Adventures at the Dentist's Office

Hindsight's 20/20. I should have seen those red flags. They were pretty much screaming at me...but did I pay attention? No. Because I had other stuff on my mind. Oh and also because I'm kind of an idiot.

The hard part about moving to a new area of the country (and switching health insurance plans) is that you have to go through the trouble of finding a new kind of doctor for everything. For 21 years I had the same family physician. He was GREAT! And my mom had to shop around A LOT to find someone as good as him. Not only was he brilliant, but he knew my entire history, which really helped when he was trying to diagnose what my problem was when I would go see him. My dentist was the same way. He was mega-boring (I can't count the number of times I heard stories about different tree species and what climates best suit them), but he was really good at what he did. He had an entirely high-tech office (with computerized X-rays that would let him see into my teeth even better than normal X-rays), his hygienists were TOTALLY mean and made you feel like a piece of turd for not flossing as often as you should (which I suppose is a good thing, at least they can see that you're a screwup), and his filling-work was quick and extremely durable. I was sad to say goodbye.

So on my new insurance plan, I was given a list of dentists in the area who accept my insurance. Well, I've been having some serious tooth-grinding issues lately which result in migraines, so I decided it was time to make an appointment for a cleaning and some X-rays to make sure I still had enamel.

PIECE OF ADVICE: Don't ever just go with the first name on the list.

Because that's what I did. I don't know why I didn't just walk out after stepping though the door. Maybe it's because I'm a dummy.

RED FLAG #1:
The dentist's office was in fact a "commodious" double wide. Oh the South. You should never have your teeth touched by people who work in a double wide.

RED FLAG #2:
The double wide had floor-to-ceiling wood panelling. It was kind of like a cabin. But I don't want to get my teeth fixed in a log cabin in the wilderness. But what really gave it that rustic (read: creepy) feel was...

RED FLAG #3:
The deer heads and giant preserved fish that adorned the walls of the wood panelled waiting room. I wonder if he practices dentistry on the animals he preserves.

RED FLAG #4:
The first thing the hygienist says upon opening my mouth is, "OH MAH GAWD! YOU HAVE ALL YOUR TEEEEEETH!"

::sigh::

The fact that someone whose profession includes looking at people's teeth all day long is surprised to have a patient with a full set of teeth is unsettling. More unsettling than that is the fact that she continued to comment on the number of teeth that I have:

"WOOOWWWW!! You got all 28 in there, dontcha? They are just SOOOO STRAIGHT!!" But here's the real kicker. I have a couple of fillings in some molars, and they're filled with porcelain so that they match the color of my teeth. Those kinds of fillings are fairly commonplace in today's world, so a dentist or hygienist should have no problem at all identifying them. Or so you'd think. I learned not to expect too much of anybody...even if it's their job. She said "GAWD, yer fillins are so good that I cain't even see em!"

Great. That makes me feel super awesome.

So I let her clean my teeth and was just hopeful that at least the dentist would know a thing or two. (Ha! There goes my silly imagination again...imagining a world where dentists knew a thing or two about teeth.)

RED FLAG #5: The dentist comes in, opens my mouth to have a look, and what does he say?

"OH WOW! YOU HAVE ALL YOUR TEETH!"

He also looked at my x-rays, told me that because I grind my teeth I have TMJ in my jaw. His brilliant doctor solution (that he went to dental school for) was this: "Stop grinding your teeth. Also, you can take Advil if you need it." BRILLIANT!

On my to-do list? Find a new dentist. Because it's probably a good idea to have a dentist for whom a full set of teeth is not a "rare find."

It's not like I'm an adult capable of having a child or anything...oh wait...

It's like life finds ways of confirming my theories anew every day. Last time, if you recall (and if you don't, just scroll down 1 entry), we discussed how people never mature mentally past the age of 10. Stupid questions. Not following directions. The usual. But because of those people, I am consistently treated like I'm 10. And they assume that they know more about me and the way my body works than I do. What a bunch of sillies.

I went to a "new-patient orientation" at the OB clinic this week. I've discovered that if there is any way to possibly avoid an event or meeting with the word "orientation" in it, that's probably the best option. Because boy was it a good use of my time. *note the sarcasm* We were visited by a lactation consultant, a worker from the clinic, and a nutritionist. HA! Nutritionists are the biggest quacks of them all. She was about 5,000,000 years old (give or take a few years), and she had the most horrible southern twang. The kind that grates on the nerves...all the way down to the depths of your being. Like when you're hungover and you have one of those migraines that pounds behind your eyes and in your ears. That's what her voice was like. Plus she said the word "salmon" exactly how it's spelled which just chaps my ass!

Mispronunciations and horrible accents aside, the worst part was that she talked to us like we were kids in a classroom. Like we were incapable of determining "healthy" from "unhealthy." It's not like we're all adults here having babies and whatnot...oh except we are. And it's not like we've been able to feed ourselves for most of our lives...oh wait! For example:

Nutritionist: Now, can y'all tell me why vegetables are important?

wait...

wait...

Me: because they're good for you.

Nutritionist: yes, very good.

Seriously? that was it? do we really need to be going over this?! I have some better things to do with my time. My favorite part, though, was when she asked about "what's better for you?"

Nutritionist: Now, y'all, what do y'all think is better for you and your baby? A double-chocolate seven layer cake? or an apple?

REALLY!? And she waited for someone to answer. She wouldn't move on or just assume we weren't a bunch of retards. In my own fantasy world (on which I rely quite often to keep myself from just standing up and leaving meetings like this) it went like this:

Nutritionist: Now, y'all, what do y'all think is better for you and your baby? A double-chocolate seven layer cake? or an apple?

Me: Well, if I'm allergic to apples, I would say the cake would be better.

Nutritionist: Well, assume you're not allergic to apples.

Me: You know what happens when you assume....you make an "ass" of "u" and "me"

Nutritionist: Y'all! SALMON!

Me:?

Nutritionist: Well let's say you're not allergic to apples. Or just pick a fruit you're not allergic to. What would be better?

Me: It depends on if I wash the fruit or not. Lots of people don't wash their fruit before eating it. So the question becomes: What's better for me? Listeria, Salmonella, and E. Coli? Or delicious fudgy goodness that is cooked and is a delicious explosion in my mouth?

And then I laugh and laugh and laugh and go eat some cake.

But the BEST part (for real now) was the booklet she gave us that has the "sample menu" in it. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! I'm sorry, but I just have to write this down:

Breakfast

• bagel
• dry cereal
• hot tea
  

Snack

• banana

Lunch

• white bread
• baked potato
• crackers
• apple juice

Snack

• crackers
• sprite

Dinner

• white bread
• whipped potatoes
• crackers
• milk

Snack

• cream of wheat

I actually laughed out loud. I was a little worried, too, because if this is the menu that this "nutritionist" recommends, then I'm seriously worried about the kind of crazies they hire there. SERIOUSLY. I'm sorry, but there is absolutely no fat or protein in that menu. ANYWHERE!! I mean sure, if you're the type who wants their baby born without muscle, brain, or internal organs, then by all means stick to this menu. How is this ever recommended?!

DECIDED! I will now become a nutritionist. I'm sure they're paid nicely. And apparently education and common sense are not requirements! I'm in.

Does it confuse anyone else that this woman (who recommends the aforementioned menu to anyone...especially people who have human beings trying to develop inside them) has a job as a professional nutritionist? I feel like I'm taking crazy pills.

The 4 Worst Words: "Are there any questions?"

They say those who can't do, teach (and those who can't teach, teach gym). I never really appreciated or understood this fully until just earlier this week. The majority of my teachers growing up (and in college) were brilliant and really had a firm grasp on what it was they were teaching. They liked students, they liked their course material, and they cared about students loving what they themselves loved. They could teach because they could do. If that makes sense. College was perhaps an little different because those teachers all had PhD's and it was a private school. But I (proudly) grew up in the public school system. Until recently, I didn't realize what an exception my public school experience was.

Well, in my search for work, I have come to realize that I would really LOVE to teach high school economics if possible. I know economics. I like economics. And I like high-school students. So I did some investigation and found out the necessary steps in order to become a teacher in my county. Step 1 is to attend a "Newcomer's Oreintation" where a representative from the school board comes and talks about the basics of being a school district employee...like "drugs are bad" and "don't touch kids."

Now at this meeting, there were about 75 people. And that's a lot for one of these meetings. But having so many people truly revealed a lot about the nature of people and brought new meaning to the phrase "Those who can't do, teach...or try to teach." For instance, the theme for this meeting should have been "Those who can't follow directions, teach...and then get mad at their kids for not following directions and wonder why they just don't seem to be listening." I felt like I was in the classroom as a student. You know, like when you're in 5th grade and it goes a little like this:

Teacher: Today we're going to talk about art. Can someone give me an example of a kind of art?

Johnny: Paintings!

Teacher: Yes, paintings are art.

Megan: Sculptures!

Teacher: Sculptures are art, too. Anyone else have an example?

Suzie: Um, my grandma has corns on her toes.

Teacher: ::sigh::

Megan: ::double sigh::

Well let me tell you a little something that I learned...people never really change. If they don't pay attention or know how to follow directions when they're kids, they NEVER learn how to. And they'll do the same thing at 45 as they did when they were in grade school. Like when the instructor says, "Please save all personal or case-specific questions for the very end so that we can get through this whole packet. There are a lot of people here and it's hot." So what happens? Exactly what you'd expect:

Instructor: Alright, so addiction to alcohol or other drugs is considered abuse. Don't do it....are there any questions?

Me: ::thinking::oh shit, he just opened up the floor to questions. we're gonna be here ALL DAY!::

Man in the front: Um, I disagree. Because technically addiction is not abuse. You can be an alcoholic and not have a drink, but you're still addicted. So addiction is not abuse.

Instructor: Okay, well the point is that you shouldn't be abusing alcohol or using drugs if you're going to be working in this school system. Or ever, really.

Man: But you can't say that addiction is abuse. It's NOT! My grandpa was an alcoholic, but he didn't drink the last 20 years of his life so he was still addicted but he wasn't abusing.

Instructor: Ok. But don't do drugs or be a drunk. I think we all understand.

Lady in the back: Well I've known plenty of alcoholics, and they don't do other drugs.

Me: ::oh my gosh. I need to leave now::

Other Guy in front: Okay, so it's like this. I'm addicted to food. For real, y'all. And if I eat all the time throughout the day, then I would be abusing food. I have to use it in moderation. Plus I just can't eat in the classroom through every class. That's abuse, ok?

Lady: Yeah, but if you use marijuana even once then it's abuse. It's not like food.

Other Lady: I knew someone addicted to cocaine once...

...and it's right about there that I stopped paying attention...

I really don't understand what was so hard about the idea "Don't do drugs. Addiction is bad. Get yourself some help." People just like to hear themselves talk. One of the BEST (read: WORST!) parts of the day was when it came to the topic of "Is it ok to touch the students?"

Instructor: You may not touch students unless they are an immediate threat to themselves or other students. Elementary teachers, I understand kids like to give hugs...you may hug back (I like the sideways hug), but you may not initiate the contact.

PE Teacher: What if I want to give them high-fives? Do they have to initiate for it to be ok?

Me: ::No grown man should be high-fiving anyone...especially kids...unless you look forward to getting made fun of. Because no matter how cool you think you are, you are not. You're the gym teacher and the kids don't "relate" to you better because you give the high five.::

Instructor: Um, fine. High fives are fine

Lady: What about fist pounds?

Man: Or what if something that a kid does merits a handshake? Is that ok?

Other lady: Pats on the back?

Other man: My grandpa was an alcoholic...

Special Ed Teacher: Well this one time I had a classroom full of autistic, three-armed hermaphrodites with no toes and they would only calm down when I'd tickle their feet...is that ok?

What happened to the direction, "Specific questions should be saved for the end?" Well apparently everyone thinks their question is the most important. Maybe someone else had the same experience with the toeless, three-armed, ticklish autistic kids. YOU DON'T KNOW!

So at the end of the day, I was at even more of a loss as to why I don't have a job yet. Not to toot my own horn...but I think I have a better grasp on the world around me than the majority of the people there. And I can say with certainty that my listening skills and ability to follow directions are far superior to those of my "peers." For example, it's pretty much common sense that 1. you shouldn't do drugs of any type, 2. Parents are not comfortable with their children being taught by drunks or druggies, and 3. You shouldn't touch students...even if it's a hug. I seemed to understand this clearly from the packet (not to mention just understanding this as common knowledge prior to attending the meeting.)

Good news is--due to the intense migraine that happily took up residence in the left side of my head about 3 hours into the orientation, I got to excuse myself several times to go throw up, so I didn't have to hear ALLL the questions. But I did get to hear most of the gems. Now I know that if I ever have to be in charge of a classroom of 15 kids who like to be tickled, I need to tickle their spirits and not their feet.

Moral of the story? You should only be friends with those you can use.

I have a bone to pick with whoever the heartless selfish person is who came up with the Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer story. It's not a Christmas story. It's not even a HAPPY story. It's miserable and depressing and disheartening for those of us who aren't born with red noses.

Here's why:

So Rudolph is born different. He has a shiny red nose. Great, right? WRONG. Because of his "deformity" his father hates him (and my guess is that he beats him...but the claymation version edited those parts out). His mother and father make him cover up his special talents so that he can be a conformist and so that he can have shallow friends like they have. Awesome. It's better to have a lot of jackasses as your "friends" than to have people who actually like you. That's what we should all be teaching our kids.

Aside from his father beating him and making him pretend that he's normal...he is mocked and taunted by the others for being different. So he peaces out...good for you, Rudolph! Then, of course he goes to see the Misfit Toys. They're my favorite. Who wants a regular fruitcake cowboy when you can have an AWESOME one that rides a bird? Because when those normal cowboys on horses have a race with the one on the bird, guess who's gonna win every time? BIRD. Because the bird can fly and take a fat dump on the head of both the rival cowboy AND his stupid land-bound horse. Suckers.

Back to my rant--alright well no one wants anything to do with Rudolph because he looks different. But then what happens? UH-OH Santa! What are you gonna do...a force of nature prevents you from navigating your fat ass through the air. You're gonna let a little fog stop you? Looks like SOMEONE is regretting his decision to not shell out a couple of extra bucks to get some headlights installed on his piece-of-crap sleigh. Santa's a cheapskate. So now what's your only choice...looks like Rudolph's got the goods. Too bad everyone was horrible and mean to him. They go and beg Rudolph to help them out. Because Rudolph is the only redeemable character (save the misfit toys), and he actually took some time to form his conscience like we are all called to do, he says yes. Then everyone celebrates and everyone wants to be his friend and Clarice, that harlot, gives him a kiss. She's just a slutty gold digger. Everyone's happy. The end.

WHOA. WHOA WHOA, WAIT! Hold up. The end?! So they are all only friends with him because he's useful. Let's imagine a different ending. Suppose there was no fog. Suppose it was the most crystal-clear, beautiful Christmas Eve night ever. And the other reindeer were able to lug Santa's massive rump all over the planet. And they didn't need Rudolph's nose. What then? Answer: none of those reindeer (or Santa) would have given Rudolph a second thought. They would have gone on with their lives and been happy that they didn't have to go ask the red-nosed loser to come help them.

Now let's think about this in the context of Christmas. REAL Christmas. What's the essence and spirit of Christmas? No, it's not about stuffing stockings. It's not about getting presents. It's not about being cheery and merry. And it's certainly not about utilitarianism. It's about our redemption. It's about the Holy Family finally being complete in the birth of Christ. It's about Mary and Joseph hiding and frightened because Herod was trying to track down and kill their child...but knowing that God would protect them and guide them. It's about the celebration of Mary's "yes." It's about being joyful...TRULY joyful. Joyful is not synonymous with happy. Joy rests in the certainty that Christ is come. And what does Rudolph's story teach us? That friends are defined as those who are useful. You can hate them, unless they have something you want/need, then you can be their pretend friend until you're done with them and you've gotten what you need.

What else does it tell us? That if you don't have something to contribute to society, then you're useless and you really have no value as a human being and you belong in exile.

Conclusion: My children will NEVER EVER be allowed to watch the Rudolph Christmas special. They can watch Charlie Brown (because that tree is awesome and Linus is the BOMB!), and they can watch the 30-minute cartoon version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. That one is good because it's about repentance and conversion. YESSSS.

I also have my list of Christmas "Must-Watch" movies. It's not like I have anything against Santa. I like some Santa movies. I just hate that selfish Santa in Rudolph. Here's my list:

Jingle All the Way

Christmas Vacation

Elf

The Santa Claus

It's a Wonderful Life

The Godfather

Is your dog the fat kid in obedience school...?

Quote of my month:

Me: "Aw, look at how cute Lenny (my dog) is. He's licking my toes! Heehee!"

My Husband: "Gross"

Lenny: ::starts licking his own butt::

Me: "Oh, Lenny, that's gross! Why are you licking your butt?"

My Husband: "He's probably trying to get the taste of your toes out of his mouth"

This quote has absolutely nothing to do with the substance of this post. I just thought it was entertaining.

Sometimes there are people who make me just say "um, what." They are technically entrepreneurs who make their money by preying on the crazies who exist in America today. The label "crazies" applies to a wide range of people. There are Environmental Crazies, New Age Crazies, Pets-are-People-Too Crazies, Compulsive-QVC-Shopping Crazies, and Californians just to name a few. My favorite, by FAR, are the New Age Crazies, because often they overlap with every other group. You'll find those New Age folks just about everywhere except Adoration (ah, my sweet refuge). Right...so most of these people are the EASIEST to market to, and there's all kinds of crap and services you can sell them because they think they "need" these things.

Just as an example, there are people who make money off of Snuggies for Dogs. Snuggies....for DOGS! It's not like they have a fur coat or anything that they can wear around 24/7...er...wait. But you know what? PEOPLE BUY THAT STUFF!! And, of course, I'm talking about more than just those folks who buy it as a gag gift for their exceptionally tiny college friends who would probably fit in the Dog Snuggie with room to spare (haha. Short people are funny.) Someone has made a crap-ton of money off of this. Good for you, whoever you are. You've captured the spirit of the American Dream--sell crap and get rich doing it. Doggy sweaters/clothes and designer water bowls fall into this category.

People who dig the "New Age healing" are the BEST. Light therapy. HA! I could totally do this..."here, I have these special aura-cleansing lights. I see that your aura is clouded and dark, do you have pain and suffering in your life right now? Ah, lie down and let me shine my colored aura-cleansers on you. You'll be feeling energized again in no time. [now insert some kind of bullshit using scientific words] Oh, well the photons from all along the spectrum will activate the protons all over your body and equalize the electrons...so that there's no negative energy or charge. Just positive. We're all about the positive here. Your aura will be shining brighter than before." Win. I'd buy myself some strobe lights and one of those colored lamps from target for $39.99, and then I'd charge $100 for a consultation and initial evaluation. Then I'll have a 6-session package or a 12-session package, with each 60-minute session for the low price of $499! Get $50 toward your next treatment if you refer a friend! You KNOW there are people who would swear by this and come in for treatments.

What about the people who feel emotionally and spiritually connected with various animals. Like they have some sort of intimate spiritual relationship with Grizzly Bears. "AH, the bear spirit awakens my soul. He speaks to me." Yeah yeah. This is PERFECT! I'd market a body cream to these folks, made from Grizzly Bear milk and pine extract. Use it before your next camping trip and you know what? The bears will approach you as one of their own and accept you as a friend. They'll invite you over to their den for dinner where you'll sup on fresh honey and wild Alaskan salmon. Included with every 20-oz jar of "Beary Smooth" is a Bear sign language translation guide...so that you can communicate more effectively with our furry brethren. I'm so money.

But there's one thing that I've been thinking about since I was a kid. My brother and I would throw around ideas about this kind of business, and now that I've had a little more experience in the real world, I think there might just be something there. This goes back to the Pets-are-People-Too Crazies. You know how there are are commercials for dog food that are designed for overweight animals? I personally think that it is (in all sincerity) a good idea, because pets aren't meant to be so fat that they can't move...they need to be able to run around and play and go for walks without having their bellies drag on the ground. These commercials/products are for serious people who are concerned about their dogs' fat asses...and health. But I think we can take that further...time to market to the Crazies. Here's what I propose: pet gyms and plastic surgery for animals--because your dog has a right to feel like the beautiful, confident pekingese that she is. Play on the Crazies' fears. "Is your dog the fat kid in obedience school? Do the other dogs make fun of him? Does he sit by himself at the lunch bowl while the other, fitter dogs laugh? It's time to get Fido to DOG GYM! At Dog Gym we have Puppy-robics classes every day from noon til three, we have personal trainers available so that he can reach his weight loss goal, we have swim classes, Puppilates, weight training, kick boxing, and a newly-renovated cario room! In no time, your dog will go from "Ruff ruff..." to "Bow-WOW!" Those young bitches around town won't even recognize your buff mutt. Sign up today at DOG GYM!" HAHA!! Do you even know how much money I'd make? oh my gosh SO much money.

So, comrades, realize how wonderful America really is...because it's where there will always be some poor sucker who's willing to buy whatever junk you're peddling.

Creative cures for that unemployment boredom...

Have you ever read those articles/books that have recommendations for jobs that moms can do at home to make a little extra moolah-dinero? You know, those gems like being an Avon (or Mary Kay) lady...starting an online bakery/candy-making business...or online data entry? Well that's all great except when

1. You're not into the business of bothering your neighbors/friends/family to buy face goop that you yourself wouldn't even use (I've seen a MaryKay convention UP CLOSE [believe me. the makeup doesn't help.]. It's nowhere I'd ever want to be. Talk about your teenage-girls-in-middle-aged-bodies. ::shudders::).

2. You can't cook/bake anything unless it's canned soup. Let's be honest, we can't all be Nigella. In fact, most of us aren't. Some of us just came from 4 years of college food (which, don't get me wrong, can be very good at some universities) where the dining hall ladies cut our Jell-o cubes for us. Unless people like crumbly/black cookies, selling baked good is probably not the best avenue for me.

or 3. You don't feel like hating your life/punching yourself in the face just to alleviate the boredom.

So I've decided that there are a few options that anyone can do. And even if you don't sell your ideas or make any money, at least it will be worth your while because you'll at least keep your brain exercised (gotta stave off that Alzheimer's! That's why I do a crossword and a sudoku every day.) But I don't see how any person, however mildly creative, couldn't sell their ideas--considering the amount of crap there is out there. You'll see what I mean...read on.

1. Write books for little kids. Seriously, have you seen baby books lately? REALLY?! 5 pages, about 30 words, some stupid cheesy pictures (and don't forget that there ALWAYS has to be some kind of crappy distorted mirror on the last page that says "Woo hoo! It's YOU!") That is ALL you need. And they're all so stupid...like they're about colors or animals and they have dumb titles such as "Colors! Colors!" or "Animal Fun!" Parents are supposed to teach their kids their colors and animals. MY books would teach kids the important things in life that many parents don't seem to stress enough. For example, there's the always-classic "Stop Poopin' Your Pants...OR ELSE!" and here's how it'd go--

page 1: "What's that smell? It smells so bad!"

Page 2: "Making everybody sad."

Page 3: "No one wants to be around the friendless kid whose pants are browned."

Page 4: "Worse than droolers and nose-pickers is the one who's fudged his knickers."

Page 5: "He isn't asked to join in games, and no one cares to learn his name"

Page 6: "What rancid stench from depths within! The cause of ultimate chagrin."

Page 7: "Who is he who smells so foul? The one who can't control his bowels!"

Page 8: "The one who'll never have a friend, who'll always have to buy Depends"

Page 9: "Woo hoo! It's YOU!" (and then there'll be the ubiquitous distorted mirror on the last page)

Why am I not published yet? It even rhymes, which is usually never the case with children's books.

2. Compose TV or radio jingles. Again...have you HEARD any of these jingles lately? They makemy ears bleed and my heart hurt. (Pepto Bismol is an exception. That is the best advertising I've ever seen. I'm being serious.) There's one recent commercial that is especially horrible--and it's for the steps you need to take to keep yourself healthy in a world ridden with swine flu germs. It's just a woman singing (like a diva) "WASH HANDS! COVER YOUR COUGH! STAY AT HOME WHEN YOU ARE SICK!!" Really? No rhyming? Remember when you were little and you would just sing tunes or songs about your day or what you were doing at any given moment...and you just made stuff up? Same thing. Do it now. For instance I could at this very moment compose a jingle about Nutella. "Nutelllaaaaa....makes life much bettaaaa." Done. I'm available for hire.

3. Create greeting cards. Easiest job ever. It could range from a blank card with a picture of a sleeping puppy on it to a card with a novel written on it. Seriously. EASY! Get started at home today...take your dog (or whatever pet...or even your children) and cover their cheeks and mouths in icing. Take a picture. Put it on the front of the card, and on the inside write "What cake?" Sell it for $2.99. Instant success. But don't forget that birthdays aren't the only occasion for cards. There are also the ones that are "Just Because" or "Thinking of You"...take a picture of a glass of water (or a watering can or a hose or a faucet), put it on the outside of the card, and on the inside of the card write "Water you up to?" or "Hose it goin'?" Simple picture on front? check. Lame pun? Check. Yeah. It'd sell like hotcakes.

Well there it is. Have fun, be creative (or not...you'd probably still be able to make money), and enjoy the company of your imagination.

Wisdom from my dad

My dad was right. He always is. Sophomore year of college, we went out for lunch and he told me, “When you look for your first job after graduation, it’s gonna take you a long time before you find one. You will cry. A lot. You need to make connections. If you don’t have connections, you will never have a job ever.” I wish I had listened.

I suppose I got my first experience with my father’s supreme wisdom when I was three years old and he told me that pooping my pants is disgusting and if I continued I would never have friends. That was the last day I ever wore a diaper. I just wish I was as smart at 19 as I was at three. It's not like I'm still pooping my pants...I'm just saying I brushed off my dad's warning, and I didn't focus on the whole "making connections" thing. It certainly came back to bite me in the ass. I'm 22 with a college degree in Economics and Russian and zero jobs. No one tells you that applying for jobs, is a full time job. Except instead of getting paid with dollars you get paid with an increased sense of bitterness and self-loathing.

Which is why I've decided to make the best of it. It forces you to look for the small things throughout your day that make the day about a thousand times more entertaining. FOR INSTANCE, I have this squirrel that lives in my yard who is completely awesome. He sits on the sill outside the window and watches Price is Right with me in the mornings. He usually wins the showcase, but I don't let that ruin our friendship.

I like to think of myself as Fun-employed (none of that Negative Nancy "unemployed" business. We're about optimism here.) Every day I have 9 hours to myself while my husband is at work. After I subtract the time spent applying for jobs, time spent NOT getting called back for interviews for said jobs, and time walking/playing with my dog, I have plenty of time for my imagination to exercise itself. You ever wonder why little kids are far more creative than adults? It's because they have the time to be creative. Well, when you're funemployed you have that time again. You don't have to worry about how you're going to write 12 pages on genital imagery in Pushkin's poetry. You don't have to worry about how you're going to argue that Thomas Malthus was just a pessimist on his period. Instead, you're free to think about the important things in life...like why Vladimir Putin thinks that riding shirtless on horses is what people want to see...or thinking about what your cover-job would be if you were a member of the CIA (mine would be CIA agent...no one would actually suspect that a CIA agent would *tell* people that they were a CIA agent)...or trying to think of reasons why Seth Rogan is so popular (by the way, I still can't think of any).

It also gives me time to work on my runway walk, because if I'm going to apply to be on America's Next Top Model Cycle 15 (I missed the deadline for Cycle 14), I'm going to have to fierce-it-up a bit. Word to the wise: if you're going to work on runway walking, one of the best places to do it is in the foil/saran wrap aisle at the grocery store. It has the fewest people...and nothing says "I'm powerful and fashion-forward" quite like Reynold's Wrap.

So if you're unemployed, think about making yourself FUNemployed. It's about infinity times better than wallowing in despair and nursing the wounds of your ravaged self-esteem. Plus, your grocery store experience will be a LOT more fun.