Well, well, well...

What have we here?

If it isn't my old retainer, shoved into the back of a drawer in the downstairs bathroom and left for dead. Perhaps it's time I resurrect this bad boy and show the world just how hipster I can be.

Oh dear. It doesn't fit.

That's disappointing...but at least I have this CLEAN & CLEAR FACE WASH(!!!) to lift my spirits!

Yes, another blast-from-the-past uncovered by today's bathroom decluttering, a bottle of the world most tingly blackhead scrub!

YES! The smell.

YES! The chunky lather.

YES! The burn. The horrible wonderful burning.

I loved Clean & Clear Deep Action Cream Cleanser because it smelled like bandaids and stung like IcyHot. It felt medicinal. Not only would it suck the life out of your zits, but it would also cleanse your soul.

I fear that the contents of this particular bottle have long expired, chemicals festering for 14 years to form an even more toxic and corrosive concoction. One wash with the stuff could leave me faceless (and my face has always been my best feature). Still, it's tempting. Just to feel that deep clean again. Nothing else compares.

Sweet dreams,
Margaret

Wouldn't it be great if...

My 2.5-year-old nephew Freddie is at that age where he knows what he wants, and he's not afraid to voice it! To avoid the back-and-forth and discourage the whining, a tactic my Mom taught us, and the one I notice my sister using, is to simply agree and say, in a very cheery voice, "Oh yeah, wouldn't that be great?" or "Yum, a cookie does sound good. I wish we had some too." It's pretty disarming.

So, to take a leaf out of that parenting book, instead of phrasing the following list in typical Madgespace whine format, I'm going to keep it positive and take a "Wouldn't it be great?" approach instead. I'm not complaining, I'm dreaming!


Wouldn't it be great if...

...a benevolent rich person gave me a famous painting as a gift, which I could then sell to buy a house and get on that dang property ladder I've heard so much about?

...my significant other enjoyed back massages as much as me?

...Walt Disney World was a two-hour train journey away, and cost just enough to stop me from going weekly, but not too much to stop me from going altogether (about £30)?

...there was a rail bridge over the Atlantic?

...Starbust sold packs of just reds and pinks?*

...we could buy a custom teeth-flossing machine from our dentist that was moulded just for our mouth and would be like one of those circular apple slicers, yet with floss instead of blades?

Like this, but shaped for a mouth and with floss instead of the slicers.
Image by rosmary via Wikimedia Commons

...Pinterest didn't act like it knew me? It don't know me.

...you could edit a tweet? See below.

Just bite my thumbnail down too short. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
— Margaret Kay (@grassyllama) February 4, 2015

...."boyfriend" style jeans weren't just a nice concept, but actually looked flattering when worn?

...the first sunny, hot day of the year (75°F/23°C) was always considered an automatic, federally-mandated holiday? At least for people living above a certain latitude?

...if we could go back in time and make fun of people for writing with quills? HAHAHAHHAHAHAH. Losers!

Love,
Margaret

*Edit: Turns out, this exists and I've actually already blogged about it before. Thanks to cousin Clare for letting me know! #GroundhogDay

On tongues

"I just stick my tongue out because I hate smiling in pictures. 

It's so awkward. It looks so cheesy."

— Miley Cyrus

---

I can't clean my tongue enough. Every morning and (most) evenings I give it a good, vigorous wash with the toothbrush. I scrape and I scrape. I rinse, reload on toothpaste and repeat. Yet still, those bits of beige persist. 

What must I do to get the perfect red tongue I so desperately want? 

I want it to look like a ripe strawberry—NOT like our old comforter, lumpy from the tumbledryer and covered in tea stains.  

Listerine works wonders. It may not get me the red I want, but a lengthly gargle of the poison will leave my tongue a nice pale pink. Still, it doesn't last long. A few hours later and ol' tonguey will be back to that disgusting khaki hue it prefers. 

Image by Duncan Kenneth Winter via Wikimedia Commons

Speaking of tongues, it's best not to think about yours too much. Just like with breathing and blinking, overthinking it—asking too many meddling questions—is enough to prompt a full-on panic attack. 

There are certain aspects of our biology that we should just accept at face value. Thinking too hard about that thick, slimy, spatulate muscle (the human body's strongest!) is not a road you want to go down. But sometimes you just can't help it!

GOD, what's the point of it anyway? When I'm not using it to propel globs of chewed up pizza down my gullet, what does it do all day? What's it up to? All it does is sit there, clinging to the roof of my mouth like one of those plastic bubble swimming pool covers. Yet, it doesn't ever fully relax. If it did, I'd swallow it. I think. That could just be a rumour. Either way, it's a horrific thought. 

Also, I get that it's attached to the back of my throat. But to what exactly? Where does it start? 

AAAAAAH!

Margaret

OK, so that's what an infected tooth canal smells like

Vomit, rotting flesh, cat urine, raw sewage, fish guts, skunk anus, post-Italian dinner morning breath, garbage, stagnant water, wet dog, spoiled milk, burnt hair—that's what the inside of an infected tooth canal smells like. 

How do I know? Because today I smelt it (and dealt it) as I lay in horror on the dentist's chair.

The dentist: "And that smell is telling us that there is indeed an infection in there!"

Me: "Ah, uh huh."

She carved out my canal and squirted it with disinfectant. Then I sat up, rinsed and said goodbye as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. 

But I was shaken. How could my body turn on me like that? Why, it's not my body at all, but just a complex congregation of cells that act purely in their own self interest. 

GOOD HEAVENS IT STANK. Shamefully, appallingly, dry-heavingly bad. I knew teeth were a problem, but I had no idea they were capable of such carnage. 

Actually, you know what, I can't write anymore. I'm too disgusted with myself to carry on. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go take a hot shower and then lay completely still under the covers contemplating the meaning of life. 

Toodle do, 

Margaret

Long in the tooth

Not my teeth.
Image by dozenist via Wikimedia Commons

Teeth are such a buzzkill. Always having to be brushed, flossed and doted upon. The dreaded dentist appointments. The sensitive toothpaste. The fillings. The root canals. ENOUGH ALREADY. Let's be honest, teeth are a problem. They're a bloody medieval annoyance. It's 2014—isn't it time we find a solution?

Well, you might be surprised to hear the answer already exists. Scientists at Kings College London and the University of Leeds have invented a way to reverse tooth decay. They've done it!

From the article:

Nigel Pitts from the Dental Institute at King's College London said, "The way we treat teeth today is not ideal - when we repair a tooth by putting in a filling, that tooth enters a cycle of drilling and re-filling as, ultimately, each "repair" fails. Not only is our device kinder to the patient and better for their teeth, but it's expected to be at least as cost-effective as current dental treatments. Along with fighting tooth decay, our device can also be used to whiten teeth."

WHAT!? Why isn't this being rolled out in dentist offices everywhere!? Maybe it's because fixing tooth decay permanently will mean a lot less business for dentists. I'm no conspiracy theorist, but if the dental crown fits...

BB and D

Every family has its colloquialisms, its own set of slang that you gradually learn nobody outside your extended family says. We have:

• Gunders (underwear)
• Toe-do (large green garbage can, or "rolly bin" if you're British)
• Hukilau (thingamajig)
• Sloboblian (extended form of "slob")
• Vivian butancles (your bottom)
• Po-to (poached eggs and toast)
• Pudin (term of endearment/vagina) 

Another one we have is 'BB and D', which stands for 'bad breath and dogs', which basically means really really really bad breath. Sometimes we sing it to the tune of "and many more" (what you sing after at the end of the 'Happy Birthday' song): bad breath and doggggggs!

The New Deal

Today my niece Keeley was brushing her teeth in the living room of the rental flat they're staying in.

Anna: "Keeley, do you brush your tongue?"

Keeley: "Yeah." She sticks out her tongue and brushes it. 

My mom: "You know, that's a new deal. You never used to hear about brushing the tongue. That's a new deal."


What are your tooth-related anecdotes? How often do you floss? Let me know in the comments!

Love,
Margaret

Reality Bites

Remember that movie? Reality Bites. Was it good? It was good, right?

Also, a Kenmore Junior High yearbook when Char and Francie where there had a picture of the "world" (globe, earth, etc.) on it with a large serrated bite taken out of it and text that said "When reality bites, bite back". Very strange. Does not seem fitting for a yearbook cover.

Anyway, reality literally bit for me yesterday. I went to the dentist- which is a completely different experience over here, let me tell you. They usher you in, you lie down on the chair, they stick a needle in your gum before you have time to be scared, and 15 minutes later your cavity is filled. It makes me wonder what in the world my previous, American dentists have been doing in my mouth for all those hours. I suspect they're just doing a more thorough job.

ANYWAY, I must have looked like a weakling because they did not take their chances in numbing my tooth. They hit me with a novacaine shot that would have killed a small mammel (rabbit, raccoon, toy poodle). It didn't kill me, but it did paralyze half of my face giving me the appearance of a terrible stroke victim.

Check out these pics of me trying to smile! HAHA!

Then, as one does, I wanted to eat leftover pizza. LIKE A FOOL, I just took a huge-arse bite. Immediately I realized I had bitten the side of my lip. Live and learn. It's healed and I'm ok, but it really ruined the leftover-pizza-eating experience.

I've learned that mistakes happen and you just have to learn from them and move on. We're (Andy and I) trying to get this Backstage Edinburgh business up and running. Yesterday I accidently sent the wrong proof of our map/guide to the printers and it set us back some big bones. It was a poopy, POOPY, feeling, but I went to Char's and got some much needed perspective. THEN, I watched Mary's Haiti video and really got some much needed perspective. So proud of my cuz! THEN, I chatted with my Dad who had just uploaded an amazing video to Facebook for the first time which also made me proud.

WARM REGARDS,

Margaret