YAR, I HATE GOING TO THE DENTIST.
Well, that's not strictly true--actually, I like Dr. Jones himself (no relation to... uh... my pseudonym) a lot. I just don't like the things his assistants do to my teeth. Like buff my teeth with gritty toothpaste until my sinuses vibrate. Ugh.
Still, I got out of there with "perfect gums." And an appointment to get two small fillings. He said it was the tiniest cavity he'd ever seen. Shut up. Also, I mentioned the teeth-grinding thing that The Lovely Emily had confirmed while we were sharing a room in New Orleans, and it looks like I'm going to be getting some kind of mouthguard, because... seriously, it's only going to get worse, if I'm trying to churn out the movie thing this month and the last two chapters of Black Ribbon the next. AND WRITE PAPERS ON MILTON GAH.
(My horoscope today: "Having an artistic spirit isn't enough. Eventually, you'll have to create some art." Shut up, horoscope.)
By the way, I got the distinct impression that the hygienist thought that "when my friend and I were sharing a room" = "lesbians." I don't know why. Like, not that that was a problem for her, it was just one of those, "Ohhhhh, I understand" things. And it's not because I'm butch. Hell, I could stand to be a lot more butch. Maybe it's because--I'm one of those girls who just doesn't care about looking pretty all the time. Or, you know, ever. I don't wear makeup and I'm usually wearing jeans and a T-shirt and as long as I look humanly presentable I seriously do not care, because I've got bigger things to worry about. Like wading through Areopagitica GAH.
I think the whole not-caring-about-looks thing really kicked in senior year of high school, as it does, and got entrenched during college and just never let up. I mean, really, I've never had a job that I had to look "good" or "professional" for; all my meager jobs have been very casual. Maybe it's the realization that I'm probably going to have to promote the book somehow that's got me thinking about it, but since a lot of my favorite knock-around stuff is now more hole than cloth I'm having to overhaul my wardrobe anyway, and I'm thinking about it a bit more seriously than I usually do. And I love (cute, inexpensive) jewelry, and have masses of it, so I'm trying to pick out things that are colors other than blue, which I tend to wear a lot of, so I can use more of my necklaces and bracelets and things. And it's easy to find things that are comfortable but also a little spiffier than your average T-shirt. I mean, all I really have to do is get a few pairs of cute shoes and tops that are slightly more complicated than "cotton V-neck" and make the effort to accessorize, and I'll still look like myself and not like a Stepford Writer or anything.
Hmmm. I have a few really bizarre stories and links to share, but I think I'll do that after dinner... I'm behind on work today as it is.