Busy week ahead. Tonight’s a final in theology, my least favorite class in a long time. Tomorrow night I have the option of taking a final in psychology, but I’m skipping it because the prof is dropping our lowest individual test score and because I have 78/80 on every single test so far (which is kind of creepy). Wednesday I have to appear before a judge to see if s/he wants me to serve on a grand jury; we also have a chorus-small-group rehearsal. Thursday morning I have an appointment to get a permanent crown on tooth #12; this will finish the work on that tooth. And this weekend, Fred and I are going to Chicago for a Brotherhood of the Phoenix event.

More later, if I get a chance.

Last night was the next chapter of the Tale of Tooth Twelve: Post and Filling.

After the excavation, the dentist left a temporary filling over the gaping hole. I managed to crack this temp filling on Tuesday night while eating a granola bar (damned delicious almonds), revealing the rubbery plug providing support underneath the filling. As it turns out, though, this was no big deal; I was careful about crunchy things for the next day or so and everything was OK.

The procedure itself was cake. The nerve tissue in that tooth had been removed during the excavation, so anesthetic wasn’t really necessary. Granted, the cold air on my gums was uncomfortable, and the way the temporary filling got drilled out was unnerving, but otherwise things were OK.

Right now I have a post embedded in the actual root canal; this provides internal structural support to the natural and artificial surfaces. (I think it’s some sort of plastic but I’m not certain.) On top of that is an epoxy filling; apparently I was the first at that office to receive that particular sort of epoxy, because the dentist and his assistants were all geeking out over the consistency and finish and set time.

I get the crown in a couple weeks. After that, #12 will be basically fixed.

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This past weekend I got my tax refund. Once some bills were paid and a sizable chunk of money applied towards existing debt, Fred and I went to replace a few articles of clothing and a few things around the house. We also did some minor splurging here and there; the largest single purchase of the weekend was a new iPod for me, as my previous one bit the big one. Other notable purchases include some work-type clothes and a new DVD player-slash-stereo to replace the dying separate units.

The best part of buying new stuff is the sheer novelty of new stuff, of course. The second-best part, though, is getting rid of that which is no longer useful or functional, and we got pretty extreme with our clothing purge. For about half an hour we dug through every corner of the closet and dressers and basket of just-done laundry —

• Do you wear this?
• No.
• ‘k. *chucks another item onto pile; grabs next thing* Do you wear this?

etc. By the time we were finished the bed was COVERED in old, donatable clothing, and the trash can was overflowing with old, non-donatable socks ‘n’ underwear. Now that all of that is gone, though, we can just about fit all of our clothing into a single dresser, and there is sufficient room in the closet to root idly through for the Perfect Look [tm] without having to remove crap first.

I will confess, though, that in our search for the aforementioned DVD/stereo, we very nearly sprung for a new TV. So far we’ve been able to resist, although I can see the day approaching where we’ll let down our guard. (I have found myself researching brands and models, and this is rarely a good sign.)

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Fred has a new site for his emerging practice. He’s adding content regularly, so keep an eye on MetaWholeness.

Round 1A of the ol’ root canal was Tuesday evening. This particular round is best described as “excavation”. My upper-left quadrant was numbed, and a dental dam was stuck around the affected tooth to isolate it from my tongue and saliva. The dentist and his assistant worked to scrape out any infected tissue from the affected tooth, using files and drills and other nifty tools. An hour later I had an X-ray of the affected area (to verify that the canal had been successfully cleared out), a temporary filling, an appointment card, and a keep-on-flossing lecture.

Thanks to the dental dam, I couldn’t really see or taste or smell anything that was happening. I did, however, enjoy checking all the tools the dentist and his assistant used: the little files with handles that remind me of resistors, the crazy-long drill bits, the electronic “you’ve hit bone” sensor hooked to my cheek… my inner tool-geek was LOVING IT. I just wish I could have seen those tools at work; for a few minutes there I wondered how weird it would sound to request a mirror on the ceiling for future procedures.

On the whole, though, the procedure was low-grade sensory deprivation. I could only see a little bit to either side; I could only hear the drill and the storm and the endlessly looping video presentation from the next patient over; I could only feel the way the drill’s vibrations resonated elsewhere in my skull; I could only smell the chlorine-based solution used to sterilize tools; and I could only taste latex, and in a non-sexy sort of way. I’m an introvert in real life, though, so the whole experience turned out to be a good time to rearrange things in my own head and recharge for the coming days.

In preliminary analysis, I don’t see why everybody cringes at the mention of “root canal”; it really wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever had done. I may change my tune in a few weeks, though.

OK, so yes, I am posting more on my ongoing dental saga. It’s a notable situation in my life at the moment, though, so tough cookies.

Last night was the initial wave of treatment on #12. After a very bitter topical anesthetic and some injected lidocaine the dentist and his assistant got to work scouring out infected portions of tooth. (Even though I couldn’t feel a thing, I could hear every scrape through bone conduction; this was rather unpleasant.) Because the infection has reached the pulp as well, a simple filling is inappropriate, so I have an appointment on Super Duper Fat Tuesday to get started with the root canal.

There is a temporary filling in there now to protect the exposed tissues. It feels a bit weird, mostly because I had just gotten used to the minor gap left when the original tooth broke. It looks natural at first glance, though further examination reminds me of the germ at the center of a kernel of corn.

More on this later, as things develop further.

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I have created a monster…

We’ve been looking at houses lately, thanks in part to the price cuts that result from poor sales and in part to a super-sweet benefit of the ol’ employer (forgivable loans for down payments!). Sadly, though, just when we find a neat place in our price range in a qualifying neighborhood, it gets sold FAST. (Aside: we should so market this. “Find a buyer! Just pay us $X; we’ll feign an interest in your place and somebody else will snatch it up!”)

In discussing our situation the other day, we considered that maybe it just isn’t time for us to buy just yet. I attempted to be facetious and sent Fred a link to the Tumbleweed Tiny House Company, saying “let’s just buy some cheap land and get one of these”.

I didn’t expect him to fall completely in love with the idea.

Granted, those are brilliantly efficient designs, especially on the mobile-sized plans that don’t waste a single cubic inch. They don’t cost very much, their energy efficiency is just sick — one woman averages $5 PER MONTH for all of her cooking and heating fuel needs — and they can theoretically go just about anyplace. I would love to have one of these (the Weebee!) as a vacation home or as a little writing studio or something, but I don’t know that I could stand to live in one full-time.

Fred’s coming around. We’re still thinking small — it’ll save us heating, cooling, and electrical costs, plus it’ll be easier and faster to clean and it will prompt us to ditch a bunch of stuff we don’t actually use — but he’s no longer talking about chucking all our furniture and moving into a hundred square feet.

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Yeah, writing studio. What of it?

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New server is running pretty well as long as I remember not to emerge world very often. (After all, it IS only a 333MHz processor.) I’m still kinda sorta maybe thinking of installing distcc and having my work box do the heavy lifting on behalf of the home server.

That said, I see that Apple’s Time Capsule — you know, the OTHER bit of hardware Stevie introduced the other day — would consolidate storage and all network infrastructure into one pretty pretty package that maxes out at only 30W (less than either the drive enclosure or the laptop). I just don’t think I’m ready to drop $300 or $500 on it, though.

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Time to go; have to eat my very soft lunch.

Had my big cleaning appointment at the dentist’s yesterday. Happily, the hygenist was able to round off the sharp bit of the one broken tooth, so my tongue is now on the road to recovery without the assistance of candle wax.

I got some super-fluoridated prescription toothpaste and mouthwash out of the visit. Extra fluoride aside, the toothpaste’s big claim to fame is that it’s kind of sparkly. The mouthwash, on the other hand… It tastes like a cocktail made of cheap gin and the “green death” variety of NyQuil, which at first read makes me think “eww” even though it’s actually a somewhat pleasant, grown-up juniper-and-licorice flavor. And yes, it does contain ethyl alcohol — 11.6%! — so it has a satisfying burn that fades as it soaks into my still-sore gums. I suspect if I rinse long enough I may even develop a minor buzz, just from the mouthwash. score!

I also got a toothbrush. Unlike my childhood dentist, though, I didn’t get to choose the color I wanted from a big tray. Phooey. (It is a nice toothbrush, though; it gets all the nooks and crannies nicely, and it has a little tongue-scraper thingy on the back of the head.)

Go back there Wednesday to get #12 taken care of. In the meantime, I’m thinking about going easy on acidic foods and beverages, as they WILL hurt.