This is at the end of Kellie’s street. Jerk. (Taken with instagram)
I survived!
I would have said it was pretty awful - the poky metal xray bits! the scrapey mini-scythe and its screeeee of horror! the painful ultrasonic waterpik! - but as soon as I got home with a Ham & Cheese Sub of Comfort I saw a friend on Facebook post about needing a root canal and ok, fine, perspective.
It’s my fault for staying away so long but it took f o r e v e r and as I guessed there are many new visits in my future to fill my multiple cavities (but no ghosts!).
But there is this thing they do now where they measure your gum pockets to assess if you have gum disease. It’s a two man operation, with the dentist poking me in the pockets and calling out numbers to the hygienist. Beforehand he tells me lower numbers are better and anything under 5 is OK. Of course then I’m lying there, mouth agape and drooly, listening to this Bingo-calling bastard and feeling undeservedly proud/disappointed in myself depending on the numbers.
2,2,2,2,2,2,2!
I have a dentist appointment in an hour and I am freaking out. I haven’t been in mumblety years and so I’m convinced it will be four drooly hours strapped in a chair with nothing but my own thoughts and searing pain.
Also, you know there’s never such a thing as one visit to the dentist. You go for your cleaning and afterwards they’re like, oh, turns out you have cholera of the tooth, or half your teeth are broken or I think I saw a ghost in there and BAM, a month’s worth of visits on your calendar.
And then there’s the Health Care Privilege guilt. I’m lucky I can even go to the dentist. Some people have to brush their teeth with sticks and mint leaves, you ungrateful monster.
If you hear screaming in the West Village this afternoon, I apologize in advance.
So it looks crazythin like a bar pie but the crust is chewy not crispy. Yum. (Taken with Instagram at Sally’s Apizza)
The next morning, Hotz stood in his parents’ kitchen and hit “Record” on a video camera set up to face him. He had unruly curls and wispy chin stubble, and spoke with a Jersey accent. “Hi, everyone, I’m geohot,” he said, referring to his online handle, then whisked an iPhone from his pocket. “This is the world’s first unlocked iPhone.
“
| — |
George Hotz, Sony, and the Anonymous Hacker Wars : The New Yorker I’m just starting to read the May 7th issue of the New Yorker because I’m old fashioned and like to read it on paper. I’m only at the first feature and only four paragraphs in and my outrage wire gets tripped. As someone who grew up in New Jersey, I’m biased, I know! But I actually went and found the video referenced and STFU with the “Jersey accent.” Dude does not talk like Tony Soprano, which is what everyone means by “Jersey accent.” |
Unflattering photos and vapid lists of likes aren’t exactly haunting but this prompted me to go dig up my login and cancel my Myspace account anyway.
I cancelled Friendster a few years ago.
Tick tock, Facebook?
My mother-in-law said, “As far as I know I don’t have any anomalies in the crotch area.
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| — | TSA Found ‘Anomaly’ in Jeffrey Goldberg’s Mother-in-Law’s Crotch Area - National - The Atlantic Wire |
