Mentisms

What better way to reenter the blogging arena than with a good old fashioned tag? Natalie Nelson posted this a couple of weeks ago and was probably feeling totally dejected when I didn't respond... Actually, she probably could have cared less, but I'd like to maintain my well practiced self-delusion, thinking my opinion actually matters to people. But when I finally found it, I responded to her witty answers in a comment, wherein the word verification was "Mentisms." I think I found something to add to the vernacular.

Mentisms (pl. n.): Musings of a person with questionable mental faculties. Ex: "Three Men and a Little Lady" was full of mentisms today.

So here they are... Mentisms galore in the form of descriptors about me.

I Am: Freakishly short
I Want: Chocolate at any given moment
I Have: A big butt (see above)
I Miss: Northern California
I Fear: Hurting my patients
I Hear: Wayne playing the X-box
I Search: For a complete set of socks for the boys EVERY day. Where do those little buggers go?
I Wonder: Why, when you have children, does everything on your entire body change shape, but we can't grow an extra hand or two to keep up with all the multitasking.
I Regret: Torturing my little sister so mercilessly as a kid
I Love: My boys... All three of them.
I Forgive: But there better be a darn good excuse for the offense. (I know, I know... Not very Christlike.)
I Ache: When I see a special-needs patient that is not being well cared for.
I Always: Cringe when somebody smacks their food.
I Try: To whistle, but it sounds like I'm just hyperventilating.
I Am Not: Frou-frou.
I Seem: Like I know what I'm doing.
I Know: A lot of random crap that will never matter in my life. I'm a trivia trap.
I Feel: Bummed that the wonderful Holiday weekend is drawing to a close.
I Dance: In a manner that brings great embarrassment to my children.
I Dream: Very rarely. I have difficulty sleeping.
I Give: and I give and I give...
I Listen: To the most ridiculous conversations between my boys sometimes. And I think to myself, "Where in the world did you come from? Surely you don't have my DNA!"
I Sing: Like a Mermaid these days.
I Laugh: Quite often. Wayne is a funny, funny man.
I Can't: Believe how bad our economy sucks right now!
I Write: My mentisms for all the world to read.
I Cry: Very rarely, but usually at the lamest of times, and usually when I have wicked PMS.
I Sleep: With lots of pillows, elbowing Wayne whenever he comes near me, flopping back-to-front and front-to-back... Basically, I'm a high-maintenance sleeper, and even if all the conditions are just perfect, I still don't achieve much in the way of a good REM cycle.
I Am not always: Tolerant of whining. Correction...I am rarely tolerant of whining.
I See: Christmas decorations that need to be put up.
I Need: A massage and a great hairstyle.
I Should: Finish my book.

Eventually, I will put up a post of things that went on while we were on our forced hiatus from the blogosphere. For now, I tag anybody who is related to me (In-laws count).

Thank Goodness!

And thank Remy, who has kindly offered up a mildly temperamental laptop with power cord issues for our use right now. We are finally able to rejoin the blogging world once again. No longer will you have to wait weeks on end to hear my rambling, nonsensical pontifications. No longer will I have to wait after work to get a quick peek at other blogs, but not have enough time to comment. Oh! There will be comments once again! Such comments will I give! Get ready blogging world... I'm BAAA-AAACK!!!

Surreal...

Our computer is still D-E-A-D, but couldn't NOT write about what I experienced yesterday.
After work at UCLA, I emerged from the children's dental clinic and found about six helicopters circling the skies. All the buses had been rerouted, and I found myself wandering down the streets to find a way to get home to watch Hayden's chorus concert. Traffic had stopped. Sirens wailed. Streets were blocked off. Random people with signs were coming up to anybody who would listen saying, "If you wanna join in, we're converging on the Mormon church!"

...And by "Mormon Church," I knew they meant the Los Angeles Temple, which was just a few blocks away.

As I plodded along, now within a couple of blocks of the temple, and a half a mile from work, more sirens began to wail. On three flat bed trucks, standing ready to jump off as soon as they reached their destination, dozens of police in full riot gear made their way to the sacred, usually serene grounds that people of my faith worship.

Let me make clear, this is not an ordinary meeting house. This is a step beyond--where we make sacred vows to our Heavenly Father; where we kneel across an altar to marry for time and eternity. The interior is usually so quiet, you can almost hear a pin drop. Once patrons enter, they shrug off the cares of the outside world and devote their minds and hearts to prayer, meditation, and learning. The environment is peace and tranquility in its purest essence.

But yesterday, the outside world came clamoring to the temple gates. And with their venom and a form of bigotry I have never experienced before, a SWAT team followed in their wake. 2000-3000 gay and lesbian advocates loudly expressed their disapproval at the outcome of the recent Proposition 8, which put in place a constitutional amendment to ban gay marriage. Wrongfully, they assumed the many members of the church that contributed to the cause had an agenda that included hate.

I thought this picture summed up the hostility that I witnessed very succinctly:
In the background is a sign saying "No on 8... End Hate." I see in the foreground the very personification of hate, as an angry man shouts and incites contention at the top of his lungs.

I have many thoughts on this battle that rages, and I hope you'll indulge me as I purge my system of these thoughts:

1. Can you imagine what would have happened if this protest had been organized in front of a Muslim Mosque or Jewish Synagogue? Or what about in front of one of the Catholic churches or Baptist ministries that inspired "Yes on 8" sentiments to their parishioners? 70% of minorities in California voted "Yes" on this very matter, but you don't see angry protesters yelling horrible insults to Blacks or Hispanics as a whole. One would never even dream of doing such a thing in a state which cries "Tolerance!" for everyone. Apparently, these folks have no tolerance for Mormons, because we are often marginalized and misunderstood. We are thought by many to be a satanic cult, or a dangerous brainwashing machine, hell-bent on converting the populous whether they like it or not. We are often confused with the polygamous FLDS-type sects that wed their 14-year old neighbors. And this, along with an ideology that does not encompass gay marriage (but does NOT diminish gay civil unions), has put us on the radar of many who wish to stir things up against members of our faith.
2. The political process went forth. The majority has spoken. Other states like Florida and Arizona passed similar amendments on the same day. They are not suffering the same insults as we are here in the Left-Coast. I am reminded of a boy who came up to me on my first day of High School in Georgia. He sat down across from me at lunch, peered at me with skepticism and said, "Did y'all have a hard time gettin' dates out thar in California?" When I answered,"No. Why?" He said, "Well, aren't all them guys out there gay?" I was taken aback, because I had not expected that perception of California... Surfer dudes--yes. Gay guys--No. But this is another one of those events that is going to further embitter people about gays and perpetuate the reputation of California as "The Land of Fruits and Nuts."
3. I have no ill will towards gays. I have worked with several. I know them to be regular people who feel deeply about their partners. I am NOT a gay basher because I voted yes on Prop 8. I do NOT feel any hatred toward them. But PLEASE don't spit on my beliefs and desecrate the things that I believe are holy because your cause did not persuade the majority. We are not tyrannical, bigots as you spew in your negative campaigns and protests. We simply believe in the sacred and divine institution of marriage between a man and a woman.

I walked the three-or-so miles home and managed to make it in time for Hayden's concert (which was great, by the way). But I will NEVER forget that walk. I will forever be changed by the imagery of that night: particularly the juxtiposition of the peaceful temple grounds and the SWAT team serving as a blockade to prevent violence on its soil. I now know I live within walking distance of a temple. I have blisters on my feet from the trek, but I know it's really only a stone's throw away. I have no excuse to take it for granted. If the protestors were aiming at putting into doubt my ideology or intimidate people like me into feeling shame at my faith, their plans sorely backfired. I have never desired more to enter those temple doors and shut out the ferocity of the world outside.

If you are interested, you can click on this link to see the LDS church's response to the recent protests.

Pardon My Absence...

It seems our computer has malfunctioned. Once it is replaced, I will stop wasting time at work putting up lame posts like this, and I can once again blog my usual nonsensical pontifications.

That's What She Said

Today we had a very informative lunch meeting with an electric toothbrush company. I've never really seen toothbrushes in this light before... EVER.

It all began innocently enough. The company rep (a very attractive woman in her late twenties) realized she had forgotten her laptop, which had her entire spiel on its hard drive. She excused herself to run to her car while we got situated and began to eat our lunches. A few moments later, she reentered the room, huffing and puffing.

"Whew! That seemed like it was long! ... That was a LONG, LONG run," she panted. "Does anybody mind if I take my coat off while I recover?"

A few enthusiastic nods from the males in the room... To which she responded in a manner that did not disappoint. Off came the grey pinstripe business suit coat. Beneath: a flesh colored cami and a pair of very perky high beams... BRALESS high beams. "Wow! I just cannot cool off! I am so hot right now!"

The tongues lolling out of their heads could have been mistaken for enthusiasm over their sandwiches, but it was pretty obvious that it was NOT the turkey cold cuts that were directing the guys' attention in the room.

The attending doctor turns to our chief resident and says, "I need to come to these lunch-and-learns more often! They're great! When did we start getting strippers for these things?"

As the presentation went on, her sales pitch was met with rapt attention from her many admirers. To finish things off, she informed us of one of the new features of the improved electric toothbrush she was pedaling. "Notice how nicely this one vibrates compared to the old one? See how this one is so much more vigorous than the other." Now she is holding up the twelve inch long vigorously vibrating hardware to give us an adequate visual. It continues to vigorously vibrate as she exclaims, "OH! And I almost forgot! These things are hermetically sealed! If you need to save yourself some time, you can just take this in the shower with you and do your thing in there!"

Super.

You'll Be a Dentist! You Have a Talent For Causing Things PAIN!

Parking at UCLA for dental appointments: $10

X-rays to start orthodontic treatment: $150

Orthodontic treatment while in residency: $0, but hours and hours of work.

Making your kid sit in the dental chair for two hours with his lips pulled out like a large-mouthed bass and gluing implements of traction and pain to all of his teeth: Priceless!

Yep. That's my oldest son in the chair as the process begins: Nathan is one of my first orthodontic victims... I mean, patients.

All told, Nate was a pretty great patient. He sat still throughout the very lengthy procedure. Even now, he's been amazingly cool about his new metal mouth, though eating is a bit tricky for now. But there's been no whining, "Ow! My teeth hurt! When do I get to get these off? I'm never going to show my face again!" (I actually had a patient go home with a bag over his head on the day we gave him his braces. Yah. That's MUCH less embarrassing than braces!)
Look at that widdle punim! My baby's all growed up!

Orange and black elastics: Very festive for this time of year.

Hayden needed something to do while his brother got all the attention. We cemented a little wire behind his bottom teeth to keep them from crowding, but his procedure was done in about 10 minutes. Luckily, the assistants found a few things to keep him busy... Like playing dress-up with him. Here's Dr. Hayden, complete with "bloody" gloves. Just remember, Hayden: If it doesn't fit, you must acquit!

He looks like he's enjoying this far too much! In fact, as he walked out to the car (still wearing his get-up, mind you), he said to me, "Maybe I will be a dentist when I grow up!" ...Certainly better than the NASCAR driver or hockey player aspirations that have always seemed to be his ultimate goals, but I hope this picture never surfaces while he's in practice!

To My Female Readers Only... Seriously! Chad, Dan, Jason, Bryce, etc. Do NOT Proceed or Things Will Get Awkward Between Us.

Husbands are funny creatures. For some reason I can't figure out, they do not understand buying feminine hygiene supplies. When Wayne and I first married, I discovered this Y chromosomal handicap that prevented him from being able to procure the proper accoutrements when Aunt Flo was coming to town. So, in our newlywed wisdom, we developed a system involving football team names:

• For those very heavy flow days, only Super will do. Super tampons = St. Louis RAMS.
• For moderate flow, Regular tampons. Regular = Washington REDSKINS.
• When the last vestiges of the week remain, I just need some pantyliners or Lite tampons. These = Cleveland BROWNS.

It's never failed.

Usually, though, I buy for myself and spare Wayne the disgrace of purchasing what is OBVIOUSLY for a female loved one. I never understood the shame men feel, but ...Whatever, you wusses! (I mean, it's not like I'm asking him to buy Queen Size Panty Hose, for crying out loud!).

I've learned that the humiliation is not isolated to male consumers purchasing for their desperate housewives. Bag Boys are not immune to the embarrassment. One time when I was very much in need of monthly supplies, while checking out at the grocery store late at night, a squeaky clean young man about 16 years old was bagging my groceries. On the conveyor belt lay four items: Super Tampax, Maxi Pads, Midol, and a value-pak of chocolate confections. The innocent young man (prior to looking at my purchases) addressed me in an oh-so-polite and cheerful manner and said, "How are you doing tonight, Ma'am?". Before I could reply, he glanced down at my supplies, turned beet red, stared blankly at my necessities, and walked away... Without even bagging them.

Someday, in another life, he'll be making those emergency runs for his wife.

Hope she likes football.