myself, but down I went. My foot, knee, and hand hurt. The fun thing was, my Hubs was on the phone to his parents, hung up really fast, and ran over to assist. Sweet, but not so sweet when he called them back later and had me tell them what happened. Not in a mean way, but in a hear it from the horse's mouth sort of way. His mom and I commiserated over how fun it was to be put on the spot and having to admit one's gracelessness. My toe, already dodgy from a childhood horse tank incident, is the only thing feeling the pain, still. I'll pause here to let my Mom finish laughing over the 'incident'. Let's just say that a child should not flail around in a horse tank full of water when said child is a goof. I was going to type 'blithering idiot', but I'm not an idiot. Blithering, yes, idiot, no.

So anyway, the worst bruises are the two on my hiney cheeks. Yes, I know, TMI. They're from bumping into corners and cabinet door handles while running around the house cleaning, painting, and all that. Obviously, I'm not used to this much 'junk' in my trunk or I wouldn't keep whomping it on various obstacles.

Whew. Now, let's go on to yesterday's agony and embarrassment. I'm sure my dentist loves me, especially when I squall out during the deadening shots. Four of them, some of which HAD to be in my cheekbone, and none of them painless. At least they weren't in the palette, those hurt more than anything. He came at me with the needle before I was numb good from the goo, and I squawked, "Not dead yet! Not dead!" I still wasn't dead even after he waited a couple more seconds (but I'm not bitter), so I'm gargling with super strength Anbisol on Monday when I get to go back to have the scaling done on the left side. Yes, I'll drool, but then, that's so much better than the screaming, don't you think? The above website would have you believe that just by brushing and flossing, a person can avoid gum disease. Not true. When I had braces, I brushed and flossed after every meal, avoided food in between meals because it meant more 'tooth' time, and for what? My teeth were perfect, maybe a cavity from the braces, but the gums? They're measured on a 1 to 5 scale, from good to bad, and the best I ever did were some ones, some twos, but mostly threes. I'd waited a couple of years between cleanings, which is why this one was so bad, and will be again on Monday. The best thing was, Fry was home from a stomach flu (oh soooo bad), and Hubs came home to make sure everyone had chicken soup and 7-up. They both hugged on me, particularly since my eyes wouldn't stop watering. I wasn't crying, just had watery eyes. Even now, my teeth are great, the bad tooth doesn't hurt, but the jaw muscles ache like crazy. Tension is a bad thing sometimes.

We were all expecting me to get a root canal, but the scaling fixed the tooth. Hubs was saying all this pain from one shot, and I replied, no, from four. Then, the scraping under the gum line. He and Fry have cavity prone teeth, but fantastic gums, I have the reverse. Too bad for Fry she didn't get the good teeth AND good gums.

I could go into the whole thing about how I've noticed (as have other brainer types) that circulatory problems and periodontal problems seem to be related. The gums warn you for later in life. Maybe they're on the same gene. It's probably time for me to consider heart health instead of using my 'youth' as an excuse to be lazy. ;)

Something fun and true today:

What kind of yarn are you?

You are Shetland Wool. You are a traditional sort who can sometimes be a little on the harsh side. Though you look delicate you are tough as nails and prone to intricacies. Despite your acerbic ways you are widely respected and even revered.


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