Ranting, Gay Neighbors and Kitchen Creations

Why is all shit so hard?  I just got off the phone with a new dentist office. First off, I should explain why I'm on the prowl for a new dentist.  For sake of not getting myself into a slander law suit we'll let this cat remain nameless.  My first trip to see him I schedule because he's the only one that doesn't require xrays for a damn cleaning (but there is no free lunch). At the end of said cleaning he comes in, introduces himself, starts poking around in there, says something about nice teeth.  Then he asks if they are real...Um...you're the dentist...shouldn't you know??  He then proceeds to EYEBALL about 5 places that need filling...but "they are small so we won't even need Novocaine".  WTF.  I did a filling replacement one time without Novocaine.  I'm one tough chicky but trust me I used that as a learning experience and ain't gonna do it again.  I make a mental post it to find new dentist.  Luckily when I check out the computers are down and the tech guy is there trying to remove the porn, so I just say I'll call back for my appointment to fill the zillion cavities sans Novocaine.  Fast forward about 9 months cause who are we kidding I don't have dental insurance and every 6 months is just crazy talk.  I call around to get an appointment somewhere else only to be beat down by a self overrated receptionist.  Apparently the other option dentist won't even make you an appointment unless you agree to the xrays beforehand. 

F my life people!  I just want my teeth cleaned!!  So I'm back to the "are your teeth real guy"...again.  Fast forward to today.  Trying to set up the appointment somewhere new...yet again.  March is the soonest they can work me in.  So I book it, explain that I do not have insurance and ask how much money to bring. 275 fucking dollars.  Yo, I didn't ask when your car payment was due.  All you dentists stop poking me in the ass with your big dental dildo....I SAID I DON'T HAVE INSURANCE!! I don't want anything for free...just some nice lady to scrape the little shit off my teeth.  Not to mention if your next available appointment is in F-ing March I think you're already making bank off the insurees and you could cut me a break and skip the goddamn xrays!! I feel better now.  Giving up...gonna stick with the"are those real" guy.

Story from the trailerhood.  The stoner neighbors (pot smoking ones, not to be confused with the crackhead)have the most annoying dog ever. And you know me...I love, love, love animals but Sparky is wearing me out.  We have Sparky, Spot and Shorty...all within a block radius and all apparently with unimaginative parents.  Sparky though is gay.  Not gay like hey its my preference and I decorate and dress nicely, but like GAY all up in your face.  Poor Roger can't even step out the front door, walk or potty in peace.  This guy is all over him..trying to hump him and give head.  The head portion of the show has my dog WAY confused.  He's on the leash, I'm yelling "Just keep walking or bite the fucker!"  and he's looking at me like "I know its wrong but it feels good mom" all the while still  trying to walk.  Which I'm sure is difficult at best...I mean I can only imagine...I've never exactly tried to walk while getting head but I would guess its tough.  We finally loose him when Roger finally breaks away to pee, narrowly missing his head...we leave him licking the puddle.  Years of therapy ain't gonna help this dog...he's jacked up.

Finally...onto my rockin' culinary skills.  Last week, out of sheer necessity, I discovered a new lunch time treat.  My creativity flowed mainly because I was down to a pack of ramen noodles, one can of beef-a-roni, tuna and gatorade.  This is no exaggeration, trust  me.  It's not that I'm poor, it's just that  I possess the meal planning skills of the average everyday buzzard with ADD or possibly a drug addiction.  So I open the tuna, dump it in a bowl with some ranch dressing, shredded cheese and hot sauce. Even with no real groceries I still have a corner market on condiments.  Throw it in the microwave and eat it with some tostidos.  OMG I AM GENIUS!!  It's a Tuna Miracle Charlie Brown!!  Needless to say I went to the store for more tuna and have had it 3 more times since then. 
Watch out Martha Stewart...I'm hot on your tail chickadee.

Finally

This is attempt #3 of getting my angry Grinch thoughts on paper.  My first two sounded like whiny my pussy's broke melodramatics...and you know how I feel about that.  My realization came yesterday on the drive to work.  It's not the first time this week that I've said this, but its the first time I realized it also applies to me and my fa-la-la-la-la funk.  If you don't like something there are only 2 things you can do.  Either change your situation or change your mind.  I think it goes without saying that I can not change the situation of virginal birth nor the widespread two thousand some years of acceptance and the resulting over spending and hall decking and reindeers.  I have no other choice than to change my mind.  That does not mean that I'll be rushing out to hunt down the perfect million foot tall tree or load a shopping cart full of dust collectors for my great aunt so and so, my mail lady or my gynecologist.  Just that I am letting go of expectations.  Expectations of feelings...the same feelings that have always plagued this time of year for me.  I'm not going to rehash memories of past...I'm not going to try to avoid or ignore.  Just taking my hands off the wheel.

Oooh Oooh Blame Me...Blame Me

I for one and, almost exclusively, only do not have a single thing that causes me to point an accusing finger and shout "THIS IS FUCKED UP AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!!"  I am fully aware that although I seldom feel like it, I am an adult and I all by my wee little self create my life...the good and the questionable of it.  I am responsible...for Me.  That's unfortunately the extent of my magical super powers. 

It's been brought to my attention via email from Mr X that Mr Man's Ms X is on yet another tear.  This one as with all the others has one center of all gravitational pull.  Me.  What I'm sick of is sheep minded people crying over spilled milk, skunt knees and questionable relationships.   Shut up, stand up and everybody take responsibility for your own lives and your own choices.  The Heather has nothing to do with any of it.  I suppose it helps people feel better to be able to devoid themselves of any cause of the effect.  And maybe not looking in the mirror is therapeutic but you run the risk of walking out with you skirt tucked into your undies...and you wind up showing your ass.  I only wish I were as powerful and influencingly hypnotic as people claim that I am.  I feel sandwiched somewhere between being grateful that I'm not an idiot and are more enlightened than most and just wanting to swift kick the world in the f-ing nuts.