Ow

I have always loved going to the Dentist. I have never been afraid of getting my teeth fixed. In fact, I have been known to fall asleep in the Dentists chair regularly. I think it has something to do with being reclined, the soft warm glow of the lights and already having my mouth open. I just love the end result: teeth so smooth and silky you could mistake them for silk. The only thing I struggle with while in the dental chair is where to cast my gaze. For a long time there were no TV's in the office and I always felt awkward just staring into the hygienist's eyes, and I wondered if they were thinking "quit staring at me....look somewhere else, I just work here". But then they got TV's which alleviated some of the pressure, but they are always to the side and make my inner eyeballs hurt from looking one direction for too long. I got my teeth cleaned in August which was amazing after the long summer months except for the cavity I pointed out to the Dentist. We filled it and voile la! Back to normal, until a couple of weeks ago. I started feeling pain when brushing my teeth, on the lower right side (as they say in the dental world). It didn't hurt when I ate, just when I brushed my teeth. I got some Sensodyne toothpaste and no change. The same vein puncturing pain was still there. That's when I knew I had to get a professional. Well.. that and the big dark spot forming in my tooth. I got an appt and went straightaway after my nanny job. My Dentist bills himself as "gentle dental" and normally that is correct. I never feel anything and if I happen to I never mind because I've always been a sucker for that dull mouth pain. In fact, I always loved having a loose tooth so I could slowly push on it....good times. But back to today, I sat in the chair, leaned back and waited for my prognosis. "Wow, no pain when you eat...just when you brush? That's definitely a new one" said the assistant. Oh great I thought. I have just been diagnosed with a rare form of tooth something. Then the doctor came in, "so are talking about this brown spot here?" he said using a mirror. "No, this one....wait, what other brown spot?!" I squeaked. I felt like I had just gone to Dr. Ray's office and he told me that I should probably fix my saddle bags and drooping eye's when all I wanted was to fix a scar. "This huge dark area that hurts when I brush" I repeated. So he poked around and around and scraped here and there before consulting some x-rays. "I don't really see anything on the x-rays" he said. "When did you take those x-rays because I don't remember having any recently" I pointed out. "Yeah, these are from January. We should probably take some new ones". Thanks Doc, did I really have to tell you that? Aren't you supposed to know? Before you all start labeling me an anti-dentite keep listening, it gets better. "Well, it looks like an old filling is beginning to darken and since its bothering you we'll just replace it, got time right now?" he said. "Yup, let's do it" I replied. And then things began to get a little too Halloween for me. He numbed the area and then began giving me shots with the largest metal syringe I have ever seen. It seemed like forever he had his hand in my mouth and he just kept injecting, injecting and injecting into my gums. Finally with that done he asked me if I had a bad taste in my mouth and I answered no, not wanting to admit that I actually liked the taste of the stuff. And then the fun began. He pulled out the small drill, no sweat. We go way back. Then he pulled out the industrial drill that could have made its way through concrete. He lowered it into my mouth and all of the sudden I was covered in goose bumps and body shakes. My brain was sloshing to and fro with the sound of a metal zip-line in my left ear and a weed-whacker in my right. I had never experienced this drill before. It just kept coming, again and again and again. I wanted to scream "I don't like this very much!" but I just clasped my hands tighter and waited for the earthquake to subside. He rinsed the hole out while the assistant drained the water and sucked up my tongue with the suction hose over and over. He filled it with some white substance that smelled like a construction site which made me think he was basically dry-walling my mouth. Electric lights, hard pressure, metal pieces...it was all a blur. Then he asked for "the explorer" and received a large hook which he picked at my tooth with and I kept thinking, "please don't slip, don't slip and hook my cheek like a trout". Finally he said "we will just sand this down a bit and you'll be done". Finally! He began to sand away and it made this terrible high pitched noise that was new to me. And all I could think in my head was..."those are the sound of the shrieking eels, they always grow louder when they are about to feed on human flesh!". Done. And as I sat up he said "its a good thing we replaced this, there was some deterioration there, good call". GOOD CALL? YOU ARE THE DENTIST, YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS STUFF!!!!!!

Exposed

LUKE'S DAD IS GAY!!!!!! That's right, the secret is out! His business partner is actually his lover. Who knew? Actually, I did. I've seen this episode more than a couple times. And then at dinner Ryan says, "I was just over at their house, they seemed so happy" to which Seth cleverly replies, "and if by happy you mean gay?". Every time, it kills me every time. To those who may scoff at the brilliance that is the OC, how can you deny the wit in the above scenario? You can't. Which is why I love the show, that and its all about secrets. There is someone else who is all about secrets......ME. I love to hear them, to have them and to make them. Sometimes the secret slips out right away: "OK Jenn, I took your free sample of Dove lotion that came in the mail today...its in my room". Sometimes the secret comes out years later: "Oh yeah mom and dad, I used to steal ALL the time. I NEVER got caught. I was real good at it too, you proud?" and some years after that: "Mom, I set our backyard on fire. I burnt a good half of it. I still count it as a miracle that you never found out.....I covered the burned area with grass from the untouched areas. Guess it worked like a charm. Oh, and I set the carport on fire too, which explains all the black marks on the floor. Sorry". And sometimes they never come out: "Remember............" (come on, there are some things I will NEVER share). And just like today, there are secrets I need to confess out loud to lessen the personal shame I feel. The guilt is weighing on me and its real heavy. My name is Laquina and....I'm back to therapeutic shopping. I'm not proud of it even though I like it. I can't help but sparkle when I hear things like "I love your shoes, I just had to tell you". Don't judge me, or judge me and tell me what you think of the two new pairs of jeans I have bought in the last two weeks - do you like them? And I may or may not have bought two pairs of heels in the last two weeks as well (its a sickness). I stopped shopping after the summer, just quit cold turkey. The thought of stepping into the mall made me want to dry heave, going to the grocery store gave me headaches and the thought of TJ Maxx had me breaking out in hives. I guess it had something to do with shopping in 5 major cities and 2 countries in 4 months while lugging all my loot around with me. I had to send 2 boxes home during the summer with clothes that just wouldn't fit into my suitcases any longer. But I did get some GREAT things (thank you SoHo!).
My friend Jeff asked me to help him shop for some jeans tonight so I gladly went along. I think he tried on 90% of the jeans at Nordstrom. It was a denim killing ground with the remains of fallen washes and boot-cuts strewn all over the dressing room. After a long while we found them! The perfect dark denim to compliment his lower torso. After we left the store with a pair of jeans and a new sweater he put his arm around me and thanked me for helping him. "Most other people would have gotten sick of this by now" he said as we headed to CPK. Looking down at my feet I said almost in a whisper, " I just like to shop...even if its not for me".

Ring me up

My friend Tara made me watch a truly horrendous movie last night, Becoming Jane. I mean it was terrible! Now it wasn't badly made, it just didn't have a happy ending. I know all movies can't have happy endings because its not realistic, but this one just left me with a bad taste in my mouth. It left me contemplating which is never a good thing because I can just contemplate all night long over nothing and end up with no solution and bags under my eyes the next day. But this is what I thought...

We live in a society of instant gratification. You want the bigger house, you get it. You want a faster car, you buy it. You want a younger face, you suck the fat out of your butt and inject it in your face (or have someone help you). I am no different. I wanted the fancy jeans, I bought them. I wanted the expensive haircut, I got it. I wanted a L.A.M.B. sweatsuit, I got it. But unfortunately my list of wants never seems to get shorter, it just grows exponentially while my meager salary stays the same.

Then there are the things I want but have to work towards - even I cannot buy every Marc Jacobs sweater I want, even though there is a gorgeous grey on that I WILL have. I have to save my quarters to indulge my vain desires. And finally there are the things I want desperately but will probably never get my hands on like a supple leather Gucci bag with purple suede lining or a pair of hidden platform stiletto Louboutin's. But thats ok, these are all just material things that I can live without. In the movie Jane gives up on love because she is too practical. I symapthized with her. I would never go into debt for clothing let alone elope with someone who had a large Irish family to support - they eat more than just potatoes these days you know. But it seemed so unfair.

What holds us back from living like today is our last? What are we afraid of? If you truly care about someone, shouldn't you let them know? I happen to think that living with 'what ifs' is much more depressing than just knowing the truth, good or bad. Merriam-Webster's defines Torture as: anguish of body or mind. AKA the black leather 4.25 inch hidden platform mary jane's from Urban Oufitters on back order until December. Or is it actually secretly loving someone and never acting on it?

So I guess the real question is; When do you stop saving your pennies for that Fendi spy bag and go for the Ralph Lauren at TJ Maxx instead.....or do you?
Any thoughts???

Watch Yourself

I started watching the OC again last night starting with episode one. There are so many good things about that show that I wouldn't know where to begin. But amongst the vast brilliance of the show was the many catch phrases I gleamed from watching week after week. The most unforgettable phrase I adopted comes directly from episode one. Luke (the token water polo player) kicks Ryan (the token bad boy from Chino) in the gut after a scuffle involving Seth (the token smart, sarcastic nerd) and declares "Welcome to the OC bitch"! What more could you want in the first ever episode? Nothin. Unfortunately I liked that phrase a little too much and it became part of my regular vernacular.....
"Welcome to my room b**ch"
"Welcome to Provo b**ch"
"Welcome to the mall b**ch"
"Well welcome to your life b**ch"

Then one day I realized that if I didn't stop soon that I might be hearing "Lisha, YOU are a b**ch" soon. I thought I was done using that phrase until I started watching the show again. But I guess it reached deep into my psyche and I awoke in a panic this morning when I thought I heard "Welcome to college algebra b**ch" echoing in my head. What? OH NO. I haven't done anything...not one thing. I cannot fail this class. I lay there paralyzed unable to go back to sleep or get out of bed. I just lay there contemplating the terror that is math just waiting for my alarm to go off. I pictured walking to my professors office to beg for forgiveness. But the door just seemed to slink farther away from me as the hall got longer and longer like in a scary movie. What am I gonna do? This math is totally "mad-doggin" me.

Looks like I'm gonna be spending some happy holidays doing make-up work. But I did this to myself so I guess I shouldn't get all "butt-hurt" over it.

Danger

I littered tonight. On campus. On BYU campus. I was walking to the testing center to prove my knowledge of all things Middle Eastern when I decided to chew a piece of gum. I folded the wrapper up into a neat geometric shape like always and pushed it around in my hand. Now the dilemma: Do I hold off until the next garbage can, or do I throw it into the night?
I twiddled it in my fingers as I neared the testing center.....and then POP! I flicked it into the shrubbery from a shaded area of the sidewalk after the street lamp. Why'd I do it?
Cheap thrill I guess. I'm into cheap thrills and million dollar billz.

Crazy

I called Mo tonight because I think I'm going crazy. Maybe I'm not crazy, but I just want to do crazy things. Mo is my resident crazy therapist....
"you did what? I can't believe you did that"
"No, I don't think that's a good idea. Definately do NOT do that"
"Never do anything in the moment of craziness"
"Josh agrees, do not tell him"
"you are just acting crazy"
"remember when you used to call ME crazy?"

Yes Mo, I remember when I called you crazy. Thanks for passing it on to me. I have a number of married friends who seem to have passed the crazy torch for single people to me. "here, can you take this crazy torch for me? I don't need it anymore" So now I carry around about 5 peoples crazy torches. Thats a lot for one person. So far I have been able to keep the crazy at bay in the public eye, but not in private. I think I have narrowed down the three sources that cause most of my problems:
!. Too much time on my hands
2. The dreadlocks starting to form in my hair
3. Facebook

The solutions:
1. I have started to think of my life as an off-shoot of Hugh Grants character in about a boy. I separate my day into units of time. 1 hour for hanging out with friends on campus, 1/2 hour for heading outside with Abuela and her Jazzy chair, 1 hour for yoga, 1/2 hour for The Hills, 45 min. for eating chips and salsa, and 1 hour for staring at my pores (I'm trying to cut back).
2. I have to cut my hair.
3. Stop spying on people via "the internet". I don't think thats what "the internet people" had in mind when they created "the internet". But unfortunately its too easy to snoop into peoples lives on facebook and end up disappointed when you find your secret crush flirting with someone else. Thanks "internet" (carina, that was for you. I know you know "the internet").

As Mo talked me into slowly setting my crazy torch down tonight she mentioned how her baby is teething. So soon I asked? How do you know? She said well, he has been fed and changed, what else could it be? And when I give him his teething ring he just gnaws on it. And thats when it hit me. I have been fed, I went to the bathroom, what else could it be?
I need a teething ring. Something to gnaw on for hours to make me feel better. And then I discovered that I do have a type of teething ring. Movies. When I'm mad or happy, or frustrated or crazy I put on a movie with a corresponding feeling and watch it until I can hit the streets non-crazy.
I am on my 6th run of "Broken English" since Saturday night. I feel it kicking in. (and Mo, does the Boo make you crazy? cause that might explain things)

Pretty Please.....?