Censorship, Memories and The Hot Dentist...

Carrie Bradshaw somehow did it so that no one was offended, no one assumed she was talking about them. So, can I do it? I realize one can google my name (smart one Sarah - having my IP address be my full name. By smart, I mean retarded) and read pretty much everything about the inner-workings of my life; my dating, my family, friends, dogs, shelter work, job at firm, etc. etc. etc. So, I ask myself, "do I censor?" Clearly I will not censor however I do have to be cognizant of people's feelings. However, this blog is actually read by people who actually really enjoy it real strangers who enjoy it so, I think it only be keeping true to myself and my readers to not censor. And put myself out there. Although, I vow to myself and my friends and family this blog will not become my way of communicating and confronting issues we have; those I vow to communicate directly.

This morning as I was laying in bed in the midst of 12 legs, 12 paws, 3 lapping tongues and a few Chewbacca noises it occured to me how precious memories are. Tyler was all snuggled up to me and I closed my eyes and prayed I would never forget that moment. That, when he is gone, I will remember the way his fur felt, the way he smelled, the way he nudged me, the noises he makes, the way his chest moved up and down when he breathed. I can't remember what Misha smelled like. I can't remember what she sounded like, I can barely remember what she felt like. I can however remember how she looked at me with her beautiful brown doe eyes. She was so gorgeous. I went to dinner last night with M, we sat outside, the weather was perfect probably 65 and overcast, and there was a little 2-man keyboard/drum duo playing, then a woman with a gorgeous voice, Millie, would sing. I just sat there thinking, chances are this wont work out but I always want to remember this moment. Then I felt his hand on my leg and just smiled. Memories.

Earlier today I took the dogs to Penn Valley. Stella wouldn't leave my side, Tyler keep running up to much larger, un-nuetered males, all puffed up, and Max had to mark absolutely every blade of grass. And dog. I dont want to forget that either. The weather was (again) perfect, the dogs were happy, I was happy, great conversation with other dog-lovers (and there were very few who were obviously from breeders!) and the Roasterie even donated coffee. It was such a perfect morning!

Tommy and Bibi and my little Peanut Head came over last night. I told them this following story and I can honestly say I have not seen them laugh this hard. Ever. So, thought I'd blog the following story...Last Thursday morning I had a dentist appt. At 7am. Yes, nice f-ing way to begin your day, huh? Well for anyone who knows me you know I am completely OCD about my teeth (and house!) I bleach, brush, floss, etc. so I didn't anticipate anything would come out of the check-up besides extremely white and clean teeth. Well it was a new dental office - up north, with my new insurance from the firm. I was wearing my little Ann Taylor "June Cleaver" dress with black heels however it was TORRENTIAL DOWNPOUR outside so I wore my flip-flops to get to and from the car. I walked in, and two women, Mary and Cammie, were at the front desk. It was 6:50am. I was the first person they'd seen that morning. I walked in, shook the rain off my umbrella, checked-in, and sat down. At this point, the front door opens and in walks Dr. McDreamy in his scrubs. I assumed this would be the only glimpse of him I would get, as everyone knows the hygenist cleans your teeth, and since I wouldn't have any issues, I wouldn't need to see the Dentist. So Courtney the cute hygenist, calls me into the room. I lay down, open my mouth, she compliments my teeth and my smile, proceeds to ask me 'yes' and 'no' questions while she violates my mouth, and takes the standard "bite-wing" xrays. Then I hear "You about ready for me Courtney?" and she says "Yes Dr. T" Well of course, at this point I can't see anything but the ceiling...then I felt him sit next to me, and he extended his hand and introduced himself, as CT (of course you know I wont give you his name) BUT point is he introduced himself on a first-name basis. The hygenist called him Dr. but, apparently I could call him C. So, C proceeds to compliment my teeth, look at the xrays, and tell me I have a very tiny cavity. I froze. I HATE NEEDLES. I HATE PAIN. I HATE DRILLS. AND I HATE CAVITIES. But mostly, at this point I was hating MCDREAMY. He also pointed out a teeny tiny little itty bitty chip that I have. He asked how it happened. Instead of telling him it was a drunken episode when I face-planted on my front step, I mumbled something about one of my dogs. He acted very interested and immediately wanted to know what kind of dogs, etc. Of course, I didn't mention I had 3. Nor that one was of the pitbull lineage. Now, back to the cavity. ..I immediately started panicking and shaking, and asked if I had to have it taken care of today. He smiled and placed his hand on my shoulder and said, "no, but you should." I started crying. YES I AM SPECIAL. Well, not really CRYING like sobbing, but tears were definitely streaming down my face. He was so concerned, and most likely shocked that I was a 33 year-old woman crying and panicked because of a cavity. He assured me it wouldn't hurt, he could give me a shot that wouldn't hurt. Then I really started panicking. "Ok, I will give you a topical so you wont even feel the needle, I promise, I am very good at giving shots." hee. hee. Mind in gutter. Okay, that is fine. So I made the appointment for 2 weeks away which, gives me 2 weeks to have a panic attack. I asked the receptionist if I would be able to go to work the next day and she looked at me like I had 3 heads. In addition to reassuring me that he would make my experience painless, C also told me he would file the chip in my perfect teeth. Ahh....my own McDreamy.

It's Saturday afternoon, I'm sitting on my big cushy chair with Stella - who is taking up 3/4 of the chair. Good thing I'm small, its lightly drizzling out. What a perfect day.