After about 45 weeks of almost flawless fitment, my Invisalign trays started to get out of whack at the end of last month, specifically the top sets. Usually they go in with a nice satisfying click as they fit around the little nubs glued to your teeth (the trays need something to grab onto), but mine weren’t clicking. The tray was hanging down more and more to the point where I couldn’t wear them during the day because they gave me a horrible slobbering lisp. I checked in with the orthodontist, they rescanned my upper and lower palate, and I picked up two new boxes of trays the other day. When I put the top set in I got the click and they fit perfectly. I put the newest set in Tuesday night and I can tell they’re now working on moving my premolars outward to continue making room for the front teeth—which are almost straight—because the premolars are sore as shit. I’ve got about 30 weeks left in the series, which will put me somewhere around the end of the year for a straighter smile.
As my lovely wife wrote yesterday, it looks like things are beginning to bloom for us here in Maryland. The tulip tree is about two or three days away from exploding, the crocuses are blooming in neat lines along our flowerbeds, and the daffodils sprinkled around the house are waking slowly.
Day two with the new mattress is going well; I’m not sure about Jen but my back has felt better, my neck doesn’t hurt anymore, and I slept with three cats stapling me to the bed. Putting the futon frame underneath didn’t make any noticable difference to me, but it might have helped Jen somewhat.
I talked to the project manager for the drainage project this morning, and among other things, he told me this process has taken the better part of twenty years to get going, and that it’s too late to tack an extra 40 feet of piping onto the end of the line. So that means we’re most likely going to suffer more drainage issues in the future; my guess is that the folks out behind us are going to have a swamp for a backyard (as their back lawn comprises the majority of the low land.) Swell.
Meanwhile, Jen got an unsolicited email this morning from some woman who suggests that a personal relationship with Christ will make her life better. While most of the Jesus-thumping letters I’ve seen have been of the ranting, poorly written variety, this one is at least spellchecked. I’m going to weigh in over here on unsolicited religious emails, especially the ones that are six paragraphs long and signed by “Sister Mitzi”:
I don’t really care
I didn’t ask you to proselytize
I’m happy for you
and you’re tight with God
I don’t need you
to get all Fallwell on me today
You’re born again
what’s your fucking deal
if I want to talk to Christ
I’ll do it myself, alright?
Jesus is just alright with me, and I’m pretty sure he’s OK with my wife too. I’m happy that the carpenter made a difference in your life, but don’t try to bulldoze your beliefs on her or anybody else. If she wants to find God, she’ll do it herself—if there’s one person in this world who has a healthier respect for and understanding of religion than my wife, I’ve yet to meet them.
(special thanks to Night Ranger, for allowing me to bastardize a truly horrendous song.)
Addendum: I suppose I should clarify a little here. I’m not anti-God, or anti-religion. Actually, I’m the opposite: I respect the right of any citizen of this country to practice whatever religion they choose, just like I don’t care if somebody wants to marry a water buffalo—their beliefs are their own. What I resent is the overbearing way some folks push their God on other people. What I mistrust are the motives of large groups of people who believe their way is the only way. On the other side of the coin, we have a good friend who recently asked us to come visit his church and hear him play one Sunday. There was no subtext, no ulterior motive, and no proselytizing. The sermon was down-to-earth, the people were friendly, and the door was left open.
This, in my mind, is the correct (and polite) way to approach someone else’s faith. Especially in these times, when “faith” is such a loaded word. Thanks for giving me some hope, Dave.
Yet another phenomenon we have Mel Gibson to thank for.