Average

I've been in Utah for a while and it was awesome. I'd give you (whoever 'you' is/are/whatever-is-grammatically-correct...) a rundown, but that would take a lot of time and I'm too busy doing other stuff like not folding laundry and not putting dishes in the dishwasher (did I ever tell you that I had once made a promise to never leave dishes in the sink once I had a dishwasher? Let's just call it being naive...). Just know that it was all I ever dreamed of and more. Yeah. Magical.

Now, on to more pressing issues like how I can manage to punch a patient in the face without actually getting arrested...

It occurred to me today that the average human being is a complete moron when I was confronted by an average human being at work. This average human being had been in the orthodontic office not two weeks ago when I met with her and helped her through her contract and fee estimate. She had signed everything and was walked through all the details -insurance agreements, possible additional charges, etc.- and seemed to grasp the general idea of it all. Well, apparently not, since she walked back in today and notified me that she would be unable to pay the treatment fee but was still interested in starting treatment. I sat there, confused (being an average human being myself entitles me to such moments of absolute confusion), and trying to grasp the true meaning of what she was saying. She explained to me again, that she would be unable to afford what we had quoted her for treatment, but that she was still planning on coming in for the appointment to get her braces on. I was still stupefied, and so I told her I would have to get back to her. Her reply: "Okay, but try calling after 1pm. I have a massage right before then." She then proceeded to drive away in her brand new car (no kidding; the license was still the dealership one).

Now, I may be average but I have a pretty good idea that massages and new cars cost money. After stewing in my own bewilderment, I concluded that we could not give her braces for free and I will tell her promptly after she is done with her massage. After I punch her in the face, that is. I smart.

House Hunters

After watching at least 5,000 hours of House Hunters, Josh and I have learned several things.

1. In order to properly view a potential house for purchase, one must thoroughly criticise the paint color, light fixtures, flooring, and any other possible thing that the previous owner might have considered 'tasteful' or 'personal.' You must constantly say things like, "This room is hideous! Who lives here? Cavemen?!" You ignore the fact that the previous owner has feelings and might be watching your careful evaluation of their beloved former home, and continue to remark how only the truly insane would consider painting a living room yellow.
   
2. It is only natural when buying a house in the price range of $65,000 to expect a finished basement, granite countertops, all stainless steel appliances, real hardwood flooring, large/luxurious master bedroom, and a manservant who waits on you. Oh, and if the space is less than 2000 square feet, that obviously won't do, since you most definitely need some kind of spare bedroom for when your 30-something year old son or daughter moves back in with you, because they need a little bit of breathing room when it comes to their finances (aka they're in serious debt from all the chain smoking).
3. Josh is gay. We realized this after seeing episode after episode (we have busy evenings, obviously) where the man would continually point out his need for a 'man cave.' What goes on or in a man cave, no one knows, but since Josh blatantly admitted to never needing this mysterious 'man cave,' we ultimately had to face the music that he is gay. He was sort of sad about it at first, but once I told him he no longer had to pretend to care about the NFL, he perked up.
4. In order to appear on House Hunters, you must first prove to be completely ridiculous. You must say things like, "I've just outgrown this space" when living as a single person in a 2 bed 2 bath condo with 3000 square feet. Or you must complain that your current living situation does not allow for you to entertain dinner guests, and upon buying your new home, you prove to all of America that you are now able to entertain you and your one friend. Unfortunately, you come to realize that it wasn't the space that was keeping you from entertaining friends and family... it was just you and your lack-luster personality. But at least you have a large dining area now.
5. Being one of the real estate agents on House Hunters is a lot like being cheerleader. When a client points out the carpet being eaten by weavel, you point out the great view of the backyard. When a client happens to notice there's a hole the size of a cannon ball in the ceiling, you call it a 'laundry shoot.' And when a client is able to remark on the blood splatteres and, "I'm coming back for you" smeared in blood on the wall, you call the former owners 'artists' or 'individualists.' You have to cheer for the good points, and ignore everything else.
   

30 weeks

You might be wondering why I'm posting a picture of me in my big blue scrubs, with my hair in a greasy bun, with a message, 'It's a boy!' tattooed across my baby bulge. I sort of am too. And I'm sort of wondering why I even have this picture, except that I'm not wondering because I really do know why I have this picture. A friend is throwing me a baby shower and decided it would be 'such a cute idea' to have a picture of me and all my big blue glory on the invitation. Only problem (besides it being an absolutely awful idea), is that she got this idea while I was working and needed to get the invitations out, according to her, "two weeks in advance!" Uh huh. So this is where I come in. She comes to my work unannounced, with a camera in hand, and pulls me outside, where she starts taking pictures. I might look pretty docile, but I was livid. And had she not be doing something very kind and generous for me in the first place, I might have screamed obscenities at her and run myself into oncoming traffic. But I didn't do either, and this is what the end result was. Luckily, she couldn't quite figure out how to get the picture on the invitation and it never worked out. Please sense my disappointment.

But in tribute to her efforts, and since everyone is practically salivating for a picture of the mongo woman (it's like one of those train wreck photos; moderately horrifying, but unable to look away), I am letting the world see me for what I am. A big, beautiful, blue-smurf woman. Josh is a lucky guy.