All posts tagged teeth


Published August 21, 2015 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

My Amanda Friend told me that she believes in the impossible because she is friends with me, thus she has had a front row seat to the madness.

A professor of mine once said that patterns will become emergent once all of the right pieces are assembled. Real Life application for me: When I am with certain people, Amanda Friend, Actor Boy to name two , the truly bizarre happens.

Case in point: This afternoon. Actor Boy and I went for pancakes and coffee. We both have work to do this evening and neither of us is feeling 100% (He has a cold, and I think he shared it with me.)so we needed a sugar and caffeine boost. 

It was mid-afternoon so Ihop was fairly empty. We were seated at one of those tiny tables for two for some reason leaving me to have to wad up my giant purse behind me and Actor Boy to unfold his long limbs and wrap them around the table legs. 

Our server, Megan, approached our table (here approach means stumble over like a baby giraffe) preceded by the slight odor of alcohol.  Actor Boy didn’t notice the smell but he is a genial sort and he has a great smile so he flashed her one of those. She took our drink orders and meandered away. 

I stage whispered, “I think our server is drunk”. By this time Megan had come back with our coffee and mumbled something about the oddly shaped lemon hunks in our water glasses.  I said it was fine and she proceeded to pick a citrus whisker off of the side of one of the glasses and brush it away. 

We placed our orders. Actor Boy always gets the chicken and waffles and she proceeded to list the condiments she could set him up with; gravy, honey mustard, catsup, hot sauce . . . He told her catsup was fine. I was glad he stopped her before this turned into a Bubba shrimp litany.

After she brought our food, she lingered awhile then wandered away. I have no idea where the rest of Ihop’s A-team was, but the one other waitress kept trying to get her attention. At one point both waitresses began trying out a version of the Charleston (pull up the baby giraffe image again.)

That’s when things got weird. I was trying to enjoy the most delicious part of the pancake, the center gooey part where all of the syrup and butter have morphed into delightfulness, when Megan remarked loudly on the whiteness of Actor Boy’s teeth. She actually grabbed his face while she quizzed him  about the origin and reasoning behind the super white teeth. Somewhere in all of this she mentioned that she was back at work after two weeks off because she had been in an accident. Meanwhile, I am kicking Actor Boy under the table. During the kicking she began talking about her boyfriend having dark hair and how everyone on the planet has some Asian DNA. Then she went on to talk about a Documentary about how one third of the people on the planet are related in some way to Genghis Kahn. 

I actually heard about this, and before I could stop myself, I said, “Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of that.”  Well, Actor Boy hadn’t  heard so she proceeded to loudly describe the salient points of Genghis’s wild ride through  the world.  She used some profanity, and gave a quick rundown on all of  the substances  to abuse at that time period and how Genghis forced himself on over 100 women a day (apparently one of the ancient substances was Viagra.)

Well, really, where could the conversation go after you’ve had a mini-lecture on ancient debauchery while you are trying to finish your breakfast food.  She followed us to the cashier, I have to say I was trying to save myself as Actor Boy answered her lingering questions.  One of which was, “Is she your girlfriend?” (We get that a lot.)   

Somehow Actor Boy did not succumb to her charms and we left.

I looked at him and said, “I’m glad you were here to witness that. No one would believe me.”

He answered, “Didn’t you just say you wanted something new to write about? “

It is, but I’m not

Published May 18, 2015 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I have been actively trying NOT to beat myself up about things I can’t control. You wouldn’t think this would be a difficult task for someone is a reasonably sound, mostly functional adult.  (While I am an adult, I’m not going to commit to being a grown-up til the last possible moment. )  However, in addition to my tendency towards parenthetical hyperbole (Newest Hipster Bar) I also have the unerring ability to blame myself for just about everything.   (There is that recurring dream I have where my teeth inexplicably fall out. I have had this dream so many times, I have actually added the solution to this problem to my subconscious. You put the teeth in a glass of milk until you can get to a dentist. Also, the tooth loss dream means you’ve either said or eaten something you shouldn’t have. This should tell you what kind of shape my subconscious is in.)

There has been a lot going on in my world. The school year is ending and with it are coming a lot of changes that I didn’t see coming. I have a lot of stress in my life that is new but and not one bit improved. Into the usual blame spiral, I can now toss in a major family crisis.

Because I come from a large family, there is always something going on. My cousin Cindy said the reason every event in my family is usually accompanied by another event of equal or larger proportion of angst, food and anxiety is because there are so many of us and and there is a finite number of days in a year.  Her husband died and her sister got married within a few weeks of each other. (During that time, I also had a brain thing, so there’s that)

My Amanda Friend and AOG celebrated their wedding today. One of my aunts is in a coma. And my grandmother died today.

All of this has happened within the last two hours.  People are offering me condolences and I have been knee jerk responding “It’s ok.”  I talked to my principal and told him of my plans to come in until I have a specific family task. He told me to not worry about it and be with my family. A few minutes later I picked up my phone to call my friend Steve.

Steve Garrett, my good friend who died five years ago last Thursday.

So it’s ok.

But clearly, I am not.

Choosing my words

Published November 1, 2014 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I have a recurring dream where my teeth fall out. Sometimes it’s just one or two teeth. Sometimes it’s whole sections. I have had this dream so many times that I actually researched how to save the teeth for surgical reattachment. (It’s storing the tooth in cold milk. If the root is mostly intact, it can be reinstalled with minimal fuss.)  Now this dream features me searching for a glass of cold milk.

I have heard that this dream means that I regret something I said or something I ate.

This says a lot about me.

I love words. I love reading and writing and I love wrapping myself in the comfort of a well-turned phrase.

My life being what it is these days, in which I am barely managing to feed myself. (In fact, if it wasn’t for my Amanda Friend and AOG, I would be eating cereal while sitting on the floor in my underwear, or eating tuna out of the can while leaning over the sink.)  I don’t have the time to write anything more thought provoking than a carefully worded email whilst choking on my own rage at the condition someone left the auditorium. (That was very challenging.)

I have had several moments of reflection in regards to my career/calling/ caterwauling. (The rhyme and alliteration is intentional)  I continue to be both challenged and entertained by my students. (Sometimes at the same time.)

A lot of my struggle and strife comes from word choice. Twice in the last three weeks I have had girls come to me in tears because a boy said something that made them feel ugly and uncomfortable. I dealt with both situations by telling the girls that a) they were brave for telling someone; b) boys are turkeys and they don’t stop; c) don’t ever let a turkey tell you what you’re worth. and  c) telling the boy(s) that their behavior was bullying and that I will not tolerate it in my classroom.

The whole situation reminds me of a grudge a have carried for  three decades.

When I was 12 years old, a boy made me feel worthless because he said I was fat and ugly.

He is now the size of a small dinosaur and his children all have their mother’s unfortunately pug nose.

Sometimes I wish more people worried about words as much as I do.