Anywhere you are, no matter what you’re doing, could be classified as life in the desert.  I’m really in the desert.  No, there are no sandy sloping dunes running off in different directions, but there are lots of mesquites, creosote bushes, cacti, and a variety of other things that always seem to pierce your skin or stick in your sock if you aren’t careful. I’ve given up feeling like I should mingle with man/womankind and in that sense my social life is a desert but I’m OK with that. 

I somehow have to go back to the dentist, I could claim that as social life due to fingers in my mouth and they talk to me but I can’t talk back.  It’s kind of like duct tape with your mouth open.

Yes, back to the dentist.  I have an acrylic night time retainer but unfortunately I’m allergic to it – just like the temporary crowns a few years ago – my top lip is puffy when I get up in the AM and my lip is irritated.  Back to have a new mold made early this week and then hopefully I will pick up the new torture chamber night time retainer on Thursday.

Seriously, if someone had told me 40 years ago that I would invest enough in my teeth over the last 5 years to have bought a house in some parts of the country – maybe two – and end up wearing a night time retainer, I would have died laughing at them.  In fact, I might have just hit them in throat and then started laughing.  When you’re social life is in the desert, you think in terms of hitting rather than trying to finesse your way through a glib conversation of “Go fuck yourself!”

I also wouldn’t have believed them if they said, “Oh…don’t worry, you’ll have cellulite and belly fat when you get older!” That would constitute a kick to the groin followed up with getting drop kicked through a window.

I was a ‘hottie’ years ago.  Now I’ve become Maxine, only without the sharp wit and humor.  I do have dust balls the size of cattle running through my house, and on a wind driven day, I have a herd of them trailing around after me – with a few thousand Scout hairs mixed in.  Who would have ever thought you couldn’t just clean your house and it would stay that way for 6 months?  Why isn’t there some mystery, high level agency developing a cure for dust balls and dirty houses?

Did I forget to mention that I found a wine glass chilled in the freezer about an hour ago?  And I just happened to have some of my favorite wine in the refrigerator.  Yummy!

My new digs have been shy of living room furniture, but living alone has its perks.  I don’t give a shit.  If it doesn’t bother me, my dog isn’t a complainer, so why worry about it?  I haven’t.  But I have been looking, thrift stores, ads ran in the local Yahoo group, other avenues where someone knows someone, and through the grace of God on a ‘thunderbolt-mind-blast’ I stopped by a thrift store yesterday out of the blue, and found a perfect leather couch and love seat…just what I wanted.  Only 6 months or so new, with a price tag that suited me, and it’s in my living room today.

The crazy part of not having furniture is you don’t have to worry about where something goes or doesn’t fit.  But last night found me kicking around the dust balls and moving this and moving that to set up a floor plan for the new/used furniture.  They delivered today at 10 a.m.  I managed to fall asleep with dust balls exploding from my nose at about 1 a.m.  It’s great though.  Love the new addition to my life.

I don’t have a poker voice right now.  I haven’t played poker, live or online.  I did go log into PokerStars today to check out the Big Game qualifiers and it wouldn’t even let me log into the old client.  It came up with a page in a variety of languages that told me I had to download PokerStars.net if I want to play.  PHLAGGG!

Marie has a poker voice though.  She called me last night from Iowa and let me know she won a tournament.  WOOT!

I figure to go to the WSOP, possibly this week when I go in for the new night time retainer mold – or when I go pick it up – and see if my media pass is still available.

Having a dog has put the total end to long trips away from home…yeah, I like my dog more than I like heading out in the heat to look at poker players.  There must be a Maxine cartoon for that one somewhere!