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So last week I was counting down the days until I was leaving for my vacation to NYC. I so needed to get away…

On Wednesday I’m running around doing some last minute errands and realize I need to get some gifts for my aunt and uncle who were boarding me up for the weekend. Being that they are avid Harley-Davidson fans, and had once mentioned how they’d like some HD gear with Texas locations on it, I decide that is the place to go. I have to be honest and say I felt like a total poser in there. It was obvious that I stuck out like a sore thumb in there; however, a nice sales girl offered to help me on my adventure to find appropriate (and inexpensive) gifts. After finally settling on a T-shirt and a beanie, I walk out the door content with my success. As I’m walking to my car I notice the crowd of bikers outside the store had grown sizeably, and now even includes a biker chick – who was giving me some mean eyes. “Don’t worry chick – I’m so not here to snag your man, I just wanted some souvenirs.” (And no, I didn’t say that out loud. What are you crazy?)

So I get in my car and push my bangs aside out of my eyes and toss the bag to the floor. God, I’m so tired. I put the clutch in first and slowly inch forward. At this point my brain must have been running on fumes because I wasn’t picking up on the fact that I was facing some minor resistance. So I pushed the gas harder until all at once, before I realized what was happening, I found my self half way over a concrete parking space divider. Shiiiiiiiiiit. This was no little bump either, we’re talking a big, rectangular spacer. Right. So I’m teetering on the block thinking, “Hmmm..how in the hell do I get out of this?”

Ok, time to kick it in high gear. I open the car door and turn my head towards the biker dudes and open my doe-eyes real big and say, “Ummm…what should I do?” They all remain dumbfounded with their mouths agape. Do I hear cricket’s chirping? So I ask again, “Uh, help me…what should I do? Should I go forward or go backwards? I don’t know what to do!”

Eventually one of them comes to and starts leading the crowd over. “Is it a front wheel drive?” one of the burly men asks me.

“I don’t know. It’s a standard!” I yell. Apparently that was enough information for one man and then he said, “Ok, well put it in reverse and s-l-o-w-l-y back it up. We’re gonna pick up the front of your car and try to get you back over the hump.” Ooohhhh…I like the sound of that! So I do as told and eventually, after many scrapes and bangs later, I am back on the right side of the hump. I then ask, “So is that it? Is it ok?”

“Well, nothin’s leakin, so you should be ok.”

Yeah, thanks. That’s real assuring I think, momentarily being distracted by visions of me blowing up on the way home. “Thank you soooooooooo much,” I say as I shut the door and drive off.

God I need a vacation.

So thanks to all of you who gave your 2 cents worth of shameless plugs for your dentists; however, the problem is not that I don’t like my dentist, it’s that I hate that he knows more than I do about my teeth!  Anyhow, I have the results from my visit on Tuesday, and I have to say only one of 2 things can be true:

1. The reverse-psychology of the blog-o-sphere must have kicked in for me, or

2. God LOVES for me to recognize my feebleness and I have to admit, I don’t often give Him credit for doing the things I think to be impossible.

Case in point: I left the dentist office today with a, “You’re all done.”

I said, “As in, no problems, all’s ok, we’ll-see-you-in-6-months-for-your-normal-check-up-all-done?”

“Yep, it looks good.”

Wow. I was speechless. And immediately humbled (and overjoyed at the same time), which is a lot to say for me, because you all know – I am NEVER speechless!

So I’m going to the dentist tomorrow. Yes, it is a long overdue appointment, partly because I haven’t had dental insurance the last 8 months, and partly because the last time I had dental work done I was drugged to the point of stumbling and reduced to communicating through crass sign language (yes, Katie, I do recall grumbling something and pointing at my crotch.) Good thing Katie is experienced in drug-induced sign language…she appropriately lead me to the bathroom.

So going to the dentist always annoys me to no end. Mostly because I’m type A and I like to have a plan or plan ahead, yet I never accomplish that when I go to the dentist. They always have some surprise for me, such as, “OH! Looks like you have a cavity!” Or, “Oops,it’s time for X-rays again!” Seriously? Is the dentist bad at lying, or just really non-observant?

There is no part of me that believes he sincerely missed the fact that I was developing a cavity the last time he was half way down my throat swimming in drool. But what difference would I know? I can’t see through my teeth to know if he’s lying or telling the truth! I think that is what makes dentists the most feared medical professionals…the fact that nobody really has the knowledge or capability to challenge their diagnoses.

See, if I went to a medical doctor and he told me I had such and such problem, I could ask a friend for a second opinion, and they would (confidently) say, “Nah, you’ll be fine. Just use this cream and drink lots of whatever.” Nobody ever dares go against the dentist. It’s like, “Crap, the dentist said I had another cavity!” “Bummer. Cavities suck.” No one is going look in my mouth and say, “Nah, it’s not a cavity – it’s just some discoloration from all that sweet tea you drink.”

So I can’t help but always feel so vulnerable at the Dentist’s office. And I can’t help but always be pissed because I can’t remember a SINGLE time when I left there and they said, “Wow, all is great! See ya in 6 months!” Maybe, just maybe tomorrow will be the day that proves me wrong…