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God bless our dentist’s office for calling to remind people that they have an appointment the following day. After that meeting I listened to the message and thought, “Yikes! I hope I don’t forget that.”

At work this morning I looked at our communication log and thought, “Yikes! I forgot about it already! Thanks, Lauren From The Past for writing it down.” Throughout the day people reminded me, for which I am grateful.

I had three cavities to be fixed. Two were in the same spot – where two molars touch.

The experience was partly cool, but mostly awful. Things have changed since I last had work done. Now they give you sunglasses so your retinas don’t burn out staring at the lights, and they also gave me some sort of jaw brace (think old-school eraser) to bite on to keep my mouth open.

Other than that, same story. Same cactus-like dried tongue just hanging out in my mouth not knowing what to do, same eyes drying out because I don’t blink – I just stare straight up toward my brain (though now I can see the weave of the dentist’s shirt reflected in the sunglasses), and a super-duper bonus, my stuck ear bones turn the drilling and grinding into a ‘my head is stuck in a race car engine’ experience.

Floss. Just floss.

(I will forget to floss.)

A while ago I bought some aborio rice because I had it in my head to try and make risotto. Everybody on those food shows makes it and raves about how amazing it is, so I wanted to try it.

What I really should do is go to a restaurant and taste some made by somebody who knows what they’re doing. My method is to read just enough of a recipe to have a hazy idea, then sally forth. I like to imagine that I’m inventing the recipe, then it’s ok if it goes south. Whatever. It will keep us alive, won’t it? Did you see Castaway? Tom Hanks ate raw fish to stay alive, and not the sushi kind. He would have killed for my crummy cooking.

So, as I’m making it with my eyeballed amounts, I suddenly realize that this going to wind up being a creamy grain. You know what else is a creamy grain?

Oatmeal.

Oatmeal, my slimy nemesis. Gag gag gag.

I pulled the rice off the heat when it was still plenty al dente’ and added some chopped chicken. Then I dished it into bowls and cursed myself for forgetting that we were having beans, too, despite the fact that I had just pulled the beans out of the microwave. So the beans went in the bowls, too.

It was edible. Not the transformative dish I had imagined, but not as gross as oatmeal. I will not ever be making it again.

When I was cleaning up my classroom before school began, I happened to find a brand-new wallet in one of the boxes. I have no idea where it came from, and I hope the person that is missing this wallet never figures out that I have it, because I love it!

I don’t have a picture of my old wallet. It was a folding-thing that was meant to only hold credit cards, but I had jammed so many receipts and dollars in it that it had stretched out. Twice at a store I had cards fall out of it.

So, to find this one seemed like it was just meant to be. It holds three cards on the back, my driver’s license (with my insurance card jammed behind it) in the front window, and has an open-space in the middle for a couple of bills. Perfect!

When I got home I looked up ‘Moneyclamp‘ on the internet, and it turns out that this wallet is part of a money-clip system that has a ‘new-and-improved’ money clip. It holds one dollar as easily as it holds twenty! The design pretty much looks like it’s based on a binder clip.

I’m not a money clip kind of person (girls usually aren’t), but if I had to pay for something really, really expensive – and had the funds – it would be super fun to pay with a big ol’ wad neatly clamped stack of bills.

So, the impatiens have continued to live, and I’d like to thank this little jar for that. In past years when I noticed how they were dying I’d grab something from the kitchen to use, like a 32-ounce cup or something equally functional yet ugly. This year, though, I thought keeping a jar right under the faucet would be good.

It’s sparkly and pretty, and when I see that the flowers are wilting I don’t sigh and think, “Great. Now I’ve got to take care of you.” Instead I think, “Hey! There’s a container already there! I must be a genius – or something equally amazing. Let’s get you guys some agua fresca!”

Remind me to take this thing in when winter comes.

So, I think I’m going to start complaining online about the various things that are going wrong with my body, since Lloyd is pretty sick of hearing it. All ailments are quite minor, so feel free to skip this post entirely, unless you like reading stuff from whiners. Today let’s complain about my toes.

Well, I’ll complain – you just get comfy.

Popcorn?

Probably too early for that.

My bunion hurts. There, I said it. Lauren: never, ever wear those dumb ballet flats longer than a church service. I wore them on Monday and the left one cut right across the nerves on that dumb bump and HUUURT. I put 4 band-aids on but the elastic was still brutal. Idiot.

These pictures are not about something that hurts, but something that is deformed. My ‘little piggie that had none’ is a bit of a hammertoe. I hadn’t really thought about how I have a bottom-of-the-toe callous on the tip of it until I saw what it did to my ancient flip flop. Hmmmmm. That ain’t normal.

I am sparing you a picture of the actual toes. You are welcome.

Sometimes you have a website filled with useless drivel because Real Life on some days is just too ugly to talk about. So, on a day like that you show photos of the ice cream carton you cut through with a knife so you could get to the non-freezer-burnt part so you could eat some ice cream with chopped-up cookies on it while drinking rum, touchy stomach be danged.