Dr. Balderdash, would you tell my sister to get out of here. I hate her guts.
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I had to go to the dentist today to get my permanent retainer bonded back into position. I didn't admit to any wrong doing. I just eluded to the fact that it is possible I may have snarfed down a pound or two of Bit-O-Honeys during the long and treacherous Halloween Candy Season. This was the first time I have had a problem with the retainer in the 13 years I've been trying to speak without lisping around it.
Nine out of 10 dentists $ecretly love it when you eat Bit-O-Honey$
I decided, around 1995, that I was tired of the way my two front teeth overlapped slightly. I was not getting the same response from fashion mags and the movie industry as Ali McGraw, so I made an appointment with an opthomologist and got my eyes checked to make sure I was
The look worked for me, honey , but then you ain't me now are you?
correct in my assumption about my teeth. I then, at the tender age of 50 something, made an appointment with the orthodontist. His office was cool - if you were 13. The 8 dentist chairs were set in a circle around the central work station and the Dr. could go from one patient to another with chairs filling and emptying behind him. There were built in sofas around the perimeter and a vast array of video games to play while we waited.
While waiting my turn on the merry-go-round I'd look in vain for a copy of Vogue or Reader's Digest. Then I'd give up and play Space Worms Rule The Universe instead, never making it past the first level. The nurse eventually would peer over her glasses and call my name. I'd get to go sit in one of the chairs surrounded by glaring 13 year olds. Whenever Nurse Brunhilda wasn't looking I'd hiss "Whatcha staring at you little misanthrope? I got teeth too ya know." The little Alfred E. Newman look alike would suddenly pretend there was something important under his fingernail. Later he would scurry out, pulling on his mother's arm and whispering, "Ma, what's a miz...ah...mi....miz-ant-ropee?"
It didn't take long to get my teeth back in order. I followed some of the directions most of the time and I graduated from the orthopteran - I mean Orthodontist- at about the same time I graduated from college. What?! Okay, some of us are a bit late on the upswing, but I eventually get things done. About the time I paid my last installment I noticed a new little sign above the nurse's desk that said:
misanthrope - n. One who hates or mistrusts his fellow men.
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41 comments:
This is hilarious! And so sweetly touching. Aw, Connie, soon you'll be going for your drivers license and then on your first date. After that, the sky's the limit....your own apartment! Your first credit card! Oh wait...you already have a credit card. The fact that the name on it says "Debby" is just by the by!
...And my first corsage, and stay out until midnight...sky's the limit, isn't it La Vinia! How did you know about the "Debby" credit card? I've only shown you the Bibi one and the Nanny one! You been thumbing though my little pink plastic purse again?
It was a dark and stormy night when I first came across the eerie glow emitted by your Malibu Barbie pink plastic purse. It was lying atop a tomb in the cavernous crypt of Monsieur Vania of Transylvania. I was dating him at the time, as were you. We of course did not know about the other. I only suspected! With what feelings of dread mixed with fear, I snatched the purse and crept closer to the flickering light of a nearby lantern. Opening the purse I saw several credit cards---all different names---along with a mother-of-pearl plated revolver, ridiculously small and clearly used only for theatrical effect, rather than to lodge a bullet in its target. Digging deeper I found a lipstick. The shade was “Vermillion Vixen” and I cried aha! That can only mean Museswings! The whole world knew your signature lipstick shade; why shouldn’t I !! But the question remained, how did the purse get in the crypt? Before I could dwell on the answer, a strange, strangled cry startled me. Something was moving in the depths of the crypt. I didn’t stick around to find out what it was. I dumped the contents, but clutched the purse as I ran for my life. Twenty years later, I see nothing’s changed!
Twenty years later, of course nothing's changed. Pink plastic purses are not biodegradeable, and by the end of this decade, we shall be drowning in Barbie debris. (That perfect little plastic twit has EVERYTHING, don't cha know?)
Anyway, Lavinia, the answer is just as plain as the nose on your devious little face. You had suspicions that Monsieur Vania was seeing another. The purse bore out your suspicions. The Vermillion Vixen lipstick provided evidence of who she was. The strangled cry, the strange strangled cry...Oh! Lavinia...shocking as it is, this is proof (PROOF! I tell you!) that yours was not the only neck Monsieur Vania had bitten.
Debby, your conclusions are irrefutable. And by the way, I like your earrings. Maybe a litle too much. Perhaps you'd better put them away...
L. I remember that night well! The thunder the lightening the wind howling - or was that Monsieur Vania who was howling...I forget which. But the motion sensors went off and when I was free of his clutches I dashed to the crypt in my white bias cut satin night gown and matching robe and those cute little matching slippers with the white mink poofs at the toes just in time to see the flash of a hooded red velvet cloak disappear down the small lane towards a horseless carriage ( if you'd cough up the bucks for a horse you could get around faster Lorinda)I found prints from shoes with embossed soles that said "Glamor Gal" and had my suspiciouns about just who still had the kahoonas to wear that brand. I was distraught over the loss of the purse - it had been discontinued by Mattel, you know, but I managed to find more at the Dollar Store. (why do they call it a dollar store if some of the stuff is $3.00?) I snatched up my assorted credit cards and the safe deposit keys I lifted from Blick, Nan, Janeen and Trish and my prized lipstick - a gift from Stevie who knows a vixen when she sees one. Mssr. Vania seemed to be getting a bit long in the tooth which freaked me out, so I grabbed my 42 trunks and hitched a ride into the creepy little village looking for that red velvet cloak person with the cheap plastic shoes. It was you????
Debbie, Debbie, Debbie - I entrusted you with that secret and here it is, out there for everyone - even Lodinia to see. My weekly extortion payment is just 2 days late! Two days late I tell ya! You know how the economy is? My 401 K is now just a 201 K! I'll need a reciept for taxes, by the way, and the credit card? I swear it just fell into my purse when you left it on Mssr. Vania's night stand.
Anon - I get dibs on those earrings first. You can wear them next Tuesday. For a couple of hours.
The truth is, there was no room on Count Vania's night stand for Debby's credit card, because of all the Bit-o-honey bars and empty wrappers strewn all over it. That and the ruby wax candles which dripped all over the place, and formed a sort of shrine to the immortal oil painting propped up on the night stand. The portrait of musey which had formerly hung in the Louvre, but had mysteriously "disappeared" (some would say stoled) from the museum during that suspicious "closed for cleaning" period which was never fully explained by the curator. but I digress. The point being, that the nightstand was crowded with all manner of objects and Debby's card fell off. Who picked it up is still being debated in scholarly circles. The names of all the usual suspects ---Colonel Mustard, Professer Plum, Miss Scarlet---are being bandied about, but all eyes are on the portrait who's eyes strangely follow you as you move about the bedchamber. White negligee shining in the moonlight. But anyway, the point is....hey wait a minute, I've totally forgotten my point! Signed, LaDonna
Of course it was Lavinia. I can picture her perfectly, pulling her horseless carriage through the streets in her Glamor Gal shoes, red cape flying.
That fricken portrait gives me the heebie jeebies.(The whole closed-for-cleaning thing was a ruse of the curator's. The picture gave him the creeps as well. He gave it to Monsieur Vania who creeped him out as well.) I don't like eyes following me about. Since the candles were right there, I opened the leaded glass window, eased the painting across the stone casement, set it on fire with one of the red votive candles, held on until the flames had devoured most of the portrait, and then dropped it. Pretty sure it went in the moat. I heard the tiny screams of fish with heebie-jeebies flinging themselves on dry land. Then I went back, retrieved my credit card (dear heavens this has become a repeating theme...) and left the room. left the castle. left this chaos.
So why, 20 years later, is it still trailing me?
And, Belladonna, WHO ARE YOU, (who who who who) who the heck are you? I really want to know.
La Lint, The point? The point you ask? The point is, Debby's credit card was on Vania's (he prefers to be called colak zaharsi which is sweet cakes for those who do not speak fluent Romanian) nightstand? What exactly was Debby doing in his private rooms? In Romania, for that matter, in Europe to be exact?. Further more my purse was on the floor. The credit card caught a draft and floated across the room, around the corner and into my Malibu Barbie purse. You know I had my purse declared an independant democratic nation, so anything in my purse is on my land and therefore mine.
Debby - You burned my Little Cindy Lisa portrait and fed it to the fish! I am prostate with grief. Prostrate? It must be restored at all costs. All of the costs being yours.
Use one of those credit cards with my name on it that you have by the score. The little girl was a cutiembut the eyes. I simply couldn't stand it...they kept following me...where ever I went. Kind of like you and Lavinia.
Going to print that image and hang it in the bathroom. Unfortunately your post reminded me I still have to make an appointment with the dental surgeon.......
Marianne - the dental surgeon -Ugh! If you need someone to hold your hand, just let us know!
Debby, I cannot fault you for burning that spooky portrait, however, your mistake was in assuming that it was the original. It was, in fact, a copy. One of hundreds of copies. You see, (deep breath, I'm about to reveal all here)....not one of you has stopped to ask, what on earth was Lavinia doing in the crypt in the first place? The truth of the matter was, that I was a private detective hired by the Louvre to recover the painting, which had been stolen as a cheap publicity stunt, by none other than Count Vania and Muse-swings, with whom he was in cahoots. The reason behind the publicity? Well, to promote their new business venture, "Cindi-Lisa-Portaits-R-Us".
They dreamed it up after seeing the huge success of the original portrait. Strike while the iron's hot and all that jazz, you know, the t-shirts, the mugs, and selling so-called 'originals' to gullible art collectors.
Which answers everybody's question except one: What was Debby doing in the Count's bedchamber? Well I happen to know the answer to that too. As newly-appointed Head of VISA's "Anti-Fraud" squad, Debby was 'on the job' so to speak, following the trail of theft, mayhem, discarded peignoir sets by Cindi-Lisa and her nefarious sidekick, the aforementioned Count. In conclusion, I'd like to point out that once again, I was exactly what I've always been in all of our capers: An Innocent Bystander. This has been proven in the International Court, Judge Judy-Executioner presiding!
I have often wondered what happened to that credit card. I hope you had a great time with it. I wore braces as an adult and that was a hoot. Ali MacGraw was so tall and skinny. I was once upon a time. I'm still tall, but now I'm a big mama. Remember my mantra,"We all get our turn!" I do believe Miss LadySlipper and Miss M Swings an find fun in anything. It's such a gift. Don't ever go away from our dear bloggyland. You make me smile. luv you guys
Hey, I have that same little book! Cute post!! :^)
I vant my Bit-o-Honeys back.
I luuuuuuuuuuuuuuv Bit-O-Honey!!
Livvy-o - Innocent Bystander pppffft- bwa hahahah!
The count may not have his Bit-O-Honeys back. They are all ex-Bit-o's now. Ever so sorry.
Willow - you must have some wonderful book collection! I don't own that one - the picture is compiments of Flickr - but if I did, I would read it to myself every time I have to go to the dentist.
Thanks Trish - you are so generous! I only used your card at one store, not to worry. Tiffany's. Got a few baubles for our next foray into the unknown. I'll send it back so you can use the last $10 of the credit limit for your christmas shopping.
Janeen - another Bit-O-Honey fan! I think they taste about the same, but the flavoring is suspiciously artificial. Doesn't stop me from derailing my retainer with them though.
Lavinia - I'm thinking of creating a Little Cindy Lisa Award. I'll present it to you with great fanfare so you will have to put it up on your blog. Little Cindy Lisa will be staring at you from every possible angle all day long....yep, I'll get right on that. I think Debby should have one too.
GGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!
Just came from the dentist yesterday! New crown and only $600.00 to pay!
Your posts are hysterical and a great way to start the day.
And just to be clear, the reason that I was in Count Vania's rooms all those years ago is the same reason that I find myself predicaments these days. Exactly the same. I'm always trying to retrieve a credit card from one or the other of these two high living women. Saving one's credit rating is serious business, people. Muse and Labounsay should be avoided like the plague. Nothing but T R O U B L E.
I learned a new word today, I had flashbacks to the time I did have a bit o honey and it caused my temporary crown to come out and I laughed at all the commentary above.
I remember that book Willow and I had! When my oldest had braces a few years ago, there was always at least one adult there for an appointment....and there were actually a few magazines for them! ha-ha!
Debby - we try to maintain ourselves, however our own credit cards are always maxed out. All 42 of them. I just feel a bit lightfingered when I see them lying around say..like... on a count's nightstand. Especially when the magnetic strip is in mint condition. Unlike mine that can barely cough up the info for the computer. One must keep oneself up, now mustn't one. Thanks for doing your part to help out the economy!
Thanks, Mim. Say - about that unfortunate $600.00 - I still have one of Trish's credit cards...
Thank you Shelly - you keep encouraging and I keep on writing.
Betsy, I'm jealous - magazines? The little misantropes probably stuffed them under the sofas at my dentist's office.
I have a primal fear of going to dentist...but I go every year, hoping to put off the day when I'll have to have something serious done...ow.
That's primal fear of going to THE dentist! Even writing about it freaks me out...
Good for you, Bibi! Facing the lion as it were. I never minded going to the dentist, but I couldn't relax while getting work done. I finally worked out a form of self hypnosis. I may be sitting in the dentist chair, but my mind is at the beach -warm sunshine, sand, seashells sparkling water. I've even fallen asleep a few times!
That's the Dom Perignon
Debby, due to the economic crunch, our banker, Hans Johannson, has put us, sadly, on a champagne downturn as it were. We are only allowed to drink Dom Perignon on days ending in 'y'. All other days, we must make do with Lanson or Moet & Chandon.
Museswings: Is that why your orthodontist has a sign on his door that says "You must be 19 and over to drink in this establishment"? Further, the orthodontist invoice now has a clause at the bottom: "Champagne Flutes are *not* included in the fees and must be paid for separately?"
Oh, man - you are brilliant.
Just brilliant.
I love coming here...
:^) Anna
Anna - thank you so much!
Debbi and Louvinia - okay, okay, it's the Dom at the dentist, but no flutes- none, ever- I have to drink it out of those little paper cups. It doesn't breath properly and the bubbles aren't allowed to rise to the recommended level.
That Hans is getting awfully strict, isn't he Louvy? He's also cutting our clothing purchases to just 4 days a week! How is one supposed to manage on that schedule? You know how difficult it can be to accessorise adequately with such a time constraint.
Sorry I've been away from bloggerland most of the day - I had a dinner party to attend - the Duke of Tancy - you know him from that uhm "evening" in Vienna - plus I had to clean the oven and take a whack at the cobwebs. The maid went back to Rome and left me in the lurch.
hahaha! Hilarious post, Muse! Of course, not the situation with your teeth which has been resolved, thankfully. But how you expressed it! Was wondering if anything was up for another special occasion!
Hello Petra Michelle - I'm sure we'll have some new adventure in a few weeks - Looking forward to having you along on whatever and whenever it is! Keep you travel gear handy!
Cindy Lou Who - I just want to say that it strikes me as scandalous how you've lost control of your blog here. It is as if the inmates have taken over the asylum.
I wuz gonna say that - when the comments are more interesting than the blog it's time to ...well, comment, I guess. I know who you are, by the way you left your fingerprints all over the word "Asylum" and they match the ones lifted from 3 of the credit cards and also of course, those that Interpol keeps on the WATCH file.
The inmates have not only taken over the asylum, but they're going to town with redecorating it, adding snazzy new features, and giving the cooks a boot and hiring cordon bleu chefs!
Dear God, whose credit cards do the inmates have?!
If the gig is ever up we'll at least be assured of a good meal and those hot spot water taps for tea time. Anon/Lav certainly not ours. But if there is any $$ left on them we should attempt to retrieve them. What could they possibly be buying from the Hoosgow anyway.
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