Teeth Dropping

Last June, I had a filling slip on one of my teeth.  It didn’t slip far, but it slipped just enough that I had to have it replaced (although, I waited until November to do it).  Upon my having it replaced, the dentist commented how I really shouldn’t get fillings done in France, then, since I had had the filling done in France.  However, I had had the filling done in France, because the filling had popped out while flossing (while I was living in France), only three months after it had first gone in… in the USA.  When the French replacement made its slight slip, it had done its duty of holding tight for over six years.  Also, while living in Germany a few years later, the other filling that had been done at the same time as the one that had popped out in France, well, it popped out while I was flossing.  So, I had to have both the US fillings replaced, because they came out while flossing.

Fast forward to now.  On Friday evening, guess what happened.  One of the fillings that was replaced, specifically the one that was replaced because it had chipped slightly (front tooth – it happens), though several years ago, well, it slipped!  And when?  While flossing.  Now, here I am, barely three and a half months (if that) after having the filling inserted, and here in the US again, and the filling is falling out.  I feel as though the dentist’s comment on France’s dental care was not only inaccurate a recommendation, but incorrectly directed.  Clearly the fact that so many of my fillings from the US have gone so poorly in terms of lasting quality, could rather recommend that I not get fillings done in the US.

I think this is the main reason I really wanted to get out of the US as soon as possible this past fall – I want medical and dental care to be affordable for me again in life.

Post-a-day 2018


Opera Snobs

We went to an opera showcase tonight, and, as we commented on the style of box seats in the hall (or was it when I was listening to the host say something about Mozart?), I recalled the night I first saw “Die Zauberflöte” (“The Magic Flute”).

You see, it was a regular night in my life in Vienna, and I thought it would be nice to go see a show – that was kind of an incredibly easy thing to do while living there.  I arrived to the theatre and purchased my ticket for the show using the fabulous discount that Austria offers to young adults and students, and headed toward the coat check.  At this point, I recognized a friend of mine ahead of me, and called out his name.  Apparently, we had both spontaneously decided to come to the show that night, and, with my having bought my ticket directly after he’d bought his, our seats were together.  It was my first – and possibly only, actually – time in a box seat.  The show was truly spectacular, and it was wonderful having someone to share the experience with me.  When I later relayed the tale to my mom, we were utterly tickled by how crazy the whole thing was, especially with how snobby it could come across.  ‘Oh, yes.  I had spontaneously decided to attend an opera one night, ran into a friend upon arrival, and we enjoyed the wonderful show together from our box seats.’  😛

Post-a-day 2018

Get a handle

I broke my new (to me) car today.  Okay, well, a part of it.  The car was parked on a street whose sides really sloped downward – and I mean a lot.  When I went to open the driver door, after unlocking it, the door opened just slightly, before my hand flew towards me, and the door slammed back shut.  The handle had broken.

And so, at least until I find a bonding agent – aka glue – that will hold well enough to stick the broken underside of the driver handle into place – hey, I wonder if that’s the issue with the other door – , I’ll have to do what I did this afternoon and tonight, and enter my vehicle from the passenger front door, because now both doors on the driver side won’t open from the outside (but the back seat door came that way when I received the car, so that wasn’t my doing).

Add that to the duct tape, and I am an image in blue 2002.

I mean, talk about ghetto – I’m getting there faster than ever anticipated (which was never!).  Haha.

Post-a-day 2018

True to your heart

Guy: ‘C—, you know, there are people over here you could be serving, instead of just hanging out here,’ he says teasingly.

Hannah: ‘Uh, she is absolutely doing her job.  She is giving us, the guests, exactly what we want, and, right now, that is her attention.’

Guy: ‘Well, is there anything I can do for you?’

Hannah: ‘That depends.  What are you offering?’

Guy: ‘I’m offering whatever you’re thinking.  What would you like for me to offer?’

Hannah: ‘…We could discuss it.’

[laughter from both]


How’s that for silly flirtatious conversation in the wine garden?  It’s amazing how wonderful life seems to go when I just let things be and rest calmly within myself.  That was a brief glimpse into the many wonderful conversations that occurred the other day/evening/night in my life, when I was comfortable and at ease with and within myself.  I love being me/myself.  🙂

Post-a-day 2018

What to do… slash I am a nutcase sometimes

I am having breakdown after breakdown with these graduate school essays.  Is it that I really just don’t want to apply?  I think not.  Is it that I am scared of applying?  Likely.

I am scared for various reasons.

I do not want to be rejected.  I am good enough for this program.  But I might not be a good match for it.  So, if the school decides that I am not a good match, and rejects my application, what then?  If the school accepts me, and I later find out that I am not a good match, and I end up hating the program, what then?  What if I am a good match for the program/school, but I end up just not liking the studies?  And am I applying because it just feels like something safe to pursue?  So many of my co-agers seem to have resorted to graduate school whenever something else for work has not panned out as hoped.  Do I resist applying, because I am worried that it will look like a sort of ‘I messed up and had no back-up plan, so I have to go to graduate school,’ kind of thing?

I like being prestigious.  I enjoy being snobby.  (Not like crazy, but to a certain degree, I mean.)  I love the schools I have already attended, and I love being able to tell people that I attended them.  They are special, well-known, highly acclaimed, and amazing quality schools.  I feel like this one is nowhere near the same caliber, and holds very little respect in its name.  The only way I would be comfortable attending it, would be if I had something amazing afterward, be it a spectacular PhD program or seemingly unreal work success.  It is the kind of place where I would want to work, not attend school.  Just like my teaching last semester, I want to be able to share about the school as someone who supports it as an outsider.  Attending the school would feel in adequate for my own abilities, skills, and knowledge.  I want a graduate degree, but I think I don’t want it from here.

However, is this fear coming forth, creating excuses for me?  I suppose the best plan of action would be to apply to the program, and then see what happens.  If they accept me, great.  Now I get to choose to attend or not.  If they reject me, great.  Now I get to choose what else to do with my talents and my time.  (I think I want to do the latter already.)


Okay.  So, let’s finish this application, and let’s rock it!


P.S.  And I know that I want the degree so that I can further my career in teaching, expanding it to English, as well as creating the possibility of teaching at the college level.  However, I think that is precisely what has been holding gem back from seeing what is really there for me.  That just makes so much sense.  It is difficult to set aside things that make beautiful sense.  If I take the step of this graduate program now, then I can begin teaching English quite soon.  However, I love teaching high school.  And I love doing other things, too.  I am substitute teaching today.  I love subbing regularly in a school, where I get to know the students just enough, but am not stuck to one subject area alone. Long-term subbing is kind of the best.  Yes, it pays way less than regular teaching.  But I love it.  I want to teach part-time.  Period.  Even when I consider my life post-Master-degree, I still see myself teaching only part-time.  I think what I fear the most is what I will do in order to sustain a part-time teaching lifestyle financially.  Or, rather, how to figure out what to do.  If I don’t manage that now, I will spend the next two and a half years freaking out about just that – if only in the background of my mind.  I think I want to figure that out now.  Now.  🙂

Post-a-day 2018