First-things-first, I got up and around to head to work. While I was driving, I couldn't help but call and wish my Momma a very happy birthday.
-Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Biiirthdaaay dear Mooommmaaa.
Haaaappy Biiiirthday toooo yoooou.
Then, I went on with my day.
After a semi-long day of work and classes, I headed over to my parents' house to go out for her birthday. We already had a great birthday night in the works for the following Friday at The Melting Pot, so we decided to go somewhere simple for the evening.
When my Daddy asked what she wanted to eat, she laughingly commented how much she loved Whataburger. Yes, Whataburger.
On the way there, we spotted hundreds of black birds lining the electrical wires. It was almost eerie how many there were. Then, in her precious 3yr old mind, my niece simply said, "You better watch out! That's a mommy bird and she's about to poop!" After calming my giggles, I asked how she knew that it was a mommy bird. With a frustrated look, I disregarded the question. (I guess I should have understood that a 3yr old...just knows.) Then, she continued by saying, "There's a billy of them!"
Oh...to be three.
Once we got to Whataburger, (somewhere I hadn't been in years) we devoured our meals and decided to stop and get dessert on the way home. ColdStone, Braums, Starbucks...
I asked Momma what she wanted for "D-E-S-S-E-R-T".
-"It's called dessert aunt Brittany."
Wow, she's catching on so fast.
Having tried Pink Swirls and Orange Tree (Now split up and called Orange Leaf and PeachWave...odd), I had yet to try Lushberries. So, decided to stop by and give it a whirl. And?
Taro is still my favorite...and I was a little disappointed that I couldn't have my sprinkles on top of my deliciously nutritious frozen yogurt with strawberries, blueberries, pineapples, and other yummy fruits. However, the company made up for it.
All-in-all, it was a great night.
*I've learned over the years that I love my family...and ice cream.
Happy Birthday, Momma!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Birfday at B Double-Dubs
Attempt #2 = Success
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After a terrible birthday experience at Carino's, we took my sister out for her actual birthday at one of her favorite places, Buffalo Wild Wings. By the time I made it out of my class and back in town, my family was already there. Altogether there was: Gramma and Pawpaw, Aunt Tracie, Momma and Daddy, Lindsay and Zoie, and me!
After ordering our drinks, placing our dinner order, and receiving our meal in a timely manner, I enjoyed my boneless wings with parmesan garlic and cheese wedges (ymmm). After some killer trivia games, I briefly mentioned the fact that we were celebrating my sister's birthday. The came out with a chocolate cake and ice cream and offerred up a birthday song.
After deciding that she could do without the music, we enjoyed the cake as a family and wrapped up the evening with some great photo opps.
Lastly, I stopped by my sister's house to drop off the cutesy gifts I had picked out. All-in-all, BWW saved the Birfday!Timothy and Bailee, Sittin' in a Tree
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
As of March 8th, I have officially booked my first set of "big-girl photographer" clients. Have you ever met someone that when you looked at the way they interacted with one another...you just knew they were in love. No, I'm not talking about the, "I'm so in love with the way you look that I can't keep my hands off of you". I'm not even talking about the, "I love you, I love you, I love you, I'm SO in love with you" people. You know the type, they look all "googly-eyed" at each other and you can't tell where one personality stops and the other begins.
After meeting Tim and Bailee during their engagement session, I realize that they are the couple that you think, "You show the world what it means when God says unconditional." They are so tapped into each other's spiritual lives that they shine in love when you see them together...
AND
I have the amazing honor and blessing of capturing this love on film on the biggest day of their lives. Yes, I'm officially shooting a wedding.
Believe-you-me, I am nervous like you wouldn't believe. Seriously, I have that shaky feeling in the pit of my stomach that doesn't even allow you to actually shake because you're so far beyond just "feeling" scared. This isn't something you can re-do if I mess up. However, I have to start somewhere...right?
-Right.
That's what I thought. So, despite my inmost fears...I'm going for it. (Thanks for your understood agreement that I graciously answered for you).
Now, it's off to work...
Researching photographs, planning poses, making checklists, meetings with the clients, testing equipment in the venue, and shooting the most amazing pictures I can possible take...I love photography.
As of March 8th, I have officially booked my first set of "big-girl photographer" clients. Have you ever met someone that when you looked at the way they interacted with one another...you just knew they were in love. No, I'm not talking about the, "I'm so in love with the way you look that I can't keep my hands off of you". I'm not even talking about the, "I love you, I love you, I love you, I'm SO in love with you" people. You know the type, they look all "googly-eyed" at each other and you can't tell where one personality stops and the other begins.
After meeting Tim and Bailee during their engagement session, I realize that they are the couple that you think, "You show the world what it means when God says unconditional." They are so tapped into each other's spiritual lives that they shine in love when you see them together...
AND
I have the amazing honor and blessing of capturing this love on film on the biggest day of their lives. Yes, I'm officially shooting a wedding.
Believe-you-me, I am nervous like you wouldn't believe. Seriously, I have that shaky feeling in the pit of my stomach that doesn't even allow you to actually shake because you're so far beyond just "feeling" scared. This isn't something you can re-do if I mess up. However, I have to start somewhere...right?
-Right.
That's what I thought. So, despite my inmost fears...I'm going for it. (Thanks for your understood agreement that I graciously answered for you).
Now, it's off to work...
Researching photographs, planning poses, making checklists, meetings with the clients, testing equipment in the venue, and shooting the most amazing pictures I can possible take...I love photography.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Carino's or NO Carino's...
Over the weekend, we decided to go out to dinner with the family for my big sister's and momma's birthdays. After debating on where to go, they settled on our local carino's (bum deal).
Usually, I would have been enthusiastically pleased with the decision to have any italian. As we walked in, they took our name and we began to wait for a free table. We were escorted to a cozy table for 7 in the corner. There, we sat...and sat...and sat. For 15minutes we sat waiting for a drink order to be placed.
Several waters, a couple of teas, and a coke or two...we didn't ask for much...and again...we waited. (*Insert jeopardy music here*) After a mere 20 minutes or so, we asked a nearby hostess if we could place our order and possibly get some drinks. She replied that our waiter was probably still getting our drinks because they only had one person on fountain and to be patient. So, we didn't make a scene and we sat patiently.
After another 5 minutes or so we received our drinks and placed our orders. Then, we waited. (Are you beginning to see a pattern here?) 30minutes of hunger led to the wrong order for the birthday girl and a salmon sent back to the kitchen. TWO HOURS later the birthday girl was without dinner, the rest of the us were finished with our meals, drinks were empty, the ticket was yet to be seen, and we hadn't heard from our waiter since he took our order.
Finally, we spotted the manager. With a wave of a hand, we beckoned him to our side. Without any remorse, he brought a pitcher of water, to-go boxes, and the ticket. Did he ask if we were discouraged with our service? No. No such luck at all. Instead we payed full price for a half-decent meal and time well wasted.
It was a bum deal birthday for two! Until next time...
Usually, I would have been enthusiastically pleased with the decision to have any italian. As we walked in, they took our name and we began to wait for a free table. We were escorted to a cozy table for 7 in the corner. There, we sat...and sat...and sat. For 15minutes we sat waiting for a drink order to be placed.
Several waters, a couple of teas, and a coke or two...we didn't ask for much...and again...we waited. (*Insert jeopardy music here*) After a mere 20 minutes or so, we asked a nearby hostess if we could place our order and possibly get some drinks. She replied that our waiter was probably still getting our drinks because they only had one person on fountain and to be patient. So, we didn't make a scene and we sat patiently.
After another 5 minutes or so we received our drinks and placed our orders. Then, we waited. (Are you beginning to see a pattern here?) 30minutes of hunger led to the wrong order for the birthday girl and a salmon sent back to the kitchen. TWO HOURS later the birthday girl was without dinner, the rest of the us were finished with our meals, drinks were empty, the ticket was yet to be seen, and we hadn't heard from our waiter since he took our order.
Finally, we spotted the manager. With a wave of a hand, we beckoned him to our side. Without any remorse, he brought a pitcher of water, to-go boxes, and the ticket. Did he ask if we were discouraged with our service? No. No such luck at all. Instead we payed full price for a half-decent meal and time well wasted.
It was a bum deal birthday for two! Until next time...
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Happily Ever After
Okay, so most people know one thing in particular about me...
I love Love. Yes, I love everything about love. I love how it makes my tummy turn flips inside with butterflies. I love that anxious excitement that comes from spending time with that "special someone". I love the world "love." Just say it...luh, uh, v. Doesn't it sound pretty? I love the meaning behind that word. That simply-complex, incapable to understand, makes you want to yell from a rooftop, never felt anything like it before, makes you cry happy tears...feeling. Then, not to mention the history of love. I mean really. God IS love. Has there ever been a more powerful statement? I think not.
I love watching people in love. Their eyes light up. They smile a certain way. They put off this glow that shines from the inside out. Love affects everyone. It can never be restricted or defined. I love to remember things about love. I love to think back about times I've had in the past with people I've loved. I love to sit and sip on warm cocoa to remember lovely Christmas evenings with the people I love. I love to reminisce about times when love meant so many different things. Friendship love, puppy love, first loves...the sparks of hand-holding, the fear of kissing for the first time, the flickering light bulb that brightens when I realized what true love really was. It's just...love.
Well, all of this love-talking makes me wish I had all of those loves documented for me in a little file that I could pull out and remember what made me, well, me. I could show my children someday that love runs deep-and-wide and comes-and-goes. Most importantly, I could recognize from the file when my life changed and I found my everlasting love.
Photography is one of my biggest passions. I used to worry, "What if people don't like my pictures?" or, "What if I get rejected?" However, God has the amazing ability to grant you with talent and loves to pursue. Now, I ask myself, "Why wouldn't someone want to work with a person that would absolutely adore nothing less than to take photographs of them to capture THEIR story. They make the picture...not me! Why wouldn't people like the pictures that I spend hours of effort poured into making them perfect...just for them! If worse comes to worse...everyone gets rejected atProxy-Connection: keep-alive
Cache-Control: max-age=0
ome point. It just wasn't meant to be."
Behind my lens, I get to envelop every emotion into one beautiful storyline of pictures to place into a book and help write a fairy tale of love that can be pulled out and shared with all sorts of people. I get to write the story for the world to see and bring love to life.
A picture's worth a thousand words, but a love story is priceless.
I love Love. Yes, I love everything about love. I love how it makes my tummy turn flips inside with butterflies. I love that anxious excitement that comes from spending time with that "special someone". I love the world "love." Just say it...luh, uh, v. Doesn't it sound pretty? I love the meaning behind that word. That simply-complex, incapable to understand, makes you want to yell from a rooftop, never felt anything like it before, makes you cry happy tears...feeling. Then, not to mention the history of love. I mean really. God IS love. Has there ever been a more powerful statement? I think not.
I love watching people in love. Their eyes light up. They smile a certain way. They put off this glow that shines from the inside out. Love affects everyone. It can never be restricted or defined. I love to remember things about love. I love to think back about times I've had in the past with people I've loved. I love to sit and sip on warm cocoa to remember lovely Christmas evenings with the people I love. I love to reminisce about times when love meant so many different things. Friendship love, puppy love, first loves...the sparks of hand-holding, the fear of kissing for the first time, the flickering light bulb that brightens when I realized what true love really was. It's just...love.
Well, all of this love-talking makes me wish I had all of those loves documented for me in a little file that I could pull out and remember what made me, well, me. I could show my children someday that love runs deep-and-wide and comes-and-goes. Most importantly, I could recognize from the file when my life changed and I found my everlasting love.
Photography is one of my biggest passions. I used to worry, "What if people don't like my pictures?" or, "What if I get rejected?" However, God has the amazing ability to grant you with talent and loves to pursue. Now, I ask myself, "Why wouldn't someone want to work with a person that would absolutely adore nothing less than to take photographs of them to capture THEIR story. They make the picture...not me! Why wouldn't people like the pictures that I spend hours of effort poured into making them perfect...just for them! If worse comes to worse...everyone gets rejected atProxy-Connection: keep-alive
Cache-Control: max-age=0
ome point. It just wasn't meant to be."
Behind my lens, I get to envelop every emotion into one beautiful storyline of pictures to place into a book and help write a fairy tale of love that can be pulled out and shared with all sorts of people. I get to write the story for the world to see and bring love to life.
A picture's worth a thousand words, but a love story is priceless.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Shoo, Bug...Don't Bother Me (It's No Bueno)
Well after a long day of one of the worst migraines of my life, I headed out to see my family and grab some office supplies for a presentation the next day. After dinner at Taco Bueno (a FORMER favorite restaurant of mine), I hit the after Valentine's Day sale at our local Tar-jay with my big sis.
Much to my dismay, the store was lacking in the pink goodness that comes with Valentine's Day. However, I will count it as a blessing that I was able to pad the pocketbook with extra change not spent. My sister even found my supplies on clearance and I spent a total of $2.28+tax on exactly what I needed.
As soon as we checked out at the counter, my three-year-old niece was rounding the part of the evening where she has to be totally wired or else she will pass out from exhaustion. Hence the rushed exit from the store to get her into the car and back home.
I, on the other hand, made a stop back by my parents' house to wrap up some coursework and tune into the Olympics. Somehow it seems more exciting when there is a "crowd" rather than a cuddle of sleepy pups in my lap. Although, I wished I could have had both.
After a couple of runs on the competitions, my stomach began to convince me that Taco Bueno was no longer "more bueno". Instead, I felt the deep part of my belly wanting to scream something terrible at me. I made the decision that if I got in bed, the pain would stop (no such luck).
On the contrary. As soon as I plowed through the door, my body hit the cold tile, and my stomach had won the battle by forcing the no-longer-delicious food back into my throat and into the commode. Bad deal...bad, bad, bad deal.
After hours of excruciating regurgitation, my fingers found my cell phone and managed to dial the one voice I wanted nearby. Mr. IcareaboutyoumorethananythingonEarth rushed off of work and was by my side in no time (although it felt like a really long time while I was waiting). He slumped in behind me, tucked blankets around me to stop the shivering, dampened washcloth after washcloth, and put up with my pitiful self for over EIGHT HOURS of non-stop vomiting. Yes, I thought I was GOING TO DIE.
He tried to put me to bed (on several occassions) to get me "more comfortable". He offered to change doggie bags so I wouldn't be confined to the cold tile that surrounded me. He brought me numerous water bottles, fixed my tooth brush, handed me the pepto, and even sent out concerned messages for advice to some of the most knowledgable people we know: A) My mother and B) The neighbor across the street that is also a nurse and mother of 2 beautiful girls. If neither of them could calm me, I told Mr. I'mtryingeverythingtohelp that I was going to make him take me to the ER. Fortunately, he knew what was best and continued to work with me until the cycles went from 5minutes to 10minutes and I finally fell asleep.
Morning wasn't much better. The phonecall had already been made to my doctor, and a prescription was on its way. The neighbor had also brought some relief over and I managed to suck it up and take the medicine (not exactly the easy swallow-with-a-swig-of-water medicine either). Through the aches and frustration, Mr. Senseofhumor managed to get a giggle out of my sore ribs when discussing my experience of taking medicine "in the out". I got some rest while I could, and he checked on me continuously over the next day and a half.
"If you want to truly know a person, put them in an emergency with the person they love the most...that's when you see who they really are." I never believed what people had said in the past, but I realize now just how right they were. I am so blessed to be in a relationship with someone that I can trust my life with. Honestly, I don't know if you caught it before...but I thought I WAS GOING TO DIE.
He not only rushed to my side, but he held my hair when I got sick. He turned the heater up and helped me as I went back-and-forth from the bed to the bathroom, to the floor, to the bed. He talked me through everything. He made sure to take care of me and wouldn't leave me even when he knew I was going to be okay. He brought me bouillon cubes and cooked them so I would "drink plenty of fluids". He forced me to drink it even when I whined. He held me and let me cry when I couldn't get my body to stop shaking. Most importantly, he never let me down.
Well, 3 days later and I'm finally out of the house. I admit I may have overdone it today, but I got to see the sunshine and tried to eat something of substance. *Note to reader(s) and self: Yogurt is NOT a good choice if nausea is involved. Who knew?
After all is said and done, I did not die. (You were worried, right?)
I may be days behind in the college world (Don't people factor in...ummm...reality in the "tentative schedule"?) I've got a couple of projects to makeup, and exams that I still feel unprepared for due to the fact that I am so scatterbrained that I put shredded cheese into my parents' pantry and a bag of chips in the refrigerator crisper. This is one time where my sanity can seriously be questioned. However, I am bound-and-determined to make it out of this mess of a week with a vengeance and straight A's like before.
On a different note, the scale officially reads 8lbs less than before, and my ribs feel like they could break at any minute if I tap into the wrong thing. This makes me feel a little better about the fact that I was a bigger baby than I should have been and that my stomach "bug" was legitimately there. BUT I am alive and kicking and blessed with the life I have. So until next time...Shoo Bug, don't bother me!
Much to my dismay, the store was lacking in the pink goodness that comes with Valentine's Day. However, I will count it as a blessing that I was able to pad the pocketbook with extra change not spent. My sister even found my supplies on clearance and I spent a total of $2.28+tax on exactly what I needed.
As soon as we checked out at the counter, my three-year-old niece was rounding the part of the evening where she has to be totally wired or else she will pass out from exhaustion. Hence the rushed exit from the store to get her into the car and back home.
I, on the other hand, made a stop back by my parents' house to wrap up some coursework and tune into the Olympics. Somehow it seems more exciting when there is a "crowd" rather than a cuddle of sleepy pups in my lap. Although, I wished I could have had both.
After a couple of runs on the competitions, my stomach began to convince me that Taco Bueno was no longer "more bueno". Instead, I felt the deep part of my belly wanting to scream something terrible at me. I made the decision that if I got in bed, the pain would stop (no such luck).
On the contrary. As soon as I plowed through the door, my body hit the cold tile, and my stomach had won the battle by forcing the no-longer-delicious food back into my throat and into the commode. Bad deal...bad, bad, bad deal.
After hours of excruciating regurgitation, my fingers found my cell phone and managed to dial the one voice I wanted nearby. Mr. IcareaboutyoumorethananythingonEarth rushed off of work and was by my side in no time (although it felt like a really long time while I was waiting). He slumped in behind me, tucked blankets around me to stop the shivering, dampened washcloth after washcloth, and put up with my pitiful self for over EIGHT HOURS of non-stop vomiting. Yes, I thought I was GOING TO DIE.
He tried to put me to bed (on several occassions) to get me "more comfortable". He offered to change doggie bags so I wouldn't be confined to the cold tile that surrounded me. He brought me numerous water bottles, fixed my tooth brush, handed me the pepto, and even sent out concerned messages for advice to some of the most knowledgable people we know: A) My mother and B) The neighbor across the street that is also a nurse and mother of 2 beautiful girls. If neither of them could calm me, I told Mr. I'mtryingeverythingtohelp that I was going to make him take me to the ER. Fortunately, he knew what was best and continued to work with me until the cycles went from 5minutes to 10minutes and I finally fell asleep.
Morning wasn't much better. The phonecall had already been made to my doctor, and a prescription was on its way. The neighbor had also brought some relief over and I managed to suck it up and take the medicine (not exactly the easy swallow-with-a-swig-of-water medicine either). Through the aches and frustration, Mr. Senseofhumor managed to get a giggle out of my sore ribs when discussing my experience of taking medicine "in the out". I got some rest while I could, and he checked on me continuously over the next day and a half.
"If you want to truly know a person, put them in an emergency with the person they love the most...that's when you see who they really are." I never believed what people had said in the past, but I realize now just how right they were. I am so blessed to be in a relationship with someone that I can trust my life with. Honestly, I don't know if you caught it before...but I thought I WAS GOING TO DIE.
He not only rushed to my side, but he held my hair when I got sick. He turned the heater up and helped me as I went back-and-forth from the bed to the bathroom, to the floor, to the bed. He talked me through everything. He made sure to take care of me and wouldn't leave me even when he knew I was going to be okay. He brought me bouillon cubes and cooked them so I would "drink plenty of fluids". He forced me to drink it even when I whined. He held me and let me cry when I couldn't get my body to stop shaking. Most importantly, he never let me down.
Well, 3 days later and I'm finally out of the house. I admit I may have overdone it today, but I got to see the sunshine and tried to eat something of substance. *Note to reader(s) and self: Yogurt is NOT a good choice if nausea is involved. Who knew?
After all is said and done, I did not die. (You were worried, right?)
I may be days behind in the college world (Don't people factor in...ummm...reality in the "tentative schedule"?) I've got a couple of projects to makeup, and exams that I still feel unprepared for due to the fact that I am so scatterbrained that I put shredded cheese into my parents' pantry and a bag of chips in the refrigerator crisper. This is one time where my sanity can seriously be questioned. However, I am bound-and-determined to make it out of this mess of a week with a vengeance and straight A's like before.
On a different note, the scale officially reads 8lbs less than before, and my ribs feel like they could break at any minute if I tap into the wrong thing. This makes me feel a little better about the fact that I was a bigger baby than I should have been and that my stomach "bug" was legitimately there. BUT I am alive and kicking and blessed with the life I have. So until next time...Shoo Bug, don't bother me!
Friday, February 12, 2010
Never Knock Out Your Front Tooth...
Any other week, Friday would be a wonderful day. This week...not so much. I woke up bright and early to go to the dentist to finally get my "permanent tooth" after my Christmas day incident. The first thing that popped into my head as I opened my eyes was, "I get a new tooth today!" I was so, so excited.
Unfortunately, once I was in the chair they decided to do a root canal while they were at it. Gee Doc....thanks so much.
Bad deal.
First of all, I've never had a root canal in my life. Those things hurt! Bad! On top of the awful pain of having someone stick an orange-colored stick inside of what was left of my perfectly shaped tooth, you are dealing with a person that is obsessed with teeth. Call me crazy, but I take pride in the little white pearls that were so graciously given to me by the good Lord himself. I mean, I brush multiple times a day to ensure they are clean and shiny white. Seems sensible, right?
Apparently there are no people on the face of the planet that have white teeth besides me. At least that's what my dentist made it sound like. It was such an inconvenience to try to "match" my new tooth with my current tooth-color. They started mixing materials together to get a "whiter" look. After realizing that sealant is a light-cured material (when it fell off of the front of my temporary tooth) he pushed it back on with his fingers and used the blue light to set it.
Logically, (yeah, right) the dentist decided to make my tooth shorter in order to avoid sensitivity problems. Since the temporary that had been placed after Christmas was a tiny bit larger, it had shifted one of my teeth a little bit. In order to allow my tooth to "correct itself", he drilled a gap in between my two front teeth with the hopes that it would grow together.
Then, the dentist told me I could have a couple of the ladies at the front desk help me pick out a shade to order in my porcelain veneer. When I noticed that the lightest swatch was still "yellow", I asked the receptionist if there were more colors. Her reply was, "Well, if you don't do anything to your teeth for a while, they will eventually yellow-up."
Really? Really, lady? You...at a dentist office...expect me to stop taking care of my teeth so that they will match a fake tooth?
As I got into the car, Mr. Ijustwanttobringasmiletoyourface had a bouquet full of roses sitting on the seat. One look, and I immediately broke down in tears. The laughing gas apparently didn't do the job, because I was hysterically crying for 30minutes straight.
Once we got to my parent's house, my mom took one look at my mouth and called the dentist. I guess it takes a Momma's voice sometimes...the dentist told me to come back up and they would see what they could do to match it.
Opaquer.
A girls best/worst friend.
On the bright-side, he brushed the front of my fake tooth with a white material and lengthened the tooth to make it a little closer to the length of my original. On the down-side, I have an insanely white tooth against my pre-existing white-ish tooth (for at least 2 weeks). It's awful.
I go back first thing next week when the man from the lab brings in a new swatch with whites on it.
After a LONG morning at the dentist, I went to the doctor. Then I got a WONDERFUL massage at a local spa. Finally, I met my amazing family to make a Friday night better.
I tell you what, Italian food makes any day a good day. Honestly, it does...
To wrap up the day, I went home with my big sister to craft and watch Nicholas Spark's movies. Unfortunately, we only made it through one movie and we were already boo-hooing like you wouldn't believe. We sat and talked for a while until I headed out for the evening.
Note to reader(s):
-Never carry metal (or sharp objects) while walking on the ice. BUT, if you do...
-Never knock out your front tooth. BUT, if you do...
-Never let a dentist tell you that your newly installed tooth will someday match your teeth if you neglect to take care of them. BUT, if you do...
-Never forget to tell the amazingly wonderful man in your life how much it means to you that they take care of you and bring you flowers when you've had a root canal from experiencing the above mentioned no-no's.
AND
-Enjoy some amazing Italian food with the people you love the most, confide in your big sister, and watch sappy love-movies until your eyes swell from crying so much.
The End.
Unfortunately, once I was in the chair they decided to do a root canal while they were at it. Gee Doc....thanks so much.
Bad deal.
First of all, I've never had a root canal in my life. Those things hurt! Bad! On top of the awful pain of having someone stick an orange-colored stick inside of what was left of my perfectly shaped tooth, you are dealing with a person that is obsessed with teeth. Call me crazy, but I take pride in the little white pearls that were so graciously given to me by the good Lord himself. I mean, I brush multiple times a day to ensure they are clean and shiny white. Seems sensible, right?
Apparently there are no people on the face of the planet that have white teeth besides me. At least that's what my dentist made it sound like. It was such an inconvenience to try to "match" my new tooth with my current tooth-color. They started mixing materials together to get a "whiter" look. After realizing that sealant is a light-cured material (when it fell off of the front of my temporary tooth) he pushed it back on with his fingers and used the blue light to set it.
Logically, (yeah, right) the dentist decided to make my tooth shorter in order to avoid sensitivity problems. Since the temporary that had been placed after Christmas was a tiny bit larger, it had shifted one of my teeth a little bit. In order to allow my tooth to "correct itself", he drilled a gap in between my two front teeth with the hopes that it would grow together.
Then, the dentist told me I could have a couple of the ladies at the front desk help me pick out a shade to order in my porcelain veneer. When I noticed that the lightest swatch was still "yellow", I asked the receptionist if there were more colors. Her reply was, "Well, if you don't do anything to your teeth for a while, they will eventually yellow-up."
Really? Really, lady? You...at a dentist office...expect me to stop taking care of my teeth so that they will match a fake tooth?
As I got into the car, Mr. Ijustwanttobringasmiletoyourface had a bouquet full of roses sitting on the seat. One look, and I immediately broke down in tears. The laughing gas apparently didn't do the job, because I was hysterically crying for 30minutes straight.
Once we got to my parent's house, my mom took one look at my mouth and called the dentist. I guess it takes a Momma's voice sometimes...the dentist told me to come back up and they would see what they could do to match it.
Opaquer.
A girls best/worst friend.
On the bright-side, he brushed the front of my fake tooth with a white material and lengthened the tooth to make it a little closer to the length of my original. On the down-side, I have an insanely white tooth against my pre-existing white-ish tooth (for at least 2 weeks). It's awful.
I go back first thing next week when the man from the lab brings in a new swatch with whites on it.
After a LONG morning at the dentist, I went to the doctor. Then I got a WONDERFUL massage at a local spa. Finally, I met my amazing family to make a Friday night better.
I tell you what, Italian food makes any day a good day. Honestly, it does...
To wrap up the day, I went home with my big sister to craft and watch Nicholas Spark's movies. Unfortunately, we only made it through one movie and we were already boo-hooing like you wouldn't believe. We sat and talked for a while until I headed out for the evening.
Note to reader(s):
-Never carry metal (or sharp objects) while walking on the ice. BUT, if you do...
-Never knock out your front tooth. BUT, if you do...
-Never let a dentist tell you that your newly installed tooth will someday match your teeth if you neglect to take care of them. BUT, if you do...
-Never forget to tell the amazingly wonderful man in your life how much it means to you that they take care of you and bring you flowers when you've had a root canal from experiencing the above mentioned no-no's.
AND
-Enjoy some amazing Italian food with the people you love the most, confide in your big sister, and watch sappy love-movies until your eyes swell from crying so much.
The End.
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