I bought myself a present the other day. An occlusal guard, aka a night guard to keep me from grinding my teeth, which gives me headaches and jaw aches, both of which make me a damn pleasant person to be around. In fact, I'm doing it right now.Hang on, let me go get my guard.Also, you know how annoying it is when someone keeps saying the wrong word? Like when they say PinINterest instead of Pinterest? Or "Do you twitter?" I was that person every time I called the dentist and chatted with them about my "occlusional guard." Rhymes with delusional. Read more >
My default vanilla was established in a subterranean ice cream shop in the former Soviet Union, where my parents took me after I had my ears pierced. I was three years old, and while I don't recall the actual needle stabbing in my ear, the intense sweet vanilla lodged itself as the standard by which all future vanillas will have to measure against.
Maybe in the wake of a traumatic event, your tastebuds become hyper-sensitive and tastes become saturated. Or else maybe your brain just remembers them that way.
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In two weeks, I'm having a milestone birthday - The Big 4-0 – and the apple cart of my inner life has been somewhat jostled. For the last year, I have jokingly referred to my state of ennui about turning 40 as a "midlife assessment"; adjacent to, but not synonymous with the better known midlife crisis.
Indeed, I am not in crisis. But I would be lying if I said this birthday has not confounded me a bit.
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