I cut Gil’s hair today. As thrilled as I am at the money-saving potential of this newly-learned ability (especially considering how quickly the man’s hair grows), I have inadvertently discovered that hair-cutting is a terrible task for a woman with even mildly obsessive compulsive tendencies.

Here’s how it went down:

Erin: “Okay, let’s go cut your hair!”

Gil: “Yay!”

Elapsed time: 10 minutes

Gil: “Are you done yet?”

Erin: “Shh.”

Even. Must make it even.

Elapsed time: 20 minutes

Gil (with growing frustration): “Unngghh!”

Erin: “Hold still! I’m almost done!”

Even. EVEN. EVEN!!

Elapsed time: 40 minutes

Gil: *Weeps silently.*

Erin: *Keeps snip-snip-snipping. Her eye twitches. She is blind to everything except the giant, sneering, uneven haircut in front of her.*

_____

Furthermore, this neurosis has gone ahead and extended itself to everything I see today, as evidenced by the fact that I am sitting here on my parents’ front porch trying to write my thesis and all I can think about is how much I’d like to take some giant scissors to the uneven patches of grass on their lawn.

I’d snip those bits there… and those there…

And those ones over there…

Me (in reference to my continued frustration with trying to write my thesis): “It’s kind of like giving birth… except it’s the kind of giving birth where you’re afraid it might turn out to be an alien.”

*Pause*

Gil: “I’m an alien.”

“What?”

“All of my children will be lizards.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. Years from now when you have lizard babies you’ll remember this conversation.”

“To dream about losing a tooth represents man’s innermost worries — concerns about dying, aging, weakness, destitution and loneliness.”

- dreamforth.com’s dictionary entry for “toothless”

… In that case, I suppose dreaming about losing multiple teeth means that you are well nigh dead from worry?

This is my new recurring nightmare. I actually dreamt it twice last night, both times totally convinced that it was real—that this time my teeth really were falling out and we wouldn’t be able to get them back in. These dreams usually include a rushed trip to the emergency room, or the emergency dentist (I’m not sure if emergency dentists really exist), or the emergency something.

Now, to be fair, last night was also the first night that I had worn my retainers (which are supposed to be worn every few nights) in a couple of weeks. So it seems reasonable to infer that the aching mouth I woke up with this morning could have had more to do with those dreams than “concerns about dying, aging, and weakness.” But the dark streak in me finds that interpretation appropriate nonetheless.

How about you? Have you ever had a teeth falling out dream? Did you derive any meaning from it?

_______

Just for fun, two songs about teeth:

Happy Monday!

I kicked and I screamed.

I plugged my ears and hollered at the top of my lungs.

But sooner or later, you have to give up…

… and admit that you are getting a cold.

*sigh *

(WARNING: This post contains a picture that might make you throw up a little bit in your mouth.)

… I will go the extra mile. I will throw myself into the effort of getting that perfect shot.

Sometimes more literally than others.

It’s funny how, when one is so focused on capturing the perfect shot of the bride and groom leaving the building, one can completely miss the existence of a step down from the sidewalk to the driveway.

It’s also funny how, when such a moment of neglect occurs, the sidewalk can decide to take a chunk out of one’s knee as a keepsake.

See? It’s pretty:

I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want to see that. But you know what? I didn’t really want to fall down those steps and rip my black pants that I payed $26.50 for at Old Navy. I know exactly how much I paid for them because the receipt for them is still sitting on my desk—because I bought them last week.

But, as I told all of the concerned onlookers at the time of the incident, at least my camera was fine. As long as my camera was alright, I was alright.

In case you haven’t been keeping track, I am developing quite a knack for falling down while carrying expensive equipment. And you’ll notice—none of the equipment has been damaged YET. So, to anyone out there who might have been thinking about lending me their expensive camera equipment: BE ENCOURAGED. I will die before it will.

But if you’re thinking about lending me pants? Um… Not so much.

P.S. I should mention the fact that this wound was acquired at the amazing Friday the 13th wedding of two dear acquaintances who are some of the most truly awesome people I know. So it was for a good cause.