Verboseterous!

Papa-isms.

I believe my dad has the best singing outbursts.  I always secretly wished that I inherited his vibrato and ability to just belt out without abandon.  I hardly even sing in front of Jeffrey! 

It’s currently Saturday morning and I’m sitting in my room in my parent’s house, the same one I’ve been living in for the last 20 or so years.  My dad has just cooked breakfast and is now he’s singing the most casually decorated rendition of “You Raise Me Up.”

My friend, Maureen, can attest to this.  In fact, I often text her whenever he is singing something totally exaggerated and she gets it.  She has memories of my dad doing the same thing from when we were in grade school.

By this time next year, I won’t be around much.  I realized only recently how much I’ve grown to really love this quirk about my dad.  And how much I need to cherish it before it no longer is a part of my every day.

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“…Are you okay?”

-Debbie, the dental hygienist.

After sum-odd years of not visiting the dentist, I finally saw one today.  You know it’s bad when, on the new patient questionnaire you are asked when the last time you went to the dentist, you put: “I don’t remember.”  Couldn’t even estimate, either.

So after an assessment of my dental un-health, the dentist looks at me square in the eye and tells me that I have a whopping five cavities, all residing in the right side of my mouth, among other dental maladies.  Like, crowns and necessity for a [sexy] bite guard level type stuff. 

“Yes, I’m okay, I think.  Honestly, I was expecting worse.”

The irony of all of this is the fact that I probably get complimented on my teeth more than anything else. 

Ladies and gentlemen, I am a fraud.

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Stripper feeling.

Yesterday, my patient slipped two $20 bills into my scrub pocket because she was really happy with her care.  She said, “don’t be shy!  Just take it!”

Of course I begged her to take it back (she did), and hinted for cookies instead (because asking subtly for desserts is, apparently to me, was less unethical).

But man I’d be lying if, “omg mani-pedi money,” wasn’t the first thing that came to mind.

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More things I learned while wedding planning.

I really can’t pull off eyeshadow.  Everyone has always told me that the urge to wipe off my face is fleeting; I’m just not used to it.  Yes, I suppose.  I’m not used to feeling like a drag queen in training, if that’s what they mean. 

Going on Pinterest, reading Green Wedding Shoes and 100 Layer Cake and all other wedding inspiration blogs give me anxiety attacks.  However, I think I’m pretty in-tune with myself and what I ultimately want, so if I’m not 100% on an idea, I tend to not go with it.  But does that stop me from spending an exorbitant amount of time browsing and pinning?  Hails to the nah.

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J. I’m giving myself 5 minutes to write this; otherwise, it will turn out really long.

Dear Jeffrey,

This entry will serve as a quick, little thank you note. 

Thank you for stepping up and being so involved in our wedding planning.  Thank you for putting up with how horrible I am when it comes to reading and replying to our vendors’ emails and thank you for establishing and maintaining contact with them in general.  I think, if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have booked my dream photographer, nor would we have any invitations in mind, and I’d still be going back and forth between chair choices:  folding, or Chiavari?  Thank you for reminding me that, sometimes, I am ridiculous, but also working with all of your capacity to make this entire process as stress-free as possible.  Thank you for making me not worry.  I am so not-worried that it makes me worry. 

(Again, thank you for reminding me that I am ridiculous.) :)

On another note, thank you for just being you.  This time, I will hone in your effortless way of building relationships with other people as easily as you breathe air.  You are amazing to me.  If I am lucky, I can spark up as many friendships as you can in maybe a month, when it takes you a few minutes.  You are selfless, endlessly giving, and I admire so much the way you are emotionally invested in the people you hold dear, and I really can’t believe sometimes, that you’ve placed me among the top of that list.

Basically, thank you for filling in in all of the places in which I fall short.  Thank you for being the other half that makes our partnership better.

I love you.

From,

Me, duh.

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The last thing that made me cry.

Saturday morning.  I’m sitting across from J and we have just finished having breakfast at his favorite, Original Pancake House.  Earlier, while noting that about 10 seventy-to-eighty-somethings sat together at a table, we wondered what the occasion was.  Bachelor party?  Guys morning out? 

Har har, we are lame.

As we were getting ready to leave, we heard a crowd of male voices singing a strong rendition of “Happy Birthday.”  As the song progressed, the surrounding chatter of the restaurant reciprocally grew quieter to a complete hush. 

When the song finished and the restaurant’s applause for the birthday celebrant had stopped, J turned back to face me, only to find me trying to finish my previous story but with completely glossy eyes. 

“Are you seriously crying right now?”

I really do love me my old people. 

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Quick hello.

Currently trying to find ways to write for a living.

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Finished reading Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (And Other Concerns) by Mindy Kaling today.  I’m going to miss hearing her voice inside my head.  I felt like we were buddies for a second.

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I’m ruined.

Unhealthy amounts of Grey’s Anatomy has been watched. 

I’M SO DISGUSTED WITH MYSELF.

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Self rewards.

One of my new year’s resolutions really should have been to be more frugal.  But sometimes when I think of the things I had to endure in order to earn my paychecks, such as:

• having my arm get peed on
• suctioning phlegm every hour
• wiping poop of all colors, sizes and consistencies
• running to catch vomit before it gets everywhere (too late)

I think:  shoes.  Or a massage.  Or even a piece of cake or a cup of frozen yogurt.  Any of those will be good today. 

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