it's my birthday!

It's my birthday today. 26 big ones. yee haw. With birthday territory comes the "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to" song, which scrolls through my head all day. I've also already planned out a birthday route which will get me the most amount of free stuff - breakfast at Denny's, free lunch at Mongolie grill, billy miner pie at the keg and maybe a clown ice cream come at Baskin Robins. I love free and I love birthdays. I took today off work to take advantage of all the birthdayness of the day.

Being a twin, our birthday was always a big deal - we got to celebrate twice as hard and long to make up for the sharing of the day. It was fun to celebrate a birthday with someone. Someone who was having just as much fun as you because it was her birthday too.

I'm the first one to spout the phrase "sharing is caring", but it's not necessarily something I live by. I mostly say it because it rhymes and rhyming makes me giggle. I'll share my food, I'll share my clothes, I'll share my unwanted opinions.. all these things I can do without batting an eyelash. The one thing that irks me to share, still, after 26 years, is my birthday. We would get the same presents, sometimes in different colours and most often it would be one cake with two names scrawled on top. Unless you time the opening of presents and blowing of candles exactly, someone will be getting shafted. It took Manda and I a decade or so to perfect it, but we managed to get Shared Birthday Etiquette sorted out.

I think I was 20 years old the first time I celebrated a birthday sans-sister. It was strange. Since then we've missed a couple more; one year I spent my birthday weekend in Vegas. I came home to a surprise party being thrown for Amanda. It was a very strange experience. Nobody has expected me to be home yet, so there weren't any presents for me. The cake had her name solely on it. I wasn't even wearing a party dress. I believe I went home and cried myself to sleep that night. It might have just been post-Vegas blues though.

This weekend I will be spending this birthday in Whistler, which is one of my favorite places. The sister will be absent from this trip due to a death in her husband's family, which makes me sad for them and then super sad for me being without an Amanda for the weekend. Lucky for me, I got a talking toy hamster for my birthday and I think that will replace her nicely. *lol jk.

Because of their abrupt change in plans, we decided to cancel our hotel room, which was a 2 bedroom suite. At this point I still have not re booked a room. I am toying with the idea of using the Suite Secrets feature on whistler.com. Essentially, it's like Hotel Roulette. You can pick how many stars, the type of room and where it is located in Whistler - but you don't get to find out which hotel it is until you've entered your payment information. Could be fun? I've put it off for two days because I was nervous, but now that I'm 26 years old I think I feel ready. Wish me luck...and more importantly, wish me a happy birthday! and then go and wish Amanda one. it's only fair.

Floss much?

A young Asian girl takes me into the room and politely asks if she can take my coat. I acquiesce. She sits me down and tells me she'll be right back. While nervously waiting, I wonder where my usual girl is, I've been seeing her for nearly ten years and she was nicely broken in.

New girl comes back and informs me we are going to do xrays. I accidentally bite her glove as she's removing her hand. I apologize as profusely as I can while biting down on the tray in my mouth. She moves on to the other side and once again I bite her glove as she's pulling out her hand. Either her timing is off or I am retarded.

She asks if I've been flossing and brushing regularly. My deer in headlights look splays across my face and I just stare at her... "Brushing, at least?" she inquires further. I nod my head enthusiastically. Oh my, we're off to a bad start.

My long term hygienist peaks her head around the corner and says, "Watch out for this one, she's trouble!" I'm excited to see her but then wonder why she's not doing my teeth. Was it my lack of flossing that put her off? Am I only worthy of new girls? She inquires after my sisters and I tell her all the gossip. The new girl probably feels left out, but I don't care.

Before newbie sticks her hands and pointy objects into my mouth I ask wher her name is. She tells me it's Lisa. Great - Lisa! I like Lisas.

Lisa gets me to open my mouth and I do so, as wide as I can, hoping to win her over with my cooperation. She tells me that there is a fair bit of staining and asks if I drink coffee. I nod. Wine too, she asks? Uh huh. Now I'm nervous. So far, in Lisa's eyes, I don't have a very good track record. I curse my Optik White toothpaste for doing a half-assed job and vow to start a strict flossing regime sometime before my next appointment. After taking another look around she asks me if I ever had braces and I tell her No. She comments on how straight my teeth are (like I had anythning to do with that). I begin to like Lisa.

Back to business - she pulls out the whirly scrapy drill gun thing and has at'er. Within the first thirty seconds she hit a sensitive spot (damn receding gums) and my eyes well up. She asks if I'm okay and I mentally punch her in the face, but just make a gargled uh huh noise. She stops to suction up the pooling blood from my bleeding gums. She explains why they are bleeding - sensitive from the lack of flossing. She learns me all about my saliva glands and plaque buildup.

I have a sneaking suspicion this girl is fresh from Hygienist School. The tells: She hasn't quite mastered the art of not getting saliva all over my face. She adjusts the overhead lamp every thirty seconds. She feels the need to educate me about brushing too hard. She can't get the pedal speed quite right and goes from too slow to too fast on the polishing. Her use of the water rinsy thing made it feel like she was using a fire hose and the water got all over my face. She almost let me convince her that she didn't need to floss my teeth with a promise that I'd floss tonight (UNLIKELY).

Don't get me wrong, I like Lisa. She is the third best hygienist I've ever had. I just think her and I need a few more sessions together.

After a cursory nod from my dentist, I'm sent on my way. I don't know if it's the proximity to Tim Horton's (two doors down) or the fact that I'm not allowed to eat or drink anything for an ENTIRE hour... but every time I leave the dentist I get a horrible craving for a hot chocolate. I bet it would taste twice as delicious with a plaque free mouth.