Forgive Me, Father, for I Have Not Flossed.

So I went to my regular teeth cleaning. I walked into the office, with its usual magazines sprawled across a table like bodies on a battlefield. I took my seat in the waiting room, finding myself under the rather disturbing scrutiny of a stuffed dog with human teeth in its gaping mouth. I never will understand the putting of the human teeth in the animals. It's not cute or charming at all, and looks like the deranged creations of a serial killer. It doesn't help that the mouths are opened supposedly in a smile that looks more like a scream. The stuffed-dog-serial-killer-trophy stared into my soul, and I was almost relieved when I was sent back to the dentist chair.

The walls were covered with posters warning against lack of teeth brushing. Bloody, yellow stumps were on every wall. They were even on the ceiling of the room I was being treated in. I had to brush my teeth before I sat down, and I took care to brush my teeth like a total boss, like the best brushing ever done, constantly checking in the mirror to see if any assistants were about to swoop down on me and lash me for bad technique. With a sigh of relief that I had been spared, I took a seat in the chair.

It was then I realized what I was experiencing. I walked into the dentist's feeling judgement, knowing that the people could see my faults tatooed across my face. That I didn't floss. Forgive me, Father, for I haven't flossed. Dentistry is a religion. You sin, you go to Hell. You don't brush your teeth, your teeth look like Hell. But if you follow the lord's will (i.e brush your teeth), your teeth will be white and glistening and saved. But whatever I do it's never good enough, I always have to do more to please the Lord. I can never equal the perfection of my dentist, whose teeth are holy. He pokes around in my mouth with sharp objects and makes recommendations. His ways are above mine. I follow his will without question, for he moves in mysterious ways. But he has a plan for me, and my teeth will be saved.

Think about it. It's safer to believe in my dentist, because if I don't, there's a chance my teeth will rot. Better safe than sorry.

My Cat is From Outer Space

So my older sister was off interning over the summer like the total boss that she is. The one thing you should be aware of is that she is a crazy cat lady before her time, and is the only thing keeping our crazy obese cat from going too far over the cliff of insanity. Needless to say, the separation was taking a huge toll on both of them.

It was a couple of days before she was coming home that I received a rather unexpected text message-

I knew she had been suffering from lack of cat, but adopting another one just before she returned home was frankly a rather stupid idea. I told her so, but nothing would change her mind. It was almost as if she had been brainwashed.

She said he was the cuddliest cat she had EVER encountered. He had snuggled with her for well over half an hour when she first released him from his cage. After much reasoning and pleading over Skype (when it wasn't pixelated and slowed down), we agreed to get this so-called cat. 

So the cat gets home and we inflict the name Gus upon him. I expected him to be nothing short of a lap dog but in cat form, but he was far from. As soon as you touched him he struck out. Leave him alone for 5 seconds, and he'd destroy everything in sight. Soon he was opening doors. He seemed like he was from another world, which is my theory. 

He often spends hours rapturously staring out the window. At what? Don't ask me. There's never any birds or anything interesting to normal cats. But what he's really on the look out for is this:

Yes. My kitten is a scout for an alien invasion. I doubt that he's that high ranking in the hierarchy in charge of the domination of the world. But I could always be wrong. He could be important because they would only waste the resources on a high commander who needs to know the exact layout of the target. 

But I guess we should've realized this earlier. Cats worm their ways into our lives with unadulterated cuteness and then turn us into their slaves. Cats have always been superior around us, and many well-fed cats spend their leisure killing innocent wildlife. It's really training. And these cats are probably going to win in the upcoming intergalactic war for the fate of earth. Heck, they've already won it as far as they are concerned. And something tells me an Avengers-type strategy won't help here.

There is nothing we can do but accept our fate and stock up on catnip.

Weekly Tchatchke

Story of My Life

Sweet Ride

Marathon Man

Let me state this before I go into my argument any further: I DO ENJOY RUNNING AND EXERCISE AND HIGHLY RESPECT MARATHON RUNNERS! 

Back to the post. So people all over run marathons. Why on earth do they want to do this? The concept of the Marathon is to commemorate the Greek soldier Pheidippides running to Athens to report the Greek victory over the Persians at the Battle of Marathon. He reached Athens, shouted out "NIKE!" and collapsed, dead. I understand honoring a great athlete, but should we really be encouraging this sort of behavior? I mean, the guy didn't have enough common sense to stop and drink a little bit of water and take a breather. These days people participating in that odd cult we call sports make it a priority to take safety precautions, and drink water like... well, like a fish. Come on, we don't commemorate great acts of overconfidence EVER. It'd be like commemorating Napoleon's fatal invasion of Russia (For those who don't know, Napoleon invaded Russia with over 400,000 men and came back with only 1/10 of that: 40,000. You don't invade Mother Russia, Russia invade you). 

Clearly if you are making a face like this, something has to be wrong. And I can say that, because whenever I run I make those faces, and my brief affair with rowing saw some of my craziest expressions I've ever made. All I can say, is if the sport results in bleeding nipples, maybe it shouldn't be called a sport and should be called torture. I am in awe of those who put themselves through this pain, but I have to laugh at whoever came up with the idea. 

Poll Dancing 2012

Democalypse Now! Indecision 2012! Well, let me interrupt all that by sharing with you all my first experience poll dancing:

The Perks of Having Long Hair

There are many unexpected pluses of having long hair, besides the fact that it makes one devastatingly attractive and is very en vogue.

Me with gorgeously long locks

1. Long hair is an excellent insulator.

Seriously. My major form of warming up in winter is letting my hair down. It's the only form of fur I have, and a thick layer of it covers my head, neck, and shoulders, creating the optimum cold weather gear.

Short Hair 

Long Hair

2. Long hair attracts friends.

This is so true. It's like girls can't look at this:

and not turn it into something like this:

Long hair is the ultimate toy. You can twist it, braid it, and if it's long enough, put the tip of it over your lip and make a mustache. This makes a good quality in a friend, because a friend with long hair will let you mess with it as long as you please, which is a very diverting exercise. Obviously there must be a subconscious pull to befriend those fortunates with long hair, or at least to befriend their hair.

3. Instant Katniss Costume

Following along the braid theme, long hair gives you an instant Katniss Everdeen costume. It's a good fallback if you're invited to a costume party or are out of ideas for Halloween. It's easy, and everyone should be able to recognize you unless you live under rock or some variation thereof.

4. Pocahontas' Self-Confidence

Every time the wind blows, my hair does this:

It makes me feel like a goddess. The feel of the wind whipping back my hair from my face is exhilarating, and makes me feel like I'm riding a horse into the sunset of some amazing mythical land.

5. Stealth Device

Forget Cold War planes invisible to radar, long hair is surely the greatest stealth device ever in existence. Whenever I want to just shut out the world or hide my face when I don't feel like being in view, I can just casually flip my hair so that it creates a stylish shield in front of my face.

Or I can listen to my iPod undetected. When would I want to do this, you may ask. But are there ever times where your just talking to someone you really don't want to be talking to, or listening to someone else's bad music on a road trip? Simply hide earbuds in the depths of the long cascades of your hair. Problem solved.