Thursday, January 13, 2005


Hurts So Good


Not good at all in fact. Not one little bit.

I have a confession. I have dentophobia. Like the kind where you shake and sweat during cleanings and really can't think of anything more horrifying, up to and including giving birth, than going into the dentist's office.

I have also been gifted with fairly poor teeth. Small teeth, thin enamel, etc. etc. Imagine how joyous a combination this may be. Imagine how many hoops I have jumped through trying to pretend that this screaming-almost-passing-out-pain in my face that throbs with every heartbeat is just oh, nothing.

Not buying it? Me either. It's not as bad as it was but it's still vile. I'll be seeing the dentist on Tuesday unless it gets worse and then I'll be in tomorrow.

In the meantime, I would like to extend my eternal thanks to whoever discovered ibuprofen.

Enough whiny self-indulgence; on to greater things.

Here, dear hearts, in all its completely-undistinguished glory, is ...

... Sophie, part one.

I'm a-feared of dpns and cables, however I have no fear whatsoever of felting, having destroyed at least one sweater in the wash in my illustrious past.

I'm almost finished the base, hoping to pick up the stitches and start the sides before I go to bed tonight.

I'll keep y'all posted.

I don't like dpn's but I loves my cables! Feels so much better to have things resting in my lap vs. on the needles. Looking good, thanks for the bag fix.

I'm so sorry about your teeth! Don't forget to chase the ibuprofen with whiskey....dulls your brain til it can dull your pain.

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
I absolutely ABHORE the dentist. I hate the doctor just as much. I'm a complete idiot about it. Can't help it. Oh. But love the cables.
I'm with ya, lady. My teeth are made, I believe, of chalk. At this very moment I can count FOUR very dark brown spots that I KNOW are cavities. Have I made an appointment in two years? NO. Have I resigned myself to the reality that I will have to make an appointment? Perhaps. . .but then they stop hurting. For awhile.
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?