Am I an Anti-Dentite?

I spent some time at the dentist today and while I was in the chair and someone was cleaning my teeth with that awful silver metal thing that makes that screeching noise as it scratches my teeth, quite a lot of thoughts went through my head. Why would anyone want to be a dentist? Or a proctologist? or a foot doctor? Seems silly to me. I want to be on TV. I don't understand why more people don't want to be on TV or make TV but that's cool because that means less competition for me, but still. You know what boggles my mind....when the dentist talks to you when his hands are in your mouth. My orthodontist used to do this often. He would be tightening my braces and ask, "So how are your mom and dad?" and to that I would respond "Goidsak akjsea jsduea" which he somehow understood and continued the conversation. They must teach you a special language in dental school. I was also thinking about how much I just really don't like someone scraping my teeth. And I try to be a positive person....so I started to think of all of the things that could be worse than that, like being eaten by a lion (do lions eat people? oh well), sitting on a cactus, being poked in the eye with a stick several times, being hit by a Mack truck, eating a worm, and the list goes on. In the end, I would not consider myself an anti-dentite, for, I may not like going to the dentist, but I respect his work. For instance, when I ran into the pole in second grade and chipped my two front teeth the day of my school play in which I had a singing part, he fixed me up right away. But I still don't understand why anyone would ever want to be a dentist.

HEY DENTY!

Smiley Potato

A Museum of My Own

My mother often says, "Erica, I can't take this room any more. You are not going anywhere until it's clean." She also often says, "Well, I don't really like mashed potatoes." WHICH IS A SIN in my version of the 7 deadly sins. I don't know about God and his version. But anyway, my mom is always complaining about how "messy" my room is. I try to clean it, I really do. I have just run out of room for stuff. You see, I am the oldest of four girls. I have the smallest room. I chose to commute to college and live at home. And, over 20 years of life, a person collects a lot of crap. I go through it every now and clean and out things...give em to the Salvation Army, throw the garbage away, etc, etc, etc. But it is a never ending cycle. So, I've basically given up trying to fit everything in the dressers and the closet and under the bed. Now, I have things on display. Like a museum. Because, let's face it, I'm going to be super famous one day and everyone will want to see all the crap I have in my room. I have some clothes on my desk, deodorant, lipstick, jewelry, 8409284 television remotes (clickers for you older folk) on the nightstand, a few DVD's on the dresser. It is just lovely. The best part is...I know exactly where everything is. Except for the remote/clicker every now and then. But, then, I try to make it look nicer and I try to re-organize everything. I try to find places to fit all my stuff. Then, my room is no longer a museum, but I DON'T KNOW WHERE ANYTHING IS. I guess I'm just not meant to be an organized person. Oh well, I hear the garage door going up (yes, the nice new ones thanks to me). That must be my mother so time to run upstairs and pretend like I was cleaning my room. Toodles.