August 29th, 2005


(no subject)

Some days you get the bear...

My latest Sculpey head fell over while firing, which, because of the quite large antlers, resulted in some serious burnification, a fact I noticed right as the house was filling with billows of carcinogenic smoke.

Head was a total loss. On the bright side, I got it all cleaned up without anything catching fire, and learned a valuable lesson about the proper way of propping stuff up for firing.

Darn, I liked him, too. He had character. Still, when I redo him, I'll probably give him antelope horns instead of deer antlers, which'll look better. And into every life, after all, a little rain must fall...

And now, I must go forth and get more Sculpey with which to recreate him!

(no subject)

So today, after long months of insurance wrangling, in which I first exceeded my yearly dental allowance, and had to wait nearly six months, which was then complicated by James's company switching dental insurance providers halfway through the process, forcing us to start back at square one (or actually square zero, 'cos I now had a known pre-existing condition, which thankfully turned out not to be an issue) with a much crappier insurer, everything was approved and I went in to get my new crown put on.

Except that they had to take an impression first, so the crown could be made to fit. Which they hadn't done right after the root canal, 'cos of the insurance wrangling, so I had that temp in for a loooong time.


See, after about eight months with a temporary crown, the gums, like a hedge, get a bit overgrown. They tried yanking them back a coupla times, and then, at last, they got out the hedge clippers and did a little oral topiary.

I knew it was a bad sign when the nurse leaned over and said "Honey, y'all evah had kids?"

"...gnofb?" I said.

"'Cos this is gonna feel like yo' gums just had a baby."


These are not comforting words. When she handed me six Advil and a glass of water a few minutes later, this was exceedingly welcome, but again, not comforting. The Novocaine is still in full force--they gave me four syringes worth, after the first batch got metabolized a teensy bit too quickly--but I can tell already it's gonna be pain--a light, sharp, raw pain, rather than a bone-deep ache, significantly less than the mule-kick agony of a root-canal in the making. On the scale of pains, perhaps only a 3 or a 4. Nevertheless, pain.

I had hoped to get some stuff done today, like my second Beastiary card, or the recreation of the Horned Sculpey Thingy, but instead, I believe Ursula will be spending some quality time with her bottle of Vicodin.