Washington has been a major trip. I’ve lived here now for 2 months on the dot, and my oh my how things are flying. My new job has been okay aside from major management disarray. The shop is owned by an older couple who are fiercely independent to a fault. Overbooking themselves, getting stressed out, snapping at each other in front of me, even snapping at me. The other day I received a lecture about my posture, and a lesson on how to ‘sit in a way that is more attractive.’ I sit Indian style in my chair. I always have. That lesson will fall on deaf ears because I am who I am and I’m not offering my beauty. Im offering my excellent office management skills. Take it or leave it, but if you leave it you’re fucked. The place is chaos. The female owner is nice at times, needlessly cruel at others, rough around the edges and very flighty. It’s hard to nail her down to get anything done so I have to remind her frequently. I don’t mind doing that, but if I’m made to feel like a bother because I’m trying to keep things running, that’s where I begin to disconnect. I’ve begun simply writing out daily lists of things I’ve reminded her of 3x or more. I won’t chase her. She looks at me like I’m stupid when I hand her these lists, and that’s fine. That’s how I will operate in that regard. That’s all I’m going to say about that specifically, and we shall keep moving: The dogs are thriving. Mugsy has a little bit of a cough, so I’ve been calling around trying to find a new vet for him so I can get him in this week. Mostly every reputable vet is booked out for a few weeks, so I’ve just left messages with other vets and am hoping for the best. Yuna is doing well as ever. She will be 12 in the fall. My heart hurts when I see how she has slowed down, can’t jump like she used to, and has very few teeth left. She was never down with having her teeth brushed. I suppose that’s on me for not trying harder. Extractions to come very soon. I felt in my soul that something was up with my teeth after getting my braces off. My bite was off, I was very slightly chopping teeth eating soft foods, and I couldn’t get my mouth in a comfortable position to sleep at night. So, I researched the most reputable orthodontist in town and went in for a consultation. Turns out my former orthodontist completely screwed me. He, in the words of this new orthodontist, gave me the ‘cosmetic fix lite.’ He straightened my very front teeth enough to look pretty and all, but failed to address functional problems. They took a series of photos of my teeth and sat me down. They explained, while showing proof and examples of similar cases, everything present that should NOT be present after almost three years of braces. For example, my top right tooth, the one to the right of my right top front tooth? Gods, I do not know the name for it. Hope you got a visual from that awful description. That was always shorter than the others. My former orthodontist told me that this tooth was impossible to move, and that it was chipped which was why it was shorter than the others. Even after braces it had the appearance of a snaggle tooth. I wasn’t happy with it, but I felt prettier and my teeth were straighter, so I was happy enough to ignore it. My bite is off, multiple teeth are far off from where they’re supposed to be located. My top teeth were not pulled down to where they’re supposed to be. It’s all a mess. Even my overbite is still present! So, I have braces again as of a few weeks ago. I’d be more angry than I am if that top right snaggle tooth hadn’t already come all the way down into position where it is supposed to be. Almost three years of treatment previously, and that man didn’t give enough of a fuck to do what this orthodontist has done in mere weeks. My teeth are already night and day straighter. They gave me 20% off because they felt so bad about what my former orthodontist did to me. They told me how sorry they are that I trusted a medical professional with my mouth and he took advantage of my ignorance. That man knew that I was raised very poor, and that I was so happy to get the opportunity to do this for myself. He was always too busy to take more than a few minutes with me, but he seemed so genuine. He really connected with me at times. I had started my first treatment with a deposit and made monthly payments. I had it paid off within a year or so. I will say, I did notice that once I made the final payment, my time in the waiting room was substantially longer and they did not spend nearly as much time with me, or communicating with me. It was confusing, simply because I was naive. I’m sad about the fact that I was so naive and trusting and received a dagger in the back for it, but I’m also excited and hopeful already seeing results from a man who had the balls to sit me down and say “your teeth do not look good, they do not function well, and I’m sorry, but if we don’t fix this, you will chip all of them.” The honesty was what hit me the most. I will admit, I cried during that conversation. I think it was the part of me that is so scared to be vulnerable and trusting, the one who has been hurt so many times. She was crying because she couldn’t believe that it happened again. She was crying because now she was in the position of having to trust once again. And I did it. My teeth look beautiful already, and I’m glad I did it. I’ll have these for two years. At the end of this treatment the grand total of years I’ve spent in braces will be 5. Being raised the way I was, I’d see other kids in braces, brand name clothing, nice backpacks and lunch boxes. I never really felt like I needed those things, but I was always extremely aware of the difference between our families as far as pay grade and status. Other kids got braces. I did not. I went a long time being so utterly sad about my teeth. Older people in Florida would make comments. I was always very aware of how crooked and ugly they were. But ultimately I brushed it aside because teeth are teeth, nothing more. We chew with them and use them to speak. But once I was in the position to do it, I addressed it. I think it was some sort of method of taking my power back. My parents didn’t prioritize those things, but my father bought thousands in music gear. He took out a loan on our paid off house to buy more music gear. That is the reason it was foreclosed on when he got sick. Because of the impulsive spending. I didn’t learn this until my mid twenties. And it made me angry. I still struggle with how conflicted it makes me feel. How could he look at my smile everyday and buy this extravagant music gear without thinking, hey, I could probably skip this guitar and change her life by taking care of those teeth. When I got braces the first time, it felt like I was doing for myself what nobody else ever wanted to do. Independence. Taking care of me. It felt powerful. It still does. I could cry All day about things that weren’t fair in my early life and I’d be wasting my time. What’s done is done, and my father is dead. I love him so and I cherish his memory, but I feel resentment as well and that is okay to express sometimes too. All that to say that I’m a braceface again, my old ortho fucked me over, and I found a new one that is superb. I’m happy with that. I’m going to ignore the reason why I’m having to do this because dwelling on it further than writing this post does me no good. In addition to that, I’ve been driving a lot in Washington. Getting behind the wheel for the first time since 2016 was very hard. The person who taught me to drive was my father, two months before he died. It’s almost like a traumatic little emotional bandaid that I had to rip off. Driving came back to me immediately, like riding a bike. I’m looking at cars and hope to secure one in the next two weeks. I’m looking into degree programs that I can utilize online so I can balance it with my job. I don’t want to be someone’s bitch forever. I tire of being the one keeping the circus going, yet only getting noticed or spoken to when something goes awry or I have a human moment. I want to find my talent, and I want to run with it. I’m working on my first poetry book, which I will try to get published when I feel more secure in my writing and with the finished product. Writing poems, revising poems, over analyzing poems… I love it. It’s my life’s breath. If I can make that a residual form of income, I’d be happy as a clam. I pour so much of my heart, my past, and my own shortcomings into these poems. I hope they reach someone the way writing them out reached me. There’s probably more that I’m forgetting, but I’ll end this for now in favor of not being one of those people who says too much. (I always say too much. I have the gift of the gab. Thanks, dad.) I hope you’re all doing well, and I apologize for my absence. There has been quite a lot going on over here. Have a great week.