One of my left molars presently resembles a cross-section of the Grand Canyon, complete with a little Colorado River of dried blood at the base. I bit into something last night — it was probably the third or fourth piece of Laffy Taffy, now that I think about it –, and managed to knock a huge chunk right out. I don’t know exactly which piece of Taffy because I didn’t even notice I was missing the chunk until I ran my tongue over the tooth; apparently it’s so rotted that I don’t even feel it when parts break off. Even more disturbing is that I was initially nonplussed by this discovery, as it was the second time I had discovered a piece of the tooth missing in the past few months.
I am going to receive a little over a grand for my tax refund, and am owed almost that much in tuition reimbursement from work. And how do I plan on spending this sum as large as the bill for a root canal?
That’s right, bitches: Vacations and Take-Out Meals. AWWW, YEAH.
Music for this week is Ms. Mitchell, because I’m out of fresh ideas. You’ve all heard this song; you just haven’t heard it live.
Music this week is also brought to you by the grace and beauty of an Ashley Mix CD. Occasionally, I think this song would strike me more deeply if it were interpreted with a little more bitterness than it is here. But Meg Baird’s version is still beautifully melancholic and resigned. You’ll want to minimize your browser so you don’t have to watch the YouTube video, though. And fast-forward through the first 10 or so seconds so your first impression isn’t sullied by Orlando Bloom’s insulting line delivery.