Monday, October 17, 2011

This is what I keep telling myself.

Your midterm results is not your personal identity, your midterm results is not your personal identity, your midterm results is... uh... are not your personal identity.


Thursday, October 13, 2011

Dear Dentist,

Thank you for trying not to scare me when I was younger. It didn't work 'cause honestly, those tiny magnifying glasses you wear are terrifying, but I appreciate the effort.

That said, I hope I never see you outside of your office.

Never, ever.

I'm sure you're a decent man. But see, you've studied the inside of my mouth. That's...awkward. There is nothing I can wear, no jewelry I can buy, no pithy comment I could make that would ever make running into you at Starbucks less awkward.

You've seen me drooling. Nothing can undo that.

If I do accidentally make eye contact with you one day in the middle of Safeway, please pretend you didn't notice me and continue examining cereal boxes until I successfully scoot away. I apologize in advance.

Really, it's not you. It's me.

The knowledge that I have worn the standard sunglasses your assistant provides--that are only slightly less geeky than 3D movie glasses--with a hunk of green plastic covering my puffy, numb lips is just too much for me to bear. Hell, you've even seen my lopsided attempts to smile before the anesthesia wore off.

I'm cringing right now. It hurts my soul just to admit that that's ever happened.

I hope you understand. See you next cavity, and not a moment sooner.

Your 11 o'clock