Saturday, March 19, 2011


There should be a list of people you can trust.  Certain people you should be able to take for their word and have faith that their judgement is right.  And shouldn't that list include doctors and dentists?

This whole transition to adulthood hasn't been without its bumps.  Some of those hiccups were my fault (Goodbye Ford Escort), but this one wasn't.  I did everything right.  My dentist (the one I've been seeing since my teeth first made their appearance) recommended a dentist in my area.  I scheduled an appointment, showed up on time, and had my insurance information ready.  That morning, I even remembered to eat a good breakfast and brush extra well before leaving.

The new patient paperwork was harmless, and after I finished filling in my boring medical history, the hygienist took me through a tedious set of full-mouth x-rays.  The next hour was filled with careful, meticulous cleaning, polishing, flossing, rinsing, pocket-gauging (not sure what that is, but the instrument is sure shiny and sharp...), and positive comments ("You have great homecare!  Your teeth look really good.  I don't see any problems.").

The dentist entered and shook my hand.  Some small talk was exchanged, including details about the fact that he worked at my dentist's office in 1996-1998 (about the same time that my dad was unhappy with the student dentists' work and asked that the main dentist do our checkups).  He then spent a couple minutes examining the x-rays, another minute probing in my mouth, and ended the checkup proclaiming that I have three cavities.  Not having had a cavity in all of college, I found this to be surprising.  And that was only the initial attack.  He followed it by telling me that his office doesn't provide the silver fillings (only the tooth-colored composites) and that it's probably time to start replacing the silver fillings in my mouth.  He even went so far as to make a list of them.  Dollar signs were flashing in his eyes.

In a daze and with the kindling of a fury lighting up, I left the office after making an appointment for the first round of cavity drilling and silver filling replacement.  A phone call to my dad ignited the fury when he echoed my suspicions.  By the time I got back to the office, I was livid.  Half an hour later, I placed a phone call to my dentist to ask about filling replacement.  After looking at my file, they were suspicious as well.  They recommended getting a second opinion and said that 9 times out of 10, fillings don't need to be replaced.

I'm 23-yrs-old.  These fillings have been in my mouth for less than 15 years (the "lifetime" of a filling).  And silver fillings are supposed to last longer than the composites.  I feel like this new dentist was trying to take me for my money.  Fat chance.

Now, would it be too unreasonable to drive 220 miles to my old dentist?  At least I can trust him.

Friday, March 11, 2011


Privately religious.  Privately religious?

The Utoid and I had a conversation last night about definitions and values.  Some things he said about relationships and love left me shocked.  Knowing his parents, I said that I was surprised that his values didn't match.  From my experience, most kids' opinions (post-teen years, of course) tend to resemble those of their parents and upbringing.  He pointed out that sometimes the offspring hold the parental values in odd ways.  When I asked for clarification, he used my religion as an example, said that if I hadn't already told him that I am religious, he would have never been able to tell.  He went on to say that I don't display a single sign in my manner of speaking, my attitude, my expressions, or my personality that would point to me being religious.

Well, I felt like I had been called a heretic.  But it also got me thinking.

No, I don't go to church (outside of my parents' church while home), nor do I pray regularly (and never in public).  I don't read the Bible on a consistent basis (but I have read it in its entirety).  I don't tithe.  I eat meat on Fridays, and I work on Sundays.  But that doesn't mean I'm unreligious, that I'm not a Christian.

So, am I privately religious?  I guess so.

It was never a conscious choice, the privatization of religion.  I don't feel comfortable with the idea of evangelizing.  It's not my place to force my beliefs on another person.  I don't often talk about it, because those who bring it up are usually looking for a fight.  Being unable to express my thoughts in the face of ruthless debaters is not my idea of a good time, so I tend to let it go (aside from mushrooms, there is nothing I hate more than "debating" someone who drills their point into you, then stomps you into the ground for good measure).  Maybe somewhere between deciding not to evangelize and keeping quiet during religion talks, I lost my religion.  My public religion.

Lent started on Wednesday.  During the time of year where people are giving things up, I've found that I've already done that.  I've already given up everything [public] about my religion.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011


It's fun being a tourist in one's own town.

Over the course of 30 hours, K and I managed to:
- Eat at Dick's Drive In
- Climb up Queen Anne to Kerry Park

- Visit the Space Needle
- Walk to Pike Place

- Night walk back to Queen Anne
- Fremont Troll at night
- Gasworks Park


The Coffee Shop Formally Known As Starbucks.

Somebody somewhere was inspired by Prince...

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Mission Statement?

This blog wasn't created with a mission in mind.  It wasn't designed to be a soapbox or a daily log.  While personal stories may seep into the posts, the shape and form of the blog won't be a diary.

It will be a place to share moments.  Moments of good food, laughs, stories, thoughts, and dreams.  Random happenings and the small things will give it character.  Perhaps the occasional soapbox may make an appearance, and maybe--just maybe!-- an opinion might be found.  

As I write, live, breathe, see, taste, hear, and experience, this blog will [hopefully] take shape.  Perhaps as I learn the blog will grow.

Welcome to the journey.
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