Archive for March, 2010

Heckling Hygienist

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on March 31, 2010 by Ella Slayne

I had to endure my six monthly teeth clean the other day.  Actually when I say six monthly, it’s more like eighteen monthly because I put it off for as long as possible  – usually until I can feel the plague building up behind my teeth.  Not really!  But maybe until I can see coffee stains. Ugh! I disgust myself –  but the fact is I, like many others, am not a big fan of going to the dentist.  All that prodding and whirring makes my toes curl.

This visit I was given the talkative hygienist.  Her name is Paula.  She’s cleaned my teeth before and her incessant chatter makes the whole the experience even more excruciating.  It’s ironic really because I think she thinks that her nattering is relaxing.  And maybe it is, for some people.  For me though,  it just adds more stress.  Why?  Because she  perpetually asks questions which I have the inability to answer, usually due to some whizzing dental instrument in my mouth or failing that, a gobful of saliva, and it makes me feel uncomfortable.  It goes like this:

Paula: I saw the new Matt Damon movie the other night, it was awesome!  Have you seen it?

Me: uff (also attempting to move my head slightly from side to side)

Paula: Keep still please. (Scraping my molars)  Oooh you have a lot of plaque here …. Doesn’t he go out with Jennifer Annisten?

Me: uhuhu (almost gagging).

Paula(Spraying a vast amount of strange tasting water in my mouth) No it’s Jessica Briel!  He’s married to Jessica Briel isn’t he?  

I know she’s wrong –  I’ve read enough OK magazines to know that it’s Biel not Briel and that she’s not married to Matt Damon anyway oh yes I know my Hollywood trivia – but I give up.  Paula, on the other hand, does not and I spend the rest of my time clenching  the chair,  listening to her prattle away – I would have gritted my teeth if I could have.

You see it’s essentially rather difficult to express yourself fully in a grunt.   Worse than that, it’s common for a grunt to come out all wrong and then sound terribly rude.  In fact  it’s probably best not to grunt at all but then I was brought up to answer when someone talks to you,  so the silent treatment doesn’t come easily to me.   

Perhaps there is a special sitting-in-a dentist-chair-grunt that I don’t know about  – a universal grunt which answers everything? 

Seems to me there’s a flaw in dental training here.   I mean don’t they practice this as Dentist School? Don’t dental students  have their teeth cleaned aswell? What do they do? Are they taught how to make the special grunt? 

 Afterwards, my teeth are sparkly and white – she’s done a good job and it’s worth all the trauma.  Then the Dentist, Dr Truss, comes over to see me. 

“So Ms Jenkins, how do you like our new and improved sound system?”  He looks all  smug and superior, and points to some sleek speakers in the ceiling which must have cost a bob or two.

 This is what I want to say:  “Dr Truss – what is the point of attempting to relax your patients with a hi-tech speaker system playing mysteriously soothing pipe music or a DVD player showing reruns of Frasier, when your hygienists undo all the good work by pointlessly attempting to engage them in conversation?  It’s a waste of bubblegum flavoured cleaning stuff quite frankly!”

But I don’t say that.  Instead I say: “Very nice!” And smile.

Bye y’all!


Diamonds and stones

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on March 24, 2010 by Ella Slayne

Ella has downloaded some songs by John Denver!   Now I’ve nothing against the lovely John –   I have to confess to wishing I was called Annie more than once or twice and wondering if I could fill up anyone senses,  but having to listen to them again and again can be a touch troubling, especially when  you’re rattling around in someone’s subconcious.   

I must have heard Some Days Are Diamonds more than a million times today – I exaggerate but that’s how it feels – boy that song goes on and on!  Eventually, I found myself pondering the lyrics and you know, actually it makes a lot of sense – some days are diamonds and some days are stones respect to Mr Denver, he was on to something!  

Here are some examples of diamond and stone days – as I see them anyway:

 Diamond days

1) Managing to shave my legs without a single scratch.

2) Buying a scatter cushion at Pottery Barn on a whim, finding out that it’s on sale and then finding out that it goes perfectly with the duck egg blue walls in the living room!

 3) Choosing  the soup and salad option for lunch, with no dressing.  This hopefully  leads to…

4) Looking good in my favourite wrap dress without any help from Spanx!

5)  Finding out that he does likes me that way after all!

Stone Days:

1) Waking up to find that my face is covered in PMS postules!

2) Laddering a new pair of tights the first time I put them on.  I really hate tights – or should I say pantyhose?  Such a strange word – makes me feel like I should water the garden or something!  Anyway my point is this: where’s the pleasure in having a bunch of nylon in your crotch? 

3) Reading the label of  the best baked potato soup ever to find out that it has 50 grams fat in it per serving and there are actually three servings in the pot and I’ve been eating the whole thing!  This inevitably leads to…

4) Accepting that I cannot possibly wear favourite wrap dress without the help of spanx!

5) Finding out that he doesn’t like me that way anymore.

Please can someone turn that music OFF?! 

Bye y’all!

A Conditioner Crisis!

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on March 19, 2010 by Ella Slayne

I recently treated myself to a new hair shampoo and matching conditioner. It’s one of those ones that you can’t buy just anywhere.  You can only buy it in beauty spas and hair salons. Such exculsivity makes it terribly expensive and also somehow means it will have much better nourishing and volumizing properties than any of its cheaper competitors.  It’s strange isn’t it, how when you’re standing in the bright lights of the supermarket aisle it seems completely silly to spend $28 on a sea kelp enriched shampoo – somehow it wouldn’t  look right next to the deli-sliced ham and value pack loo roll –  but when you’re in the dimly lit spa, listening to the dulcet tones of Enya, having just had a Deep Cleansing Facial Mist, spending nearly $100 on hair products seems the only sensible thing to do?

So far it seems pretty good; smells nice, makes my hair feel soft  – which is a huge feat in itself because as I may have mentioned before my hair is prone to dry frizz.  There is a small problem however. 

The directions on the bottle of conditioner state very clearly that you have to leave it on for two minutes before rinsing off.  Which, quite frankly, has added a bit of stress to my morning routine.  I mean two minutes is pretty difficult to time in a shower – there is no clock in my bathroom and I do not wear a watch, waterproof or otherwise.  I use my phone for time-keeping which is most certainly not waterproof – I know this because I dropped it in a puddle once and it conked out on me. I had to buy a replacement in the end because even drying it out in the Texas sun could not bring it back to life!  Thank goodness I only buy the cheapest model VirginMobile has to offer, the stress of having a pricey cell would be too much for me to handle.  

Oops I’m rambling… so back to me, in the shower, with luxury conditioner on my head, trying to work out whether it has been there for two minutes or not.  There are things you can do to pass time of course, shave legs, exfoliate with a bamboo body brush or even do a quick mid-shower squeegee (see Feb post, Succumbing to the Squeegee) but how do I know if they take two minutes or not?  I’ve never timed such activities, obviously, and what if I accidently leave it on longer than that?  Will it start to burn my scalp?  Will it begin to over-condition perhaps?  And is that bad for my hair?  Then there’s the problem of not leaving it on long enough?  Does that mean I am not taking full advantage of all it’s super-conditioning sea kelp properties?   Am I then washing away all the goodness of the ocean down my hair-matted plughole?

Honestly, if the stuff has to be so expensive because it’s scientifically formulated, couldn’t the experts have spent a bit of time formulating it so it doesn’t have to be left on for two minutes – can’t be that difficult can it? After all they apprently worked out how to hydrate and condition every individual hair follicle

I wonder if I should have just bought a big bottle of Frizz Control Pantene instead…

Bye y’all!

Dialogue with a dermatologist

Posted in Uncategorized on March 1, 2010 by Ella Slayne

I met a dermatologist at a party the other day.  Couldn’t believe my luck because I’ve had a mole on my neck which looks a bit questionnable.  I’ve been planning to get it looked at, but other stuff keeps getting in the way, like shaving my legs or making toast.  Not really high on my list of priorities then!   I did a bit of  reasearch on the internet but it was all a bit vague.

So when I was introduced to Fiona The Dermatologist I thought:  here’s an opportunity to get a quick examination for free!  After all, a trained dermatologist must surely be able to spot a suspicious freckle a mile off.  After the initial introduction – during which I had managed only to simper in awe –  Fiona had been swept away by Dylan The Fitness Instructor, so I hovered by the party mix for a while, trying to look nonchalant while nibbling wasabi peas – which isn’t easy.      Eventually she came over to grab a mushroom vol-au-vent and I took this as my way in. 

“You have some pea on your chin” she said, smiling at me.  Well it was a start. 

“Are you sure it’s not a mole!” I smirked back because actually I thought that was rather witty!

“Er no…I’m pretty sure it’s a pea”  she said as she delicately put the pastry case into her mouth.  It was like a master class in how to eat a vol-au-vent.  There was no flaky pastry on her blouse, no creamy gunk dribbling out of the sides of her mouth – I couldn’t help gazing in admiration. 

 I brushed the bit of pea from my chin and said: “Actually I do have a mole.”

“Oh?”  she said, surveying the other snacks on offer.

“Yes it’s on my neck… here.”  I jutted my neck towards and leaned to the right exposing my potentially diseased blemish.  “Would you mind having a quick look?”  I said, I put my hand out towards the table for support but found the spinach dip instead.  “Ew!”

“Here’s a napkin” Fiona said, handing me a floral serviette.  She was very cool.

“Oh thanks!” I pulled my hand out, accidentally flicking some dip her way.  I, on the other hand,  was not so cool.   There was a big blob at the top of her cleavage.  I was going to mention it but then she said: “So, let me see this worrying beauty spot.”

I pointed it out, thrilled, at last, to get an expert opinion, instead of  relying on Google Images.  “It’s … just…here.”

“Oh yes I see what you mean…” she was squinting, which was a little off-putting actually because I mean, you would expect a dermatologist to have 20-20 vision wouldn’t you?  “It is a little irregular…”  My heart started pounding, my worst fear was coming true – this was it, I was doomed.  “But nothing I would worry about.”   No, because it’s not on your neck!  I didn’t say that out-loud.

“Really?  Are you sure? It’s a bit bumpy.”  I leaned in closer to her so she could get a better look.  “I can find a magnifying glass if that would help”  I said, aware that I was crossing the line and possibly becoming mad-person-at-the-party

She grabbed another vol-au-vent.  The spinach dip was still there, nestled in her cleavage.   “Honestly it’s fine.  Would you excuse me? I must go and socialize” she winked at me.  “There are some rather attractive men here don’t you think, Jackie?” 

“It’s Josie” I said, pointlessly because she had already disappeared into the merry throng – a skin specialist with spinach dip down her top.

 Obviously I’m still worried about my freckle, because her diagnosis was obviously not to be trusted.  I mean she couldn’t even get my name right and you’d expect someone who inspects dodgy moles for a living,  to pay attention to details wouldn’t you?  

Bye y’all!