Duck SinisterI went to the dentist today to get my new crown installed... and now the drama of my second lower right molar is over. Which leaves me plenty of time now to start thinking about my other teeth. They're a total mess: I have one tooth gone from when I broke my second lower left molar and had to have it extracted, but I never had it replaced by either bridge or implant, and now the second top left molar is drifting down to fill the space; my first top right molar has a cavity the size of the Grand Canyon in it, from where an old filling came out, and in which large chunks of food are wont to hide until I brush my teeth or am eating something else that doesn't taste good with the previous food; and there are numerous and various other little holes and cracks here and there. I have weak teeth to begin with, and am very forgetful about brushing and flossing, and I have always gone as long as I could between dentist's visits. But now I have a dentist I like, and can pretty much afford to see him regularly now, so I hope that will all change.
The reason I bring this up (aside from grossing you out) is that, in one of the rooms of my dentist's office there is a picture of a wild duck and her ducklings cuddled together... it's a very nice room, considering its purpose, with a bay window overlooking a busy street with plenty to look at; but when you're being worked on you can't see out the window, because the dentist would be in the way, and you would be facing upward instead of forward. So when one is laying back, the choices of things to look at are limited to either the dentist (and it's rude to stare at people when they are working), the light-fixtures, the blank ceiling, or the picture of the ducks.
And so I have spent a good deal of time staring at these ducks lately... and not just staring at them, but staring at them through a haze of nitrous oxide. And let me tell you, those are some sinister fucking ducklings. You wouldn't think something as cute and cuddly as a baby duck could look sinister... but these are baby ducks with an evil purpose, a hidden agenda, an axe to grind. It's partly due to their markings (they have dark v-shaped lines over the bill and eyes that imitate villainously arched eyebrows), and partly due to their cloudy-looking eyes (with the exception of certain predators, wild animals almost always have black eyes, but these ducks were obviously shot with a photo flash, and their retinas reflect a lot of opalescent blue), and partly due to the fact that I am always just a little bit stoned when I look at them.
Whatever the reason, though, I think I am going to bring a new picture for the wall when I visit next. A little watercolor landscape, a nice Impressionist, a quiet forest glade, whatever. Because those ducks make me very uneasy. Angry, secretive, sinister ducks.
Well anyway... so the Boss Lady got back from vacation today, and so we know where we stand regarding her resignation and what we're going to do in the near future. It's going to be a little chaotic, but it won't be deadly. And as I was telling my coworker today, if we don't like it, we can resign too. It gives a lot better perspective on job troubles to know that, even if you can't really afford it and even if the economy is shitty, you can always just walk right out. All you have to do is decide if staying is more trouble than being unemployed. And all practicality aside, there is no need to get one's panties in a bunch over a silly job. I've been poor before, I can do it again... and I'd rather be poor than put-upon, you know?
So I did a little more playing around with my new digital camera, here at the office and at home, and am starting to understand why I usually photograph so badly... it's because I make these faces that I think are "smiling" or "thoughtful," but they really aren't... they're grimaces and slackness in various unflattering combinations. The pictures I took yesterday evening (or "yestere'en" as they used to say) turned out much the way I look to myself in the mirror, and were a lot more attractive than the more "posed" pictures that I have taken or posed for in the past. And all I had to do was set the timer, face the camera, relax completely, look down, think about a joke or a funny picture or something, and then look up just before the flash goes off. Like this:
I was so relieved to find that I'm not really as ugly as I look in most of my pictures... I was beginning to worry that I wasn't seeing myself clearly in the mirror, that I'd contracted some form of psychosis that led me to look differently in the mirror than I do in real life. I like this above picture so much that I'm thinking about using it in my Cast column in the near future. In fact, I plan to do some housekeeping on my website pages this weekend... update this blog with newer daily reads and deleting dead links, update my gallery more, update some of my "About" information, add some new quotes to the hub page. I'll let you know when I do it.
Well, let's see, what else is going on today? I'm thinking about taking this dance class, but the only time it is offered is on Saturday morning... at eight a.m.! I really want to take the class... it's one of my 2003 Goals, plus I want something that will not only enhance my performance style but will help me increase my cardio strength and help trim some of the pudge off my torso without developing upper-body muscles that I don't want developed (cut biceps and deltoids are not feminine, and I don't want to have to add sleeves to all my gowns... plus, a flabby tummy can be tucked into a corset and made to disappear, but a muscled stomach cannot... I would like to be in good shape, but I still want to have an elegant figure for drag).
On other hand, it's at eight a.m.! That's practically the middle of the night! I suppose I could take this kind of class in a private school that might have a more humane schedule, but that would cost a whole hell of a lot more than the $13 unit fee plus $22 campus use fees that taking the Laney class would entail. And I could conceivably make getting up in the mornings a part of my daily lifestyle... nobody ever died from getting up early in the morning. Anyway, I have to decide by tomorrow. I think I will do it, but I'm putting off the committment as long as I can.
Well, I guess that's all I have to talk about today. I'll pop in again tomorrow and say something else. Or maybe I won't. I don't want to committ to that, either. Not that I have a problem with committment, mind you... I just don't like getting your hopes up or making promises I can't deliver. It has nothing whatsoever to do with my crippling emotional immaturity. Really. Swear to God.
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