Bite Your Tongue

I'm not really compulsive. To date, I've never had anything remotely OCD about myself. But lately, I've taken to chewing the sides of my tongue.

I drive a lot. Normally, about 25,000 miles a year and now that dealer school is 130 miles round-trip 4 days a week, that mileage ante is even higher. So, of course, with so much idle time driving, I'm frequently lost in thought. Zoning out if you will. Suddenly, I realize I've been grinding my molars on the sides of my tongue. Chewing, as if I have a piece of steak back there. Except that steak is my tongue and not nearly as tasty.

What's up with that? I don't really hurt it when I chew but I find it a nuisance. It annoys me that I do anything compulsively let alone absent-mindedly, but it annoys me more that after I'm aware I'm doing it I have to dedicate 100% of my attention to stop doing it. I haven't noticed doing it anywhere other than in the car, either.

Is it stress? I honestly don't feel stressed out. Perhaps a habit that I need to work on to break? Great! (That was sarcasm, people. It doesn't translate well in text.)

I definitely grind my teeth in my sleep as evidenced by the "lecture" my dental hygienist gives me every six months, and my Little One does it horribly so, which the dentist insists she'll likely grow out of. Yeah, right.

So what's a guy to do? Google, right? Which I did. Tongue chewing is quite common. As long as the chewer is not drawing blood, apparently, its quite harmless. The Internet is great for learning there's other mental patients out there just like yourself, isn't it?

So I'm not going to sweat it. When I become aware of it, I'll consciously try to "calm" my mouth and perhaps it will pass in time.

Or, perhaps it will lead to some other, even more irritating OCD trait. I'm thinking of taking up the door-locking one in that event. You know, the one where you have to check the lock 70-billion times before leaving that house. I'm lucky if I check it 1/2 the time, now. At least that one serves a purpose in the end. Security.

Dora No Puede Explorar

My Spanish sucks. Does that translate to Dora Cannot Explore? Because she can't.


My wife and I bought the Little One a brand new loft bed. Her bedroom is small so we found that's the perfect solution for creating a bunch of space in her room so she can spread out and play. Plus we have high ceilings so it worked perfectly. Of course, the task involved totally deconstructing her room, building the bed and putting everything back in its new and spacious storage locations.

Toward the end of putting everything back, Mrs. B. stepped on one of the Little One's 3 or so Dora the Explorer dolls. This particularly irritating 15 inch bitch promptly breaks out into song, "Every boy and every girl, every where around the world....." in an incredibly shrill and irritating voice.

The Little One, sensing her mom's frustration with this pestulence, promptly ran over, grabbed little Dora by the ankles and proceeded to Paul Bunyon the thing into the new post of the loft bed. I mean a full-on, axe-type cut that Babe Ruth would have been proud of. Little Dora's head, neck and upper torso took the brunt of the blunt force trauma.

The singing stopped.

Fighting back tears of laughter, the Mrs. shot the Little One a look in an effort to "parent" even though it was hysterically funny. To which TLO responded, "What? It worked, didn't it? That thing's annoying."

Worked, it did. Probably forever. The doll doctor's prognosis for future Dora Exploration is not good. The prognosis for future stage and screen work is even dimmer.

Good.

Bummer

My mom wasn't feeling well enough to come down for the holiday. To top it off, my dad had come down with something as well. Bummer.

The plan now is a New Year's visit.

Other than that, I really enjoyed my long holiday weekend.

Merry Christmas to you too!

http://view.break.com/420325

Aww, c'mon Santa! You're better than that!

Must be the stress of so many unfinished toys and so few days left. That, or kid's pissing on his lap.

Have a Merry Christmas everyone!

Late, late, late, late, late show.

One of my main worries when I started dealer school was the long drive home after midnight. I feared I would be exhausted and fighting falling asleep at the wheel. That hasn't been an issue at all. In fact, after class I'm kind of wired up and usually stay up for 45 minutes to an hour once I get home, which means I'm getting to sleep around 2 a.m.

Since I've learned I'll be awake anyway, I've been stopping at the gym on my way home once or twice a week on days I haven't been able to get my workout in at lunchtime or right after work (but before school). So I'm in the gym at 1 a.m. working out. Its quiet and nice and tons of equipment is available. I was very happy a few years ago when my gym switched to 24-hour format because I've always been inconsistent in my workout scheduling and like all the flexibility I can get.

Plus, the tendinitis in my elbow has been cooperating. Things are good. This week marks the half way point of schooling too. We have a final, for blackjack, next week and our "auditions" the week of the first. The audition is the review of your dealing abilities and knowledge of all the rules and procedures. I'm pretty confident I'll do well.

Then the last few weeks are novelty games: Acey Ducey, Casino War, the Money Wheel, Caribbean Stud and Texas Hold 'Em.

I'm getting there!

Great News

I haven't gone into too much detail about it in blogspace, but I've touched on the fact that my mom has terminal cancer. Basically it is everywhere in her body, but the most debilitating part is it is in/on her spine. The diseased cells weaken the bone to the point where she has tiny cracks in the vertebra which could turn into breaks or worse, paralysis, should she fall or get hit by something. Obviously, she's living a careful existence but still living her life to the fullest her health will allow.

Her latest scans show the bones are actually stronger than they were during her last scan only a few months ago. Consequently, she called over the weekend to announce that she is feeling so much better lately that she will travel to stay with me for Christmas! Of course, she acts like its such a burden on us and it can be tedious convincing her that its our pleasure to have them. So, my parents will be down from Saturday through Christmas unless something unforeseen changes things.

Two years ago I wondered if that might be her last Christmas with us. Then last year I wondered it again. Perhaps I should stop wondering. She's too much of a fighter.

Can't wait until Saturday, mom. We all love you and my baby girl is overjoyed to see her Grammy and Grampa!

Differences

Mrs. Blogger and I were discussing the differences between men and women and I made a point I think she believes is true. I wonder if you do too --

Men find humor in the repulsive and pain.

To wit; the fart could be the most durable humorous occurrence ever. Jokes get old and funny movies seem not-so-funny after the passage of time. But to males, the fart is consistently funny (unless one pretends to be high-brow -- then I suspect its funny, but they'd never let on to it).

Two-year-olds laugh when they let one fly. Pre-teens think it fall-down hysterical when anyone, including dogs, fart. Teenagers revel in "farting in your general direction" or into a fan. College-age men compete in terms of its noxiousness or length or to test the "lighter theory". And old-timers, after a less-than-discrete emission, love blaming the dog, the running mouse or "barking spiders with bad breath". Apparently, at no point is it not funny.

And pain. Men know the pain a shot to the groin creates. Yet, they consistently think its funny. Funny, too, is the towel whip, sledding down stairs, the Indian burn, the titty twister or the bruises left from a drunken night. How else can one explain the success of Jackass and the like? Isn't 90% of that humor based on pain? Usually to the privates?

For the most part, women don't get any of that. Nor should they, I suppose. I can't imagine a woman putting shrimp in her binkini bottom and swimming with whale sharks. Yet, men think it hysterical when other men do it.

On the other hand, women find all things embarrassing funny. Were it a slip and fall on the ice in front of others (without injury, of course), a skirt tucked in pantyhose, an unzipped fly or split pants, toilet paper stuck to a shoe, or (like Mrs. B earlier today) forgetting a wallet but not realizing until after ordering lunch (she dug enough change out to finalize the transaction - and this occurrence warranted a phone call to me). For certain, they'll be red-faced and "devastated" but not to the point where the story won't merit repeating 5 or so more times during the course of the day.

Subtle differences, sure. And funny IS funny, of course. Maybe women prefer laughing at themselves and men rather laugh at others? If true, that's a sad trait. What do you think?