I realize I’m being a wee bit repetitive, but here’s the thing, guys: READ.

We went to Whole Foods on Saturday, because I apparently get amnesia whenever we run out of bell peppers, and I forget the hellish, swarming pit of angry humans that Whole Foods becomes on weekends. Or, really, always.

At any rate, we were just getting a few things, so I was lulled into a false sense of okayness.

We parked, which is an adventure in itself, because, I guess, if you’re fancy enough to stop at Whole Foods, you’re too damn fancy to corral your grocery cart. Yeah. That’s a whole post in itself.

We made it into the store. That’s also an adventure, because all of the drivers in the parking lot are blind and ninety-three, so their reflexes are kaput. Brakes? Naw. The pedestrians are way faster than the cars. Or, maybe not. Oops.

So we walk in, and right at the entrance, there’s a humongous, beautiful display of oranges. Those pretty ones with the pinkish insides. And many ginormous signs are posted. They all indicate that these lovely piles of citrus fruit are ORANGES. Seriously, there were fifteen signs.

In front of one of these massive signs was a tray of cut-up ORANGES. With yet another sign on display. Guess what was on the sign...go ahead...I’ll wait...

...yep. ORANGES - Free Samples.

That was the sign. Verbatim. Right by the damn tongs.

And, I kid you not, I was right behind a lady (waiting to buy some oranges, not to take a sample, because there was no way I was touching those disease-ridden tongs), when I heard her utter what I now feel may be the stupidest sentence ever uttered by a human being:

(And I have said some pretty stupid things myself, so you know it had to be pretty bad.)

“Baby, want some grapefruit?”

Yeah.

Then, again, “Look, baby! Look at the grapefruitses (that happened)! Mmmmmmmmm!”

Baby never did eat the grapefruitses.

And I died a little bit.

On the upside, nothing that happened after that even registered, so I must’ve been in shock.

Yeah.

Oh, happy Monday, by the way.

It’s Valentine’s Day. I like it, but I feel like a ton of people feel the same way about Valentine’s Day as I do about Mother’s Day. So I try to keep it low key. Also, this is our first one without my Mom, and she kind of always made a big deal about it, and I hate that she’s not here anymore.

There, got that out. I’m good now.

Anyway, I had an interesting happening yesterday. I’ve been working with a temporary student, just taking lessons to prepare for a concert, and yesterday was her last lesson. On her way out, she told me I was very encouraging, which surprised her, because when she first saw me she thought I looked scary.

Me. Scary.

At any rate, I didn’t laugh at her, but the next student in line was standing there, and then the lady says to her, “Don’t you think she looks scary?”

My student also didn’t laugh at her. I was so proud.

Then, that lady left and my student and I went in and started her lesson, but we had to take a break because we were both giggling because, yeah, me. Scary.

Still making me giggle a little.

Apparently I look like a legit teacher who’s going to yell and smack knuckles with a ruler. For some reason, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside because, really, I am the least scary person on the planet. I rarely get angry, and when I do, all that happens is that I use the f-word a lot, and then usually start crying.

But, hey, I look scary to one person. It’s a start. Someday, I will look scary to everyone and then no one will mess with me, and maybe I will be the Jessica Fletcher/Dorothy Zbornak combo that I’ve always dreamed of being. That is my life goal, after all.

I realize that this post is a little random, but it’s early and it was making me giggle again so I thought I should share.

Also, Happy Valentine’s Day. In case you’re feeling unloved today, I love you. I really do. Now bring me cake.

Okay, got my tooth pulled a couple of days ago, and so far it hasn’t been nearly as painful as I thought it would be. Actually, the pain from the cracked root and infection were worse. So, all in all, expensive and gross, but pain only like a level three out of ten. Not horrible.

Bonus? Oh, yeah, I now have A TOOTH IN A JAR.

Yep, I asked if I could keep my tooth because I wanted to check it out. It’s AMAZING. So cool. I can’t believe how fancy our insides are. It just blows my mind. The roots are as big as the tooth, if not bigger, and all of that fits neatly inside of a jaw bone. Incredible.

Not enough adjectives in the world.

So, I’m supposed to rest, but that’s difficult for me to do, so we went to Costco yesterday and today I teach and I made some homemade lotion/cream stuff out of coconut oil, vitamin e, lavender and tea tree oil. And I’m going to finish my husband’s Christmas scarf today and then continue work on another project that I’d started for Christmas but couldn’t finish due to lack of acceptable yarn. I kind of failed this year at getting Christmas stuff done on time.

Oh, well. It’s still cold so he’ll get use out of it.

And that’s life in my neck of the woods. Nothing hilarious has happened in ages, but I’m working on it. Plus, the tooth in a jar makes me happy, so that’s good.

I may have issues.

Nothing very interesting has happened lately. Oh, except the fact that I’m LOSING A TOOTH.

I’m serious. They’re pulling it on Friday. 

I guess the root is cracked, or, at least, that’s the suspicion, and now my body has decided to not let it be in my mouth anymore. So I get to start the long, bloody, gross, expensive path of getting an implant.

Yuck.

The idea of having an implant grosses me out. Mostly because of the cadaver bone they use for the graft. What if I can taste it? That would be nasty. What if it’s haunted? Will I get ghosts in my mouth? What if they used a bone from somebody who disturbed an ancient Mayan burial ground and then all of a sudden I get weird noises coming from where the tooth was?

Seriously, though. Ew.

Also, I paid a buttload of money in 2016 to have surgery to save the tooth, which obviously didn’t work. So now I get to pay even more to get the tooth pulled and then get ground-up dead guy bones in my jaw, then get a tiny piece of titanium (which was obviously milled from diamonds, stardust, and angel tears) implanted into said dead guy bones, and then wait some more and then get a shiny fake tooth on top. Which is probably made from unicorn horns. Because, seriously, it costs as much as a unicorn would cost. Maybe even more.

And the unicorn would be more magical. This is just going to chew stuff and keep me from looking like a hobo.

So. That’s been my week. Yep.