Age 11: 7 teeth pulled.

Age 11: Braces. Headgear.

Age 13: Braces out. Retainer.

Age 21: Gingival graft. x4. Frenectomy. Mouth guard.

Age 30: Gingival graft.

Age 31: Gingival graft.

Allow me to pause for a moment as I realize that I am, in fact, 31 years old. Shit.

Okay, I’m back. If I put a price tag next to all the dental procedures I have had (so far), I gotta say… I would almost be okay with my teeth falling out. I brush three times a day. I floss. I wear my mouth guard every night. Gum recession happens anyway. WTF?!

I used to love going to the dentist, knowing that I was doing all I could to maintain my dental health, leaving the office feeling squeaky clean. Ever since I was little, I knew I was predisposed to having bad gums. Damn genes. Then, factor in that I have a small mouth. After my baby teeth fell out, my adult teeth decided to revolt and grow out on top of each other. Braces were required. And getting the braces required that I get even more teeth pulled. I thought it was over, until it turned out that my gums decided to revolt. Yuck. I won’t even go into what a gingival graft is. Suffice to say that it’s nasty. But it’s also cool.

I most recently had a gingival graft last Friday. I hope its my last one EVER. After the novocaine shots–a few on the gums and a few into the roof of the mouth–the procedure itself is painless. You just kind of lay there while your gums get cut up, your tooth root gets scraped, the roof of your mouth gets cut up, and then the periodontist painstakingly sews it all up with a small hook-shaped needle and thread. Oh, sorry. I said I wasn’t gonna get into it. The best part is when you’re done and you sit up, look down at the giant bib, and see all the blood. Delicious.

One of the kind of awesome things about this past procedure and the one before is that my periodontist (who is really awesome) used porcine stem cells for the procedure. I try not to think too hard about the fact that I have an animal’s stem cells living in my mouth, mostly because it’s amazing. I mean, there are people who are growing teeth in dogs using stem cells. Soon, we may be able to GROW TEETH instead of getting false ones. Cuh-razy.

But anyway, here’s the deal, kids: Take care of your teeth. Brush them. Floss at least once a day and floss the “right” way. I either get yelled at for not flossing enough or for flossing too hard. Listen to your dentist. My dentist is harsh, but she’s honest. And if she, my orthodontist, and my periodontist have been in cahoots to get me to shell out cash for procedures I don’t need… that is just way too clever of a conspiracy and I choose to believe that every procedure I have had has been necessary lest I end up with false teeth by age 35. Also, if you or someone you love grinds their teeth, tell your dentist or, at the very least, buy yourself a mouth guard from the drug store (but really, tell your dentist). I wake up with major headaches and achy teeth sometimes from all the tooth grinding. It’s rough on my gums.

Don’t take your teeth for granted!

P.S. I can’t wait until I can smile normally again. I’m going to look grumpy for the next two weeks because the procedure makes it hard for me to contort my mouth into a smile. Oh, well!

Niece: What’s that? Stories?
Me: Kind of. Do you remember my friend Christie?
Niece: Uh huh.
Me: This is a blog or web site that I write with her. We write about food.
Niece: And you take pictures?
Me: Yes, we take pictures and we post recipes.
Niece: You post them online?
Me: Yup.
Niece: What’s Facebook?
Me: Stay away from Facebook.
Niece: I can spell Facebook without looking. F-A-C-E-B-O-O-K.
Me: Great. Stay away from Facebook.
Niece: Can I play with your iPod?
Me: I don’t know… CAN you?
Niece: I don’t—MAY I?
Me: Here you go.
Niece: Can I take a picture?
Me: Go ahead.

…AAAAND… scene.

This post isn’t about my body. It’s about my mind, my skills, my potential. It’s also about trust and confidence.

I gave a presentation at work this week. I was anxious in the week leading up to it. I feel spastic when I present. Am I talking too fast? Am I pronouncing words correctly? Do I make sense? Am I making eye contact? Will I be able to answer the questions that are asked of me? Once I started the presentation, I felt good. I knew the material really well, so that helped. Was I as prepared as I hoped I would be? No. But I got through it. I got through the whole hour. People laughed. They engaged in discussion. They clapped and thanked me. I got some immediate feedback from a few team members. Later in the day, I met with my boss and he gave me good feedback as well.

What really did me in is when my boss’s boss talked to me about the presentation. If anyone would give me constructive criticism or be frank about skills that need improvement, it would be her. I was elated when I realized that she had only good things to say. She had heard through the grapevine that I was nervous, and she asked me if that was true. I told her it was. She said she couldn’t believe it.

I suppose I never worry that I’m too full of myself. Even back in my music competition days, I won a lot of 1st prize trophies… but in my head, there had never been that perfect performance. I can always do better. Always. Thus, despite all the great feedback I got on my presentation, I can’t help but think about what I will do differently so that my next presentation is better. On the other hand, without that feedback, I would still be thinking that the presentation was a disaster that nobody enjoyed.

I don’t like soliciting feedback. It scares me. I don’t want to hear anything bad. I don’t want to be patronized. I just want the truth. And the truth can be harsh. It really can. But the truth can be amazing, and hearing what other people have to say is one of the ways that we improve ourselves. It’s how we find out what we’re good at. It’s how we open our eyes to opportunities. I look to my trusted friends and to those I respect for an honest opinion. Here’s the thing: whenever there is anything less than positive to say, it is immediately followed with advice or questions to help me be better. It’s what we should all do for one another: tell people how wonderful they are and help them to become better people.

I will admit that I avoid anyone with negative energy or anyone who makes me feel badly about myself. I think it’s a courageous thing to do: sometimes it means ending relationships with people we love. But I depend on people to tell me who I am. After all, I’m nothing if I’m not around others, making an impact on their lives. I need them to ease my anxiety, affirm my attributes, point out my flaws, and even suggest paths and actions that I would never think of on my own.

People are my mirror. I am a mirror to other people. So, listen to what people have to say, and be thoughtful with what you say to others. It matters. Don’t hesitate to tell someone when they have done a good job. It may mean the world to them.

In 2000, my mom took me shopping on a day so snowy and crazy that the mall closed early, but not before I found the perfect little black dress for a party I was invited to by my crush.

In 1999, I went on a road trip with my sister and two cousins to Indianapolis for a Backstreet Boys concert (yeah, yeah, hilarious). We stayed there two nights. On the second night, the weather was insane, but we still drove to the drive through liquor store to get some beers. That was an awesome trip. It’s one of those things that I can’t believe we did, especially in those conditions. It makes for a great memory, though.

In 2009, my niece Juliana was born. It snowed that night. Having been born in August, I can maybe brag that it was sunny. I think snow makes for a cooler birth story.

In 1999, there was a snowstorm so bad that it forced everyone to stay in. My family and I hung out in the basement, played mahjong, and drank. Then, once the snow stopped and the alley and streets were clear enough so that we could go somewhere (and the piled up snow was taller than I was), we went shopping. We were carefree and simply enjoying each other’s company.

In elementary school, we used to play on the snow mounds made by the snowplows at the end of the parking lot during recess.

In 1994, I have this distinct memory of having walked in snow that was up to my crotch. I was wearing my school uniform: red plaid skirt, white tights, and boots. It was a wild thing for me to do, but a much more efficient way to get into the car versus walking around the snow.

For many years, the Zoo Lights Festival at Lincoln Park Zoo was something I loved to visit. Hanging out at the zoo, in the city, at night. Having hot cocoa and snuggling with someone you like or love. Bundled up in a great jacket, wrapped in a scarf, wearing gloves and earmuffs.

I was tickled to see people sledding and even skiing in a park by my parents’ house the day after the most recent snowfall. What a reward to enjoy the snow with your family and friends after a dreadful commute the day before.

I dread winter, I worry about driving in the snow, but I love winter in Chicago. I love that a little snow doesn’t stop us. I love how my snot freezes up when its below zero. I love sweaters and my puffy jackets and my wool coats. I love the feeling of turning off my car after driving through snowfall. I love snowmen and snowladies and snowpants.

So, let it snow, Chicago. Let it snow. Just try to snow on days or times when I don’t absolutely need to drive. And be kind to Lake Michigan and Lake Shore Drive.

I am a dreamer. I am an observer. My heart races when I consider the possibilities; when I imagine what it would be like to be a part of it all. Swimming provides a perfect metaphor. First of all, I’m never comfortable in swimwear, no matter what the circumstances are. Secondly, I don’t know how to swim. So, even after I have worked up the courage to go from dipping my toes in to immersing my entire body underwater, I am never really swimming. I’m just in the water, never going to the deep end, fearing for my life  if I find myself there anyway, almost jealously resenting those who are able to swim.

It’s weird: I think I’m as scared of success as I am of failure. Furthermore, I don’t particularly enjoy being the center of attention, which makes me the antithesis to my fellow Leos. Here’s the thing, though… I have been delighted lately. By my friends, by trying things I have never tried before, by letting loose and having fun, by learning that someone I already thought was interesting was so, so much more than I could have ever imagined them to be. All this delight has changed me. I want to stand out. I want to succeed.

We all have goals, but everything that is great or exciting in my life are things that I never sought to have. That says a lot, because I truly have crazy hopes, dreams, and fantasies that I keep close to my heart. So I’m learning to inch closer to the deep end. To trust someone who is a great swimmer instead of clinging to someone else who can’t swim, either. There’s a lot of positive energy with the swimmers and a lot to lean.

There’s a quote attributed to Neil Gaiman that I’m using as my mantra right now:

“If you dare nothing, then when the day is over, nothing is all you will have gained.”

I don’t want to watch anymore. I want to be a part of it. I want to see something I want and go after it. Yes, the best things in my life have been surprises. But I’m ready to start swimming, both literally and figuratively. Okay, maybe not literally. I REALLY don’t like swimwear.

I clearly remember the moment that John Mayer got to me and tugged at my heartstrings. I was waiting in the car for my sister, and The Heart of Life came on. I found myself listening to the lyrics, really listening. Before I could stop myself, I was crying like a mofo. And I wasn’t even having a bad day!

I hate to see you cry
Laying there in that position
There’s things you need to hear
So turn off your tears and listen

Pain throws you heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No, it won’t all go the way, it should
But I know the heart of life is good

You know it’s nothing new
Bad news never had good timing
But then the circle of your friends
Will defend the silver lining

Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No, it won’t all go the way, it should
But I know the heart of life is good

It’s a simple song with a good message. It lifts me up whether I need a boost or not. It’s a nice surprise whenever it pops up on iPod shuffle, like it did today and thus triggered my desire to blog about it. It’s best consumed in moderation. I don’t want it to go all Why, Georgia, Why on me. And, listen. At least I didn’t tattoo the lyrics on my arm.

Lane: “I’m so jealous. That’s it, I need to get some dumb, ugly friends!”

I can relate to this in a way, but do I really want dumb, ugly friends? Uh… not really! Does that make ME the dumb, ugly friend? Who cares? My friends are the best. They motivate me and support me and want me to be the best I can be. I learn so much from them. I can only hope that they learn from me, too.

If I am who my friends are, then I must be doing something right. I’m so grateful to have found (or, really, been found by) true kindred spirits and soul-friends. All it took was opening my mind, opening my heart, reaching out to people with whom I want to be friends (no matter how intimidated I may feel), and being myself. Yes, kids. Listen to your teachers and parents and mentors when they tell you to be yourself. Let your freak flag fly!

So… thank you to my friends. You know who you are. I love you guys.

Thumpety poo poo, thumpety poo poo
Look at diarrhea go!
Thumpety poo p0o, thumpety poo poo
Over the hills of diarrheaaaaaaaaahhh!!

May your holidays be merry!

How to be rude:
1. Find lady.
2. Say loudly and with attitude, “You forgot your keys. Didn’t you notice? You better go back and get it!”

How to be nice:
1. Find lady.
2. Say, “Excuse me,” and tap her gently on shoulder if necessary. Keep in mind that some people don’t like to be touched so use your best judgement.
3. Say nicely, “You left your keys back there!”

How would you prefer to be approached if you had left your keys at security?

Um… I am grateful for sunshine, um, for, uh, scrunchies, and, uh…. contact lenses.

I have my stop-and-smell-the-roses days where I step back and take in how lucky I am. I also have my everyone-sucks-and-what-did-I-do-to-deserve-such-crap days. Lately, though, I’ve felt so enormously grateful. Despite my hardships, which really are minor even though they are a big deal to me, my heart has managed to be warmed by something everyday. Did I really just write that? How cheesy! My point is, nothing extraordinary has happened to me lately. I whine and rant all the time. But the “ordinary” things in my life are so good that it’s almost shocking.

I started writing a post recently that was going to be a wish list of sorts: a post about the things in my life that I felt I was lacking. And then I realized that the greatest things in my life are things I never wished for. They just happened. I’m grateful! And I feel so lucky.

Lucky to be close to my family.

Lucky to have genuine friends who challenge me to be a better person but love me just as I am.

Lucky to be around people who make me laugh.

Lucky that I’m able to make other people laugh.

Lucky for little nieces and a baby nephew.

Lucky for my health even though I’m not so great at taking care of myself.

Lucky to have a job that I like.

Do I have everything I want? No. No, I don’t. But, I’m lucky to have the things that I have. Now… if only I could get lucky, things would be nearly perfect…. ahem. Bye!