This was a search term that somehow directed someone to my blog.
Because WordPress tells me nearly anything and everything about my readers, except for who they actually are, another data point I have is that not one single person has clicked on F-StopMarin.com over on the margin over there to the right, and I think that is a crying shame. Please click that link now, and be prepared to feel very happy.
One week ago, I got my braces off. I have enjoyed my week of freedom, which came to a crashing halt today when I went to my follow up appointment for the Retainer Insertion. Now I am not so thrilled anymore. There is nothing wrong with braces, on paper, but what they never tell you about is the aftermath, like your days ’til the end of your life, where, to perpetuate (I like this word now) your perfect smile, you must willingly attach a large wire and plastic appliance to your the upper and lower palettes of your mouth, leaving you in a state of permament gag.
At least that has been my observation.
I apologize for no naked teeth photos, but this new one above, taken by my friend Michael Sexton, from the Carrera de San Rafael about a week back, could be one of the last photos in existence of my braced teeth. Here’s a link to even more. I like how it goes from me, to Shelley Olds, to me, to Shelley Olds, as if we were in the same group in the peloton. This is amazing trick photography, and he didn’t even need to use photo shop. Next and Back buttons can do so much.
The only reason why I’m smiling is because my friends, who accepted the bribe, stood on all four corners and straight-a-ways of the race to cheer for me. In this corner, they were instructed to say, “Make them bleed, Katie!” There were other scripted moments as well, like the banana peels, the WD-40, but the crucial maneuver was that none of my competitors were aware that these were scripted. That’s how I finished 26th out of 28.
One innocent bystander was not aware of the instructions, and yelled in free form, “Hang in there, number twelve!” I threw my glasses at him to make him shut up, because this was not yielding the desired effect. Unfortunately, I have now lost a perfectly good pair of sunglasses.