i heart the waiting room

I went to the dentist today, first time in almost a year (gasp!). When I checked in I told the lady behind the counter who I was and that I had new insurance. She took my card, made a copy, gave it back to me, and I sat down. Then, one minute later she comes out and calls "Tplate?" like I hadn't just told her my fricking name, and like there are more than two people in the waiting room. Weird.

She brings me into the office, sits me down and puts on one those bibs to catch your drool (which came in very handy later, when I was, in fact, drooling), and leaves. I sit in the chair for 10 minutes waiting for the hygienist. Without the comfort of the magazine I just left in the waiting room.

Why do they do this? A few months ago I had to go the lady doctor and the same thing happened. I'm all sitting in the waiting room, reading any of the 100 fascinating magazines they have available, and then they call me back. I go in the office, undress, and sit on the table in my paper nightie until the nurse comes back in and tells me that the doctor just got in with a patient who happened to be late for her appointment. I was going to have to wait 20 minutes or so. Okay, so I, who was EARLY to my appointment, have to wait for some other jerk who happened to be late for hers. But not only do I have to wait, I have to wait in a paper nightie with NOTHING TO READ. Delightful. So I read the posters on the wall about the reproductive system about fifteen times. (I had no idea the fallopian tubes were so lengthy!)

Today's dentist appointment ended with them telling me that I had FOUR cavities, and another filling from childhood had disappeared. (Apparently I swallowed it. Delightful.) Now, I haven't had cavities since I was 15, so I really don't know what the numbing/drilling/filling regime is like now, but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like it. Also apparently, when you turn 30 weird things like this happen.

Like I don't have enough to do now that I'm 30.

sled fest 08

Well, as you can see, I had to change the name of my blog. Yup, I couldn't hold on to 29 any longer, and the 30s are here. I'm okay with it though, and, as my older and wiser family members keep telling me, it's going to be a great decade.

For my birthday my awesome Colorado-side friends indulged me and went sledding! It was 60 degrees but our sledding hill managed to hold on to enough snow to make it fun. Here's a peek at one of cardboard box races (the "station wagon" of sleds as RL calls them). Team Tplate vs. Team Cardboard Box. We totally won, as you'll see. Please ignore the point where I put the camera down to put my gloves on. :)




After we tried to squeeze eight people into a box and the boxes subsequently fell apart, we raced on what I can only describe as "rocket sleds" which propelled us down the snow/ice/grass into the padded trees and hay bales at the bottom of the hill.



For my final run of the day I decided to go a totally different route and ended up narrowly missing a tree and landing gracefully in the gravel under the swingset of the nearby playground. Everyone watching was pretty sure we were about to go to the hospital, but I managed to come out of it with just a few scrapes. (Apparently there is something you can do called "bailing" which would have diminished the risk, but I was unaware of he technique at the time.)

Once we were all cleaned up, we went for burgers at Red Robin, a classic teenage experience!




My friends are great. Thanks guys!

Update!

Update: I posted a Missed Connection for incessant-bus-cord-puller-guy, at the advice of Tracy Jane. Hopefully he'll get back to me soon and I can let you all know how it turns out.

Stay tuned!

This just in...

I got on the bus today, and seated in front of me was a man on his cell phone. Soon after I sat down, he pulled the cord to request a stop. When the bus driver stopped, the guy kindly got off his cell phone long enough to say, "Oh sorry, I pulled it for the wrong reason." Then he got back to his phone conversation.

At first I thought he must have meant he pulled it for the wrong stop, and that he would be getting off at the next one. But no. He was on the bus all the way to the end with me.

So I spent the entire bus ride trying to figure out what the hell other reason you would have for pulling the bus cord other than to request a stop. It's like that Lewis Black bit about overhearing a waitress at the IHOP saying "If it weren't for my horse, I never would have spent that year in college." In his words, don't even try to understand what that means or your brain will explode! So I tried to keep calm as I went over the options.

Did he just get excited and have to pull something? Does he have a tic? Was he about to fall out of his chair and grabbed onto the nearest thing?

This is the kind of language you use when you get into relationships you know you shouldn't be in: I did it for the wrong reason! Or steal some kid's milk money on the playground to get in with the cool kids*: I did it for the wrong reason! This is not the kind of language you use on the bus.

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*Please note I have never, ever done this.

Flight 161, DFW to DEN

I had an unusually eventful trip back from Ft. Worth the other day, and I thought you might find it interesting.

Got to the airport, checked in at the kiosk while 50 other people stood in line for a desk agent. Don’t they know the glories of airport machinery?

Got in security line with the bottom outside pocket of my suitcase open because it has the liquid goods in it that I’m about to remove (more on that in a second). Kindly woman behind me in line tells me that the bottom of my suitcase is open. I just smile at her and tell her it’s okay. Not til I get to the scanner do I see that the actual bottom of my suitcase is unzipped, and clothes are sneaking out. Kind of feel like an idiot. Think that somewhere behind me she must be staring and feeling smug.

Spent the rest of the time in the security line wondering whether they were going to bug me about the fact that my clear plastic zip-top bag was in fact a gallon size, instead of a quart. Picked up the bag they provide and saw that it is actually something more like a pint, not a quart, and there was no way I could fit all of my goods in there. Decide to chance it and get through.

Went to Burger King in the hopes of some ounce of protein/nutrition. Indian guy ahead of me orders a Croissan’wich* without the meat or egg, for which I am grateful because I’m about to order one without meat and I am happy to have someone forge that path ahead of me (a treacherous one at places like Burger King). Started a conversation in my head, which went something like this: Do Hindus also not eat eggs? Why? Are they used to going to Burger King? How awful. Seems like there are plenty of other good things they could eat. A croissant with some American cheese on it just doesn’t seem like it would fit the bill.

Sat eating my Croissanwich, sans meat, and watched the plane before mine disembarking (debarking?). See a guy from my neighborhood get off the plane, a guy who I met once at a community gathering, and whom I always see on the bus in town. Weird.

Went up to the desk to ask a question, but had to wait for the desk agent to get off his cell phone, talking to goodness knows who about some possible emergency at home.

Finally, he gets off:

Me: Is there any way to swap my window seat for an aisle?
Older man who suddenly springs up beside me: Is this where you place your breakfast order? (obviously joking)
Desk agent: Only seats left are middle seats, honey.
Me: Okay, thanks (kind of annoyed that I just got called honey).
Older man: Don’t take the last of the eggs benedict!
Me, looking at the older man strangely: uh, huh, ok.

Older man wanders off too, and I wonder if he came up to the desk when I did just to pull my leg.

Got in line to board and watched the boarding agent tell a passenger, somewhat harshly, that she has to have a stroller tag. The agent’s primary language is something like Chinese, so her exhortations seem even harsher. Then she starts arguing with the other desk agent about who exactly is going to get her the stroller tag. Poor stroller-laden woman doesn’t know what to do.

Later, when everyone is seated, Chinese agent gets on the plane, and tells a little man across the aisle from me that the box he’s checked is not going to make it on. “Your BOX is not going on the plane!” she says. Then the other desk agent tells him that the airline is not responsible for the perishable stuff in the box. It’s not clear why the BOX is not going to make it on, but Chinese agent just keeps saying “the BOX, it’s not coming on the plane. The BOX.” The little man apparently does not speak fluent English, so she just keeps getting louder. Or this woman just likes to yell at people.

Weird. After that everything seemed okay. Meaning, after we got the heck out of Texas everything seemed okay.

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*Is that the correct apostrophe placement? I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a Croissanw’ich before so it’s hard to tell.