Call a Whaaa…mbulance!

August 12, 2011 ~ JodiLea

Gee, wasn’t that fun? Coach Harbaugh isn’t having any fun looking at the score board. The second half I started fast-forwarding through the re-plays, because the first time was painful enough. (I pause the live game about 1/2 hour so I can zip through the commercials that pop up every 2-3 plays.)

I think I may have pushed the “Mute” button more than the “>>” button during the game tonight. The network had to show each play over again, so the commentators could keep pontificating about they just saw. Don’t they realize we are watching the same game??

And who had the bright idea to schedule the 49ers first game in New Orleans? Some NFL executive with a grudge? The sad thing is that the team played well. As well as you can play during a major ass-kicking, that is. Alex Smith is probably used to it, but poor Colin Kaepernick! What an eye-opening night it was for him I bet.

I mourned the loss of Joe Nedney. You know I have a soft spot for kickers. That and Joe was often the only one to put points on the board. But tonight I fell in love with our new kicker, David Akers. Who happened to be the only 49er to put points on the board. Hmmm… I sense a pattern here. Or maybe a curse.

Is it me or do we only have 2 offensive linemen? There were at least 5 Saints getting past the two of them. And sacking is too delicate of a word to describe what happened to our QB’s.

I just know I’m going to have nightmares tonight.

A Matter of Prospective

July 9, 2011 ~ JodiLea ~ 1 Comment

My 7-year old granddaughter is really excited about losing her teeth. She looks very cute with a gap in her smile. See what I mean?

Grandma is also losing teeth but she is not happy about it. In fact I get on the pity pot about my teeth more often than any other crap I have to deal with. I inherited weak teeth. When I was 7-years old I already had a mouthful of fillings. Yes, in my baby teeth. Not a good start.

The family dentist tried fluoride treatments to help ward off cavities. I don’t know how they do them now, but back in the 60’s you sat in the dentist chair wearing rubber troughs over your teeth, while liquid fluoride circulated through them and soaked into your teeth. The things were uncomfortable and they smelled bad. I must have swallowed gallons of fluoride over time. That can’t be good for you.

The fluoride didn’t change anything except my parent’s budget.

Over time my rotting molars were drilled out and filled with nickel and silver. Then those got old and brittle and started cracking what little real tooth was left. Then came the crowns. Don’t forget the 4 root-canals and 2 implants under some of those crowns.

I thought once every molar had a crown my troubles would be over. Silly me.

Now my crowns are getting old and popping off at the most inconvenient times. In April of last year I bit into my bean burrito, and found a rock. With one of my implants. I was not happy. You can read the long saga about that by clicking here.

I suspect I have been crowned more than all the Queens and Kings of England in the last 2 centuries. My dentist should bow when I show up at his office. Don’t you think?

Diary of a Nicotine Addict: Day 3

May 22, 2011December 3, 2012 ~ JodiLea

Sunday, May 22nd, 2011

Dear Diary,

I can’t believe I posted such a horrid photo on my blog yesterday. Sorry!

As I sit here, sipping on a Sugar-Free Rock Star because morning coffee really gets me jonesing for a cigarette, The Bitch is setting me up. What pisses me off the most is I know she is trying to sabotage me and yet I can’t stop her.

Welcome to addiction, where knowledge is not much power.

This morning her tactic is self-pity and resentment. (The Bitch is bringing out the heavy artillery already and I don’t know whether to be proud of this or terrified.) She attacks in the mornings because that is when I have the most awareness and energy. One or two little thoughts planted into my head can fester into a full-blown pity-party by noon.

This mornings thought: You would think your husband would mention how nice you smell.

That fleeting thought brings back to me all the times he told me I smelled like an ashtray. I start to feel resentful, then I pity poor little me, who smells NOT like an ashtray and nobody cares.

My next reaction is to retaliate. Should I pile on my favorite perfume until he notices? The man is not even out of bed yet and already in trouble.

He will probably get used to this as time goes on…