T h e A d v e n t u r e s o f C h i c a g o J o

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Sparkling Teeth, Not Officially Breaking Lent, and Maybe Running Today

2007-02-22† Ė† 4:35 p.m.
Many years ago when I had braces, the orthodontist made impressions of my teeth for a retainer. The way that works is that the dentist crams a too-large plate into your mouth thatís been overloaded with this sticky goo. Then he asks you to bite down. When you do, your teeth displace the goo, which immediately hits the back of your throat and makes you gag. All the while, heís standing there with his fingers in your mouth, promising that itís finishing up soon, undoubtedly laughing to himself about how he went to school for an additional four years so he could see people look their worst while trying to look their best.

When the top impression is done and the gagging has subsided, you get your bottom impression done. After the nastiness that was the first plate, this one is no big deal. But now that itís done you see how much dried impression goo is all over your mouth, the surrounding face parts, and stuck in your teeth.

That, my friends, is the first step to getting your teeth whitened, since they want to sell you tubes of whitening gel to use at home.

The following steps are equally as unpleasant. The first real step to whitening oneís teeth through this new Zoom! process is to insert a stretchy plastic piece and pulls your lips away from your mouth. Again, Iíve had this done in orthodontics. Itís unpleasant, but itís not that big of a deal.

But once they stuff your mouth full of gauze, build a protective dam-like barrier over your exposed gums, slather your nose and lips with sunscreen, and throw a drop-cloth over the entire area, thatís when itís a big deal. A big, ugly deal.

I had never met this dentist before, having won this Zoom! whitening in a raffle with the big gay chorus. All I really knew about him was that heís a drag queen, so I was quite embarrassed to meet his fabulousness with my mouth pried open, drool everywhere (youíre instructed to ďswallow normallyĒ so you donít disturb any of this stuff, but thatís bullshit), and sunscreen dabbed on my nose. He kept exclaiming that it was working so well, so I just went along with it and rationalized that there was no way I was the worst-looking patient heíd ever met.

Side note: Am I the only person who thinks that way when Iím around medical professionals? Iíve since stopped giving a shit -- especially at the gyno, knowing good and well that my razor burn is nothing compared to the elephantitis of the crotch sheís certainly seen before.

I walked out of there a couple hours later with teeth that glow in the dark and instructions not to eat anything besides white foods for the next 24 hours.

Rice. Pasta. Potatoes. Bread.

These are my favorite foods. Theyíre also absolutely nutrition-free, which kinda bums me out since Iím trying to get all healthy and stuff. Carbs with a side of carbs isnít going to help rid me of my butt flab. Alas, itís just 24 hours. And it doesnít really break Lent since itís under a doctorís orders.

Yesterday I started my Lenten sacrifices by hauling my tush to the gym when I really didnít feel like going. (It was too dark to run outside, despite the nice weather.) I said that all I had to do was go and do what I wanted. Nothing scheduled. Nothing expected. Just go.

The other night I went down the street to run an errand, and I wore new shoes. I purchased these specifically for times when I didnít need to be hip: loafers, no heel, and with cushy insides. These arenít even cute shoes, so I donít know why theyíre being so bitchy. They tore the crap out of my heels, thus making working out no fun for yesterday.

You try squatting with a heavily weighted barbell across your back while your shoes rubbed on open wounds. Youíd cut your workout short too. Now add to it that my death rattle cough started up seven minutes into my treadmill attempt, and I was absolutely pitiful.

Sad but true.

With my workday over and it still being pretty light outside, Iím gonna hustle home to change, attempt a run outside, and then go lift arms weights since those are significantly less likely to make my feet bitch and moan. It canít be as bad as yesterday, so thatís something to look forward to. And if anyone notices that Iím being wiener-y, Iíll just flash them a grin to blind them as I scamper off.

Hope your dogs arenít barkiní. Gínite. †

Miss something?

Moving Day - 2008-02-15
Working from Home is Glorious - 2008-02-13
Speaking in Tongues - 2008-02-07
I Have My Reasons - 2008-01-25
Got an Itch, Fix it, Shine it Up, Sing it Out - 2008-01-23

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