Thoughts and random “tails”…

On Under Bites...

• Today at 1 PM, I am going to my orthodontist for a splint fitting. Nothing really exciting about that. I’ve been wearing a splint every night since I was twelve or thirteen years old. My lower jaw continued to grow after my upper jaw stopped, so I have a slight under bite. I say “slight” because it isn’t like my lower jaw sticks way out past where my upper jaw stops. They are actually flush with one another – resulting in my inability to adequately close my mouth (my front teeth hit). And, just incase you were wondering, I’ve heard ALL the jokes about me not being able to close my mouth. Oh, ha-ha-ha. You are SO funny…
  
  Anyway, I have to wear the splint when I sleep because – when unconscious – I desperately try to shove my mouth closed. Of course, this doesn’t work since I…well, can’t. And since I don’t want to accidentally break or wear down my teeth in the process, I religiously wear my splint every night.
  
  I was fitted for my first splint back in the early 90s. That splint lasted over 10 years, but finally broke right around the same time I started working for the museum.
  
  So, I spent $700 and bought a new one. This one lasted about 2.5 years.
  
  My third splint lasted eighteen months.
  
  And this year? Yeah, I’m being fitted today for my third splint in less than twelve months.
  
  Either I’m exceptionally stressed or they aren’t making splints like they used to. I’m guessing it is a combination of both.

On Cell Phone Etiquette...

• Yesterday, I had lunch with a friend. After we finished eating, I headed to the restroom. There were four stalls - two of which were already occupied. I walked into the nearest of the two vacant ones, closed the stall door, and…well, proceeded to do my business. About midstream, the lady in the stall next to mine answered her cell phone. Both me and the other woman in the third stall stopped peeing. Because, really? Who wants to be heard peeing on the other end of a stranger’s phone? But the idiot on her cell phone kept talking. And talking. And talking. Finally, I could not wait any longer and I finished my business and (gasp!) flushed the toilet.
  
  There was a pause in the phone conversation in the middle stall followed by:
  
  Bathroom Talker: “Oh, yeah! I’m totally in the bathroom at Blue Mesa! What? Yeah, I’ve been in here the whole time. No. Just peeing. That wasn’t me. It was some other lady that flushed. I know! How RUDE!”
  
  I walked out irritated that I hadn’t flushed sooner.
  
  Who talks on the phone in the bathroom anyway? Especially in a PUBLIC restroom? While peeing? And why was I supposed to follow some sort of secret public-bathroom-phone-talking etiquette?
  
  I swear! Some people!

Won't you play with me?

• Last week when we went to Indiana, we boarded the three dogs at PetSmart. Bert had offered to house and dog sit, but after Alley CHEWED on the new house we decided to go ahead and spring for four days and three nights of doggie boarding, all day play and three exit baths. Expensive? Yes. But oh-so much cheaper than repairing a chewed on house.
  
  When we arrived on Thursday morning with the three “kids”, the PetSmart employee took one look at Alley and asked if we knew whether or not she had Pit Bull in her. We told them him that we weren’t really sure what went into the making of an Alley, but we guessed that somewhere back in her doggie ancestry, a Lab and some sort of Terrier had been involved.
  
  We were then told that – even though we weren’t certain about Alley’s heritage – that the “expert” behind the counter thought he saw some Pit Bull in her.
  
  Trevor: “Um. Okay. Again, we don’t really know. And her vet and I have even joked about all the different types of dogs we see in her.”
  
  PetSmart guy: “Well, if she has Pitt in her, she might not be able to play with the other dogs.”
  
  Trevor: “What? Why? She’s boarded and played here many, many times in the past, and there has never been any kind of incident. She loves to play and is well socialized.”
  
  PetSmart guy: “But she might have Pitt in her.”
  
  Trevor: “And?”
  
  Long story short: Alley was racially (species-ally?) profiled as a Pitt Bull, and nearly segregated from the other dogs at PetSmart – even Gypsy Kitty and Haskell! Luckily, we were able to convince said PetSmart “experts” to give her a chance and allow her to prove her playtime worth. She passed. And just to show what a good doggie she was, when Alley was finally permitted into the main play area, she proceeded to make-out with every single dog there.
  
  That’s our girl.
  
  I know that Pitt Bulls have a reputation as being bullies, but I really feel that every one deserves a chance at a normal doggie existence before being so rudely discriminated against. Plus, generally speaking, it is people that make a dog mean. They aren’t hardwired to be so. That is a learned behavior. Maybe PetSmart should start screening the owners.