Kristabella: Full of Snark Since 1977

Posted By Kristabella on December 24, 2007

I am not in the Christmas spirit this year. I’ve tried. But it hasn’t worked. I don’t want to listen to Christmas music. I don’t want to buy gifts. I have none of that yuletide spirit. December 25th is just another day of the week. And it happens to be a day off from work. Which to me is the best Christmas miracle of all.

Usually, I’m done with shopping pretty early. I usually do it all online so that I have it in time for Christmas Day and all wrapped and ready to go without the hassle of dealing with stupid people in actual stores. I usually pre-set the Christmas music station on my car radio and start listening into those good old holiday ditties at a reasonable amount of time before the holiday. (Read NOT November 1.) (Except Mannheim Steamroller. Because I hate their stupid songs without words.) I usually buy a tree. Or a wreath. Or a pine-scented candle.?Something that says Christmas in my house.

This year? Not so much. I’m not sure what the deal is this year. One reason is my job. Because there was so much up in the air until the end of November and even still, I hesitated to think of the holidays because I was just worried about keeping my job. The second is money. I’m really tight on cash this year. And I’m not sure why. And that’s just depressing all around. Because I really enjoy giving gifts. And I always want to give very thoughtful gifts and gifts that people always remember. This year? I’m all about throwing $20 at my nephews and calling it a day. And Skyler is two, so if I chase her around the table for 10 minutes and spin her by her ankles, she’ll think that it is a good day. Plus she’s already smart enough to realize that any time spent with Auntie Kristin is a gift in itself.

And I know it shouldn’t matter. It isn’t about the gifts. Because Lord knows that no one in my family is struggling and is in need of anything. But I’m their Auntie and I’m supposed to buy them things. And spoil them. And it sucks that I can’t. Even though, seriously, a cardboard box would send them into a tizzy and not set me back much.

That’s probably only part of it. Nothing clicked with me this year when it started to get cooler and the lights were everywhere and the spirit was all around. I don’t know if there is really a reason for it. I must have ingested some sort of Christmas Spirit Repelling juice.

I am excited that Christmas is here. I’m excited to hang out with my family. Well, as much as one can be excited. I’m excited for the tradition of spending Christmas Eve over at my stepmom’s house. Because that’s always a good time. And there is always a lot of laughing. And this year a promise of candy cane martinis.

I’m not the Grinch. Or Scrooge. I am not a hater this Christmas season. I just didn’t fall heard first into all the holiday cheer. And I could care less about giving gifts and all the stresses that go along with this time of year.

I’d rather just sit around and drink mass quantities of alcohol. And eat some tasty food. Which isn’t really all that different from a normal day for me.

Plus by the time Wednesday rolls around, I’m not going to want to go to work. Especially after a whole week off.

Category: A Day in the Life of Me | 9 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on December 20, 2007

So I’m fine. I’m back from the dentist and in less pain. AND! I didn’t even have a root canal.

What????

No, apparently 9 times out of 10, unless there is an obvious abscess or some sort of infection on the root or under the gum line, the cause of this level of pain is usually a fucked up bite.

So it turns out I’ve had a fucked up bite. For about a year now.

See, I went in some time, a long, long time ago, and had a filling re-done on one of my top molars. Because I’m a grinder and most of my fillings don’t last that long. My teeth make it a goal at night to just grind down my other teeth or the fillings. And usually I’m wearing that stupid plastic night guard. But the nights I’m not, say when I’m passed out from exhaustion consuming two bottles of wine in one sitting, my teeth take advantage and just start a-grindin’.

Anyway, I got this filling taken care of many moons ago. And apparently since that time, my bite has been fucked up. Like on one whole side of my mouth,?the teeth were?higher than the others. So to get ALL my teeth to touch, because apparently that’s what I wanted to do, have ALL my teeth touch when I bit down, I was constantly jamming and banging and putting a ton of pressure on the teeth that were too high.

Fast forward months and months later, and you have a very angry root and tooth. That is just TIRED of always being pushed down. Because it HAS NOWHERE TO GO! So it rebels. And it flares up. And it says “I’ll show you, owner of this mouth. I will show you what PAIN really is!”

And so he did. Tooth won. Because Tooth Owner (moi) was definitely in pain. The worst pain of her life. And she falls a lot. And gets lots of bruises. Tooth gained an even further victory when normal pain medicine was not working. So Tooth Owner got some Darvocet from the dentist the day before and finally got some sleep. Only to wake up after four hours still in PAIN. Tooth was happy. “Finally, she’ll get something done about this then,” Tooth said.

So asshat dentist today, who was quite a douche bag, filed down the high teeth and now Tooth Owner’s bite is back to normal. Supposedly. And already the pain is less.

Tooth Owner feels like such an idiot and a fool. Because it wasn’t even anything BIG that was causing her all this pain. It was a high tooth? Seriously? That kept her in the fetal position and lost her many hours of good sleep? What a freaking wuss! Don’t get too close! She might get hurt from the air! Because apparently her big talk of having a high threshold of pain is all poppycock.

It didn’t help that this was a different dentist today. And Tooth Owner clearly came in all nervous. Because of the pain. And the lady DYING. And Douchey Dentist did nothing to calm her nerves. He didn’t even introduce himself. He just went into asking questions, making Tooth Owner feel like a jackass. Like she WANTED to have a root canal. Like that’s what all the cool kids are doing these days. You know, dropping hundreds of dollars and wasting time strapped in a dentist’s chair with their mouths pried open. Yeah. That’s a good time, Douchey. Even though Tooth Owner’s Original Dentist said that if temporary solution didn’t work, she’d need a root canal. But clearly Tooth Owner doesn’t know what she is talking about. So go ahead and make her feel like shit, Douchey Dentist. She’ll remember to bite when your hand is in her mouth.

So now Tooth Owner has cried at the dentist twice. Once during her root canal 20 years ago. And once when some asshat Douchey Dentist made her feel like the world’s biggest fool. Because he obviously didn’t understand the PAIN she was in. And he just thought she was a big, old pussy. (He clearly thought this when he told Tooth Owner to take Darvocet only every SIX hours, not four. And Tooth Owner asked “so I should sit in pain for two hours then?” And Douchey Dentist replied, simply “yes.” And then Tooth Owner tackled his 400-pound body through the window out onto Lincoln Avenue for all to see.)

Tooth Owner is clearly done with this dental office. To think that this pain could have been AVOIDED if the Original Dentist had checked the bite after the filling she did. Or if Original Dentist had thought, back in November when Tooth Owner went in to complain about the pain, that maybe there was another cause to all this. And maybe Original Dentist could have saved the pain and agony on Tooth Owner.

But because she didn’t, didn’t even think of it, or do it right the first time, Tooth Owner will be taking her teeth elsewhere. Which is good. Because she doesn’t like the crazy-mean Eastern European hygienists anyway. Who probably wished they could have given her 40 lashes this afternoon with all her crying because TRY LIVING IN RUSSIA, CRAZY, SPOILED AMERICAN GIRL!

Category: A Dash of the Crazy, A Day in the Life of Me, Rants & Rants | 14 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on December 18, 2007

Right now all I can think about is the PAIN from the tooth. Although, Alfafa had it right in that photo in yesterday’s post, because the ice is helping. Either that or having my neck all crickety and the freezer burn on my face is distracting me from the PAIN.

I am not a wuss when it comes to pain. Seriously. A lesser woman would have gone to the dentist months ago. But lazy + high threshold of pain sometimes can equal asinine levels of stupidity. Because last Thursday when dentist said I NEEDED TO COME IN RIGHT AWAY, I told her to step off because I already have next Thursday off. And I prefer to do these things on days off. Since I want to be model employee. Makes me harder to fire. That I’d go through all this PAIN and DISCOMFORT to continue to plug away at work.

And now, she is laughing at me. And will be laughing at me tomorrow when I go in for?my cleaning that I scheduled six months ago. Because, no, I don’t enjoy going to the dentist that much. And I don’t know why they only schedule root canals on Thursdays. Probably because, as Lela said, they are boring and my dentist must have a smaller attention span than me. And when I go Wednesday I’ll be sure to ask them to stab a drill in my eye socket and turn it on high to distract me from the PAIN in my tooth. And jaw. And now it is kind of making my ear hurt because all that shit is connected.

But I’m totally making them give me something stronger than Advil. Because the Advil? It has stopped working. It takes the pain down to a dulling sensation for about two and a half hours after I take it. And then because I’m addicted to Advil and my body has gotten used to it, at about hour 3 into the four tablets, it STOPS WORKING. And I end up sitting on the couch with an ice pack on my face, Googling the side effects of taking Advil every three hours instead. And then, as we all know when you ask Dr. Google, you are then diagnosed with a slow, painful, stomach-shredding, liver-falling-out death.?Because you’re only supposed to take 6 Advil in a day.

And then I fell off the couch. Half laughing and half hyperventilating from the death sentence. Because?I had six Advil before lunch. And because my stomach lining and I have become such good friends in the last 30 years. I am good to my stomach lining. I give it all sorts of good things like pizza and beer and wine and burritos. And I have never once threatened it with stapling. We have a good relationship.

And this is all I can focus on until I go under the drill on Thursday. And on top of it someone died on Monday after going to the dentist for a root canal. DIED. You think I am JOKING. But no. I am fate’s BITCH because this woman DIED! DIED! DIED! And the headline specifically said she died from a ROOT CANAL. Because I was not clearly freaked out enough. Hope you’re having a good laugh fate. You’ll get yours. But now I know why they say “fate is a bitch.” Because she is.

I’m sure tomorrow’s headline is going to be “Eleventy people die from taking Advil every three hours. Which is NOT HOW IT IS PRESCRIBED.”

Other than that, I have a few other things to share. I’m sure there were more, but the pain has made it hard to remember anything other than the last time I took more Advil that I shouldn’t have taken. ONLY SIX PILLS IN A DAY.

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I had to go to the gas station yesterday to get some windshield wiper fluid. Because I ALWAYS run out on the day after the big snow when all the slush and yuck is splashing up onto your windshield. The clerk checking me out asks “do you live in the neighborhood?” Which I think, “that’s an odd question, but I’d imagine I’d be looking to make conversation if I was trapped in a plexiglass booth all day. Unless you’re the Pope.”

So I tell him that yes, yes indeed, I do live in the neighborhood. I am so awesome for supporting local businesses. Except for gas because you’re just raping people at those prices.

And then he says probably the only thing I DIDN’T figure him saying. He asks “why haven’t you invited me over for Christmas then?”

First thought: Is that the cab driver that I gave my number to when I was drunk and ignored all his calls? Jenquiz or whatever weird-ass name he had?

Second thought: …

I had no second thought. People that I actually KNOW don’t invite themselves over. How do you go from living in the neighborhood to me inviting you over for Christmas?

I ran through the door like Wyle E. Coyote, leaving a KJ cutout in the glass door. Which took quite a few stitches to repair.

Needless to say, I won’t be going to that gas station ever again.

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Why is the post office selling Jesus stamps? I get Christmas is Jesus’ supposed birthday, even though it was really in the summer, but those red suits on fat men in the heat aren’t a good idea. But in the spirit of the PC world we live in, why are you shoving religion down my throat, USPS? And of course that’s the only Christmas stamps you’re going to have left because no one but my Grandma wants Jesus stamps.

I’m sending out holiday cards. Because, shocking! I know people who don’t celebrate Christmas. And I don’t much appreciate the fact that the United States Postal Service is shoving Jesus down my throat. Next year I’ll go with the flag.

I’m sure George Bush and his crazy right-wing asshats are behind this.

And no, I have no idea why Jesus stamps cause such a reaction in me. I’ll blame it on the PAIN. And the Advil overdose.

Category: A Dash of the Crazy, A Day in the Life of Me, Rants & Rants | 11 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on December 17, 2007

I love my blog. I love that I’ve met all these people all over the world, people I consider friends even though I’ve never met most of them, people that I will say inappropriate and stupid things to when I do meet them. But with the very public expression of my thoughts, and learning that the hard way, I have learned that there just are some things that are off limits. Even though writing about them and talking about them would really help and be very therapeutic.

I have two posts I want to write. I want to write about how as I get older I choose my friends based on common interests (read alcohol) and I have a hard time being friends with people from 10 years ago that I have nothing in common with. Because the only reason we’re supposed to be friends is because we were friends years ago?

I want to write about how I hate liars. Especially when it is the last person on Earth that you thought would lie to you. And that person doesn’t even get why it is a big deal.

But instead of writing about those things, I’m going to write about my toothache. Because it is all I can think of. And I haven’t figure out if the pain in my head is all from my tooth, or if someone blindsided me and whacked me in the side of the head with a lead pipe in the conservatory. It had to be Col. Mustard. Or that shady Professor Plum.

So I’m having a root canal on Thursday. Because that’s the only day they can do root canals. Apparently it is dental law. I happen to have this Thursday off. Can you think of any better way to spend your day off? Because I can’t.

I had a root canal when I was younger. About 20 years ago. It was the only time I ever cried at the dentist. They stuck a shot of Novocaine right into the nerve and I felt it in my toes. It rocked me to my soul. And hurt like a son of a bitch. And I have a high threshold of pain.

This current tooth has been bothering me since early November. I was in there right before Thanksgiving to have my dentist put some filling stuff on the outside, thinking the exposed root was causing the problems.

It wasn’t.

My tooth has been getting progressively worse since Thanksgiving. It alternates between stabbing pain and throbbing. In the last week, I’ve been consistently popping four Advil every four hours. And lest I forget to take them, the throbbing and the stabbing reminds me. It even wakes me up. So it is time to get this shit taken care of.

But I am freaked the fuck out. The pain the last time I had this done was out of control. And I don’t really want to go through that again. I’m assuming that things have changed in the last 20 years and that maybe they don’t have to stab you right in the nerve to get you numbed up completely. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to it any more. That and it isn’t cheap to have this shit done to your teeth, even with insurance.

So in the meantime, I’ve lost my appetite because my stomach is full of ibuprofen. And probably small pieces of my stomach lining. Well that’s one way to lose the baby burrito weight.

Can I pass this off as a new fashion trend at work?

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Posted By Kristabella on December 16, 2007

This weekend, we were hit with another snow storm in Chicago. It seems like we’ve actually gotten more snow in the past few weeks in Chicago than we have the last two winters combined.

The last bigger snow storm we had, I was at the hotel for the sales conference. I was sitting on the 32nd floor, staring out at the Wrigley Building and Michigan Avenue. And it was really pretty and calming. I even ordered chili from room service and was thinking it was a perfect winter night. Until I realized that it is possible to fuck up chili and to never order chili from hotel room service ever again. How do you screw up meat, tomatoes?and beans?

And I was inside. And didn’t have to go outside. And I didn’t have to drive in it. So I could actually enjoy the peacefulness and beauty of it all.

Last night, I did not enjoy the snow. In fact, I am going to go out on a limb and say that the time above was probably one of the few times in my life I enjoyed snow. Because I loathe snow.

I spent a lot of my afternoon on Saturday in the car. I had two places to be. And one was in Indiana and the other was in Wisconsin. Well, not really. But pick the suburbs right across the border of those states and that’s where I was. Most of my drive up to Wisconsin was fine. It was a bit wet, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Well, until I got off the expressway and got onto a country road in the middle of nowhere where there were no lights. And dayum it is DARK in the country. Stars, schmars. I like city lights.

So as I’m driving like an 80-year old woman because I can’t see anything because of the DARK and the snow, it starts coming down even heavier. And it’s coming right at me. It was like being stuck in that Windows screensaver with the stars. And then all of a sudden I’m hypnotized by the snow and its white fluffiness reflecting off my headlights, I end up in a damn ditch because when you drive in the snow, you don’t pay attention to each flake. You pay attention to the road, dumbass.

OK, no. I didn’t end up in a ditch. Because when you’re 80 and driving 10 miles an hour, it is really hard to do that. Or at least that’s what the ladies at the senior center tell me. Because they are 80.

As it is coming down harder and there’s more of it everywhere and the plows are nowhere to be found and if you have a fucking plow on the end of your truck, put the damn plow down on the GROUND. Do you need a damn handwritten invitation to plow the snow-filled streets? Because the white SNOW should be your first clue.

So then I just start panicking. Me and snow, we’re not friends. We have battles. Gone are the days of admiring its beauty on the 32nd floor. I will never feel that way about snow again. Snow is dead to me. And as I start panicking, I just don’t know what to do. Except drive slower. And you can drive so slow you just stop moving.

I was heading to Jenn’s house for our girls Christmas party. She lives up by my brother. Once I got to the stoplight where heading right would have been closer to my brother’s and turning left would have been more time on the road with the snow, I flipped out. Full on crazy. Because as I tried to turn out of the intersection, I got stuck. And I just sat there with my tires spinning. Because the Sentra misses California and she decided right then to revolt and NOT MOVE. Finally after promising a car wash to make her feel pretty, she made it through the intersection.

It didn’t get much better. But I finally made it. After many tears. And calls to my mother. And every swear word known to man. You did not want to be close to me then. Sadly, Jenn and her house full of guests did have to hear the venom I can spew and the atrocity that is me stressed and pissed off and for fuck’s sake I can be such a bitch. I calmed down later after a few deep breaths gallons of red wine. But not before making the entire room uncomfortable and wishing that they were sitting outside naked in the snow because that would have been a more pleasant experience.

And I do feel bad for the way I reacted. But snow is the worst. You’re completely helpless. Nissan Sentras and wet, slippery surfaces do not play nice?together.?And pulling over is not an option. You have to get to your destination. Otherwise you’ll end up a frozen corpse when they pull your body from your car after they dig it out from the three feet of powder packed on top of it. So that plus being in the car for like four hours for 150 miles does not a happy Kristabella make. It doesn’t excuse my behavior, but at least I chilled the fuck down after that. Wine has so many useful properties.

But as my socks are still drying out because my boots are much better utilized as paperweights than actually on my feet to keep the wet, cold snow from getting inside my shoe, I’d like to let Bing Crosby know he can take his White Christmas dream and?shove it right up his ass.

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