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Only some of us come off like stars
There is no redeeming value to this post. Be warned.
I get my teeth from my father rather than my mother, meaning I've still never had a cavity as opposed to fillings in every tooth with occasional crowns by the time I was twenty, but I grind them badly enough that a few years ago I bit into a nectarine and cracked a half-circle out of one of my front teeth. It was traumatizing; I believe I responded by making a playlist about monsters and going to bed with the complete works of an obscure Polish playwright. So I wear a nightguard, which I dislike, but it keeps me from needing more of my bite filled in with composite; that was an even more demoralizing experience. My teeth are a lot blunter now than they used to be.
I dropped the nightguard down the toilet this morning. I didn't even fumble it: it popped out of my mouth with more than the expected force and made a straight shot down the porcelain, one of those nightmare bits of comedy you couldn't restage if you were trying. I don't think of myself as the sort of person who exclaims in moments of crisis, but somebody was certainly wailing, "Oh, God, I don't even know how that happened!" I had been awake for maybe five minutes, if by awake you mean I was on my feet and at least one of my eyes was open. It was not a good introduction to the day.
And there are worse problems to have, okay, I can name you half a dozen without even starting in on terminal illness, but I am already feeling financially fragile—my gift to the friend whose wedding I'm attending this upcoming weekend in Maryland is that I'll be there at all—and not at my best and I don't like breaking things. And all of my dreams last night were nightmares. Usually, the one bright side to that state is that when you finally wake up, things haven't gotten worse.
So tonight I am supposed to see Alex Cox's Revengers Tragedy (2002) at the Harvard Film Archive with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rushthatspeaks and some other people, and if it's raining too heavily for a group outing, I'm still going to the movie, because it's either that or kill something myself. But I'd rather just be going because I like post-apocalyptic blood all over the stage. And Christopher Eccleston.
I get my teeth from my father rather than my mother, meaning I've still never had a cavity as opposed to fillings in every tooth with occasional crowns by the time I was twenty, but I grind them badly enough that a few years ago I bit into a nectarine and cracked a half-circle out of one of my front teeth. It was traumatizing; I believe I responded by making a playlist about monsters and going to bed with the complete works of an obscure Polish playwright. So I wear a nightguard, which I dislike, but it keeps me from needing more of my bite filled in with composite; that was an even more demoralizing experience. My teeth are a lot blunter now than they used to be.
I dropped the nightguard down the toilet this morning. I didn't even fumble it: it popped out of my mouth with more than the expected force and made a straight shot down the porcelain, one of those nightmare bits of comedy you couldn't restage if you were trying. I don't think of myself as the sort of person who exclaims in moments of crisis, but somebody was certainly wailing, "Oh, God, I don't even know how that happened!" I had been awake for maybe five minutes, if by awake you mean I was on my feet and at least one of my eyes was open. It was not a good introduction to the day.
And there are worse problems to have, okay, I can name you half a dozen without even starting in on terminal illness, but I am already feeling financially fragile—my gift to the friend whose wedding I'm attending this upcoming weekend in Maryland is that I'll be there at all—and not at my best and I don't like breaking things. And all of my dreams last night were nightmares. Usually, the one bright side to that state is that when you finally wake up, things haven't gotten worse.
So tonight I am supposed to see Alex Cox's Revengers Tragedy (2002) at the Harvard Film Archive with
rushthatspeaks and some other people, and if it's raining too heavily for a group outing, I'm still going to the movie, because it's either that or kill something myself. But I'd rather just be going because I like post-apocalyptic blood all over the stage. And Christopher Eccleston.
no subject
For what it's worth, and I hope you don't mind my making the suggestion, one friend of mine tells me she uses an athletic mouthguard, which are much cheaper than the dental ones.* I've been intending to try it myself, as my own is nearly worn out but I don't want to spend the money for a new one, but I haven't done yet, so I can't speak to whether it actually works from personal experience or not. Still, it might be worth looking at them, I suppose. I hope that's not completely unhelpful to you.
I'm sorry for the nightmares as well, and I hope tonight will be a better one.
I hope the group outing has worked out, and I hope in any event that you've seen the film and that it's made you feel better, at least a little bit.
I'd like to see it sometime, myself--the concept of a Jacobean play made into a post-apocalyptic film appeals to me. I'd rather hope you've not felt the need to go killing anything yourself, because that tends to be illegal and even when it's not it's generally messy.
*The ones she's talking about, I gather, are the non-customised ones sold in sporting goods stores. For that matter, I think they used to be sold in drug stores, at least when I was a child.
no subject
It works brilliantly. Portions of the dialogue are translated into contemporary Liverpool slang. And the one substantial alteration to the plot—to make the antihero's sister an active participant in the revenge as opposed to a piece in the game—I approve of wholeheartedly; Carla Henry's Castiza is awesome.
no subject
...to make the antihero's sister an active participant in the revenge as opposed to a piece in the game...
That does sound an appropriate alteration. I'll keep my eye out for a chance to see it.
no subject
no subject
Interesting. The ones I remember seeing were just sort of massive clunky things that I don't think had any boiling for semi-customisation at all. I really ought to at least go look at what's available.
I didn't even know there WERE fully customized ones.
I was told I had a tooth grinding problem and that I needed one made for me at some point when I still had dental insurance, which, as I think on it, is really a ridiculously long time ago.