Pearly Whites

I realize that I might be standing in a very small group here, but I love going to the dentist. I do. 
Even though I've lived in South Carolina for almost a year, I haven't changed over to a new dentist and so I decided to make an appointment while I was home. I like my dentist. He's a jolly guy and really cool so I thought I'd pay him one more visit before I will probably have to switch over. Sad. Anyway, I was pleased to hear my pearly whites are in good shape, though I do have to go back tomorrow morning to replace a filling that is coming loose. I'm actually, and I realize this makes me potentially very odd, excited. Anything that improves or protects my health excites me. Working in a hospital makes me appreciate a lot of things, as you might expect, and among them is good health. Plus I've been watching this filling and I had some suspicion it needed to be replaced at some point in the near future. And, one of my biggest fears is losing my teeth. I'm 100% serious. I have nightmares about losing my teeth where I wake up in a panic and feel my teeth to make sure they are all there. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it is a horrible experience. So, now that you all know about my feelings and current dental status....

I am home. I am so happy. Blissful. Ecstatic. Perfectly content. I love every single thing about New England. I love the people. I am so happy and I miss it so much. It's nice to be back and I am drinking up every moment. It snowed shortly after I got here and even though the snow has melted (stupid rain), it looks like winter and I think there is a beauty to each season (and since SC doesn't exactly have 4 distinct seasons, I am loving it). I take my dog on walks in the woods behind our house and we stop when we hit the lake and then trek back. It's splendid. I've eaten freshly caught lobster. I've cruised through some of my old stomping grounds and hang outs. Walked around some of my favorite villages. I've seen friends who are family to me. Tomorrow we are going to BOSTON and I am bursting with joy and excited. My city. YAY! I still haven't stuck my feet in the North Atlantic but that's on the agenda. Boy oh boy do I love New England. It sure does my heart and soul good to be here.  

Ticks, losing teeth, and papercuts...OH MY!

I don't really like when people ask me what my biggest fear is because that is such a broad question. Do you mean seriously? Life-threatening fears? Quirky fears? Phobia-fears? I mean what are we talking about here?
However, there are 3 things that absolutely terrify me-the whole cold shivers up the spine, shudder-at-the-thought fear.

{in no particular order}
1. Papercuts in my eye. I'm not alone with this fear but have you ever thought about it? My eyes are sensitive to begin with and I've had my far share of eye injuries and scares. Icicle thrown at my eye...not so fun. Papercuts on my fingers hurt immensely; in my eye though? ICK *shutter*

2. Losing my teeth. I've actually had recurring nightmares about this. I'm serious. In my dreams my teeth keep falling out when I move my tongue and it's quite possibly one of the worst feelings I've ever had. I've also had nightmares where I couldn't stop grinding me teeth and then they just fell out. HORRIBLE.

3. There are few things the word "hate" should be reserved for considering it's such a strong word (although loosely used, like the f-word....geez people). I believe ticks qualify for the use of hate. I hate ticks. Doesn't that just flow right off your tongue? Agree with me or not, I hate ticks. I took my dog out this afternoon and he literally went gallivanting and hopping through the fields behind our house. I was trying to keep up with him with his much shorter than usual leash (we have roofers here and I couldn't get to his leash without possibly knocking over some ladders and injuring some people so I decided to use the much shorter leash...bad idea). Scottie (the dog) did his thing and then did some exploring and then I decided it was time to go in. Well, as I settled in my mom's sitting room to start planning my 22nd birthday party (I was inspired by some Martha Stewart magazines in my mom's room--it's going to be a poker/James Bond/Casino theme...I'm pretty dang excited!), I spotted a tick on my sweatshirt. A cold feeling crept up my spine. Panic began to set in. Then I saw another tick on my pants. Don't panic Gabe, don't panic. Run to the bathroom. RUN to the bathroom. Get out the tweezers and rubbing alcohol. Pluck ticks off clothing and put in rubbing alcohol to watch them suffocate. {muah ahahahaaha}. I settled back into my mom's sitting room only to find TICK #3 on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. At this point I was just irritated. Added that one to the collection, bustled downstairs and had my mom do a scan for ticks. All clear. Picked my brother up from tennis. Get back to my mom's sitting room and what do I find. ANOTHER TICK. On my cup! SICK! Dane took care of this bugger. Have you ever doused a tick in rubbing alcohol and then lit it on fire? It's pretty cool. I didn't this time but my brothers and I have in the past. It rules.
It also doesn't help that I read an article today about a woman who contracted Lyme disease from a tick, was misdiagnosed twice, and ended up killing herself because the Lyme disease was so bad. So, for the next week everytime I feel a bump or a crawling sensation I will panic, freak out, and think it's a tick. Great.

Stupid ticks.