The Visible Woman...April 22, 2003

what's on your mind?

It's funny how you get one thing in your head.

I went to the dentist this morning to get my teeth cleaned. I still have dental insurance but after COBRA is finished, we won't. Which is fine. Anyway, I have had enamel wear for a long time and have new crowns on a lot of my teeth. The dentists say I grind my teeth and I'm sure they are right but I never wanted to wear a night guard because I also have the most active salivary glands in the world and having something foreign in my mouth would make me drool big time. I could see me drowning in drool.

Anyway, I think I can see wear in my new crowns (although they feel fine and smooth) and I figure the dentist is going to point this out. I feel a little like a failure because I grind my teeth in my sleep. Of course, one isn't even aware of it in one's sleep so it is harder to stop than a waking habit although those are tough, too. (I rub the back of my neck when awake.)

Then I go in for my cleaning and the dentist doesn't seem to notice anything as he scrapes off the plaque. He does comment on the need for whitening on the lower teeth (which are still my own and stained with coffee over the years). He does recommend doing some fix up on other back teeth that need repair because of old, cracked fillings and stuff. Since uneven teeth allegedly makes grinding worse, I figure yeah why not. Also, we can get some of it back if we do it right away while we still have the dental insurance.

Teeth grinding is a funny thing. I am totally unaware of it except for my enamel loss over the years. FFP never mentions it. (It can be loud but isn't always.) I had a friend in high school whose Dad would grind his teeth so loud you could hear it all over their house. It sounded like a machine grinding something. He would go to sleep early and we would be up watching TV and studying and stuff...this was my best friend and I was always over there, staying overnight a lot.

The jury seems to be out on whether teeth grinding (bruxism is the technical term) is stress-related. I feel completely unstressed. I can only muster a little stress about my teeth grinding problem. I mean, I feel great, I'm never hungry (meaning without access to food), I'm retired and I'm not in Baghdad. I have fun every day. I remark every day about how good I feel. Especially if I haven't had too much to drink the night before! I don't have any major disorders. No cancer, no heart disease. I have a not too bad case of psoraisis, I grind my teeth and my hair looks silly when I get out of bed.

Who knows about the teeth-grinding thing? My friend's Dad, of course, the one who was a big time tooth grinder, attempted suicide after we were in college. His daughter and I were roommates for a couple of years in college. And he succeeded in killing himself a few years later. He was a strange chauvanistic man who loved his family and seemed to want to be a success but wasn't.

After I'm through at the dentist and have clean teeth and an appointment to repair old fillings, it is pouring down rain outside. I wait for a slight lull and make a run for it. It was rainy all day but I don't think we got enough rain. But there was a pretty good shower there at 2222/360 for a few minutes although the low water area at Bull Creek hadn't flooded. You haven't got a really good rain until they close that stretch.

I work on my office organization project. My new idea is to start a new set of files in my big filing cabinet, gradually filing and consolidating all the files and papers from there and everywhere. Got that? Me either. But I work on it. And, of course, I have to look through the files, discarding clippings that no longer seem important and wondering why credit card statements from the mid-nineties shouldn't be shredded. I think I'm making some progress...if I can just go fast enough to overtake the influx of papers, magazines and stuff. I really want a neat, workable home office now that I spend so much time here.

The maid shows up. It's about 1pm. I decide to go hide from her. I go to 34th Street and have a spinach salad with mandarin oranges and walnuts and a vinaigrette. I am reading The Object Stares Back all the while. I then go to the club and do 50 minutes on the bike reading the book followed by some ab and back work.

I shower up at the club (to steer clear of the maid) and go home. Maid is gone early. She does keep the floors and fixtures clean. She doesn't do it at a completely predictable time. FFP says she will be back to finish. We used to engage maids for a longer time each week, getting laundry done and folded, garbage taken out, more dusting, etc. What we have now should be completely adequate...in other words I should be able to fill in the gaps and we should have a really clean house. Where does my time go? (Yeah, writing a journal about not cleaning, I know. And about not reading the newspapers, magazines and books piled about.)

Soon it is time to prepare for the dinner we are giving at Zoot. We fill a couple of boxes with wine. Three bottles of Puligny-Montrachet, 1998. Three bottles of Veuve Clicquot (just Orange Label...there's an economic bust on, you know). Three bottles (.375) of 1997 Chateau Bastor Lamontagne Sauterne. A Magnum of 1989 Three Palms Duckhorn Merlot. A 1991 Fonesca Port. Oh, and a couple of bottles of 1993 Silver Oak in case the Duckhorn had gone.

The Zoot guys (Mark, Stewart, Mike, Carlos, etc.) had set up the back room for us. Our dearest Kisha had dropped off beautiful flowers. Guests started to arrive early and we had champagne and passed appetizers. (Goat Cheese Tart, Smoked Salmon on Cucumber, Beef Tartare...all delicous.) After a longish cocktail hour during which we watched the later arrivals to see if they would notice Lady Bird and Linda and a granddaughter in the front room, we sat down to the Sauterne with Foie Gras Terrine. Next came the Montrachet with Roasted monkfish and wild asparagus and morels and quinoa.

We paused over lemon verbena granita and continued over herb-crusted rack of lamb with wild ramps and roasted eggplant puree. With the Duckhorn which comported itself well and saved the Silver Oak for another day.

Deep breath. Warm El Rey Chocolate Cake and the Port. I couldn't finish the dessert. But I did everything else justice.

You would think...we would go home and drop into bed. But we are party animals. We go to FS and listened to Rebecca. She plays It's a Wonderful World and Straighten Up and Fly Right and For All We Know for me. I give her a nice tip and we give one to the guy at the curb who looked after the car, too. In hard times, you should give nice tips to those still serving the public, with maybe a little less traffic to get tips from. We have a sherry to cap off our evening. Rebecca warns of cops on the way home...says she got a speeding ticket. Sure enough we see a cop pull someone over on W. 6th. (We couldn't see he'd done anything.) We see a guy pulled over on the entrance ramp to Mopac, too. (Shouldn't one be able to accelerate just there?) On Mopac, however, we are passed going the speed limit by two vehicles going at least fifteen miles over. Where are the cops now?

It's quite late when we get home. It will be good to sleep a little late in the morning. We can do that, even FFP, if he delays his workout until evening. A nice luxury.

getting just the right wildflower shot is so important

yard art

"THe world is full of things we do not see, and when we begin to notice them, we also notice how little we can ever see."
James Elkins, The Object Stares Back , 1996

JUST TYPING
focus here
focus there
focus on failure
focus on pleasure
choose

			what's on your mind? It's funny how you get one thing in your head. I went to the dentist this morning to get my teeth cleaned. I still have dental insurance but after COBRA is finished, we won't. Which is fine. Anyway, I have had enamel wear for a long time and have new crowns on a lot of my teeth. The dentists say I grind my teeth and I'm sure they are right but I never wanted to wear a night guard because I also have the most active salivary glands in the world and having something foreign in my mouth would make me drool big time. I could see me drowning in drool. Anyway, I think I can see wear in my new crowns (although they feel fine and smooth) and I figure the dentist is going to point this out. I feel a little like a failure because I grind my teeth in my sleep. Of course, one isn't even aware of it in one's sleep so it is harder to stop than a waking habit although those are tough, too. (I rub the back of my neck when awake.) Then I go in for my cleaning and the dentist doesn't seem to notice anything as he scrapes off the plaque. He does comment on the need for whitening on the lower teeth (which are still my own and stained with coffee over the years). He does recommend doing some fix up on other back teeth that need repair because of old, cracked fillings and stuff. Since uneven teeth allegedly makes grinding worse, I figure yeah why not. Also, we can get some of it back if we do it right away while we still have the dental insurance. Teeth grinding is a funny thing. I am totally unaware of it except for my enamel loss over the years. FFP never mentions it. (It can be loud but isn't always.) I had a friend in high school whose Dad would grind his teeth so loud you could hear it all over their house. It sounded like a machine grinding something. He would go to sleep early and we would be up watching TV and studying and stuff...this was my best friend and I was always over there, staying overnight a lot. The jury seems to be out on whether teeth grinding (bruxism is the technical term) is stress-related. I feel completely unstressed. I can only muster a little stress about my teeth grinding problem. I mean, I feel great, I'm never hungry (meaning without access to food), I'm retired and I'm not in Baghdad. I have fun every day. I remark every day about how good I feel. Especially if I haven't had too much to drink the night before! I don't have any major disorders. No cancer, no heart disease. I have a not too bad case of psoraisis, I grind my teeth and my hair looks silly when I get out of bed. Who knows about the teeth-grinding thing? My friend's Dad, of course, the one who was a big time tooth grinder, attempted suicide after we were in college. His daughter and I were roommates for a couple of years in college. And he succeeded in killing himself a few years later. He was a strange chauvanistic man who loved his family and seemed to want to be a success but wasn't. After I'm through at the dentist and have clean teeth and an appointment to repair old fillings, it is pouring down rain outside. I wait for a slight lull and make a run for it. It was rainy all day but I don't think we got enough rain. But there was a pretty good shower there at 2222/360 for a few minutes although the low water area at Bull Creek hadn't flooded. You haven't got a really good rain until they close that stretch. I work on my office organization project. My new idea is to start a new set of files in my big filing cabinet, gradually filing and consolidating all the files and papers from there and everywhere. Got that? Me either. But I work on it. And, of course, I have to look through the files, discarding clippings that no longer seem important and wondering why credit card statements from the mid-nineties shouldn't be shredded. I think I'm making some progress...if I can just go fast enough to overtake the influx of papers, magazines and stuff. I really want a neat, workable home office now that I spend so much time here. The maid shows up. It's about 1pm. I decide to go hide from her. I go to 34th Street and have a spinach salad with mandarin oranges and walnuts and a vinaigrette. I am reading The Object Stares Back all the while. I then go to the club and do 50 minutes on the bike reading the book followed by some ab and back work. I shower up at the club (to steer clear of the maid) and go home. Maid is gone early. She does keep the floors and fixtures clean. She doesn't do it at a completely predictable time. FFP says she will be back to finish. We used to engage maids for a longer time each week, getting laundry done and folded, garbage taken out, more dusting, etc. What we have now should be completely adequate...in other words I should be able to fill in the gaps and we should have a really clean house. Where does my time go? (Yeah, writing a journal about not cleaning, I know. And about not reading the newspapers, magazines and books piled about.) Soon it is time to prepare for the dinner we are giving at Zoot. We fill a couple of boxes with wine. Three bottles of Puligny-Montrachet, 1998. Three bottles of Veuve Clicquot (just Orange Label...there's an economic bust on, you know). Three bottles (.375) of 1997 Chateau Bastor Lamontagne Sauterne. A Magnum of 1989 Three Palms Duckhorn Merlot. A 1991 Fonesca Port. Oh, and a couple of bottles of 1993 Silver Oak in case the Duckhorn had gone. The Zoot guys (Mark, Stewart, Mike, Carlos, etc.) had set up the back room for us. Our dearest Kisha had dropped off beautiful flowers. Guests started to arrive early and we had champagne and passed appetizers. (Goat Cheese Tart, Smoked Salmon on Cucumber, Beef Tartare...all delicous.) After a longish cocktail hour during which we watched the later arrivals to see if they would notice Lady Bird and Linda and a granddaughter in the front room, we sat down to the Sauterne with Foie Gras Terrine. Next came the Montrachet with Roasted monkfish and wild asparagus and morels and quinoa. We paused over lemon verbena granita and continued over herb-crusted rack of lamb with wild ramps and roasted eggplant puree. With the Duckhorn which comported itself well and saved the Silver Oak for another day. Deep breath. Warm El Rey Chocolate Cake and the Port. I couldn't finish the dessert. But I did everything else justice. You would think...we would go home and drop into bed. But we are party animals. We go to FS and listened to Rebecca. She plays It's a Wonderful World and Straighten Up and Fly Right and For All We Know for me. I give her a nice tip and we give one to the guy at the curb who looked after the car, too. In hard times, you should give nice tips to those still serving the public, with maybe a little less traffic to get tips from. We have a sherry to cap off our evening. Rebecca warns of cops on the way home...says she got a speeding ticket. Sure enough we see a cop pull someone over on W. 6th. (We couldn't see he'd done anything.) We see a guy pulled over on the entrance ramp to Mopac, too. (Shouldn't one be able to accelerate just there?) On Mopac, however, we are passed going the speed limit by two vehicles going at least fifteen miles over. Where are the cops now? It's quite late when we get home. It will be good to sleep a little late in the morning. We can do that, even FFP, if he delays his workout until evening. A nice luxury.

	getting just the right wildflower shot is so important yard art "THe world is full of things we do not see, and when we begin to notice them, we also notice how little we can ever see." James Elkins, The Object Stares Back , 1996
	JUST TYPING focus here focus there focus on failure focus on pleasure choose

Tuesday, April 22, 2003