tavie.com

Until last fall, when my father retired and we were no longer covered by his dental plan, I had been going to the same dentist since I was seven. His office, in Brooklyn (above a candy shop!) had a plush, naturally-lit waiting room full of the latest magazines, a water cooler full of Poland Spring and a television with HBO, later replaced by digital cable with all the movie channels. There were private rooms covered with posters and racks of dental hygiene brochures, the latest, comfiest dental chairs, and digital cable in every room. Dr Ruthenberg is a pleasant, low-key guy who shares my parents' love of travel but tended to keep small talk to a minimum. It was the dental office from heaven. At the end of the visit, there was always a free toothbrush. The good kind with the tilted head.

Yesterday I went to my new dentist on the Upper East Side. It's up a flight of stairs, stuffed in next to a realty office, with a cramped, windowless waiting room consisting of vinyl-covered benches and a stack of old magazines that looked ready to be taken to the dumpster. I was shown immediately into what looked like a large warehouse space that had been divided with low-walled, doorless cubicles. Everything was covered with dingy whitewash, and there was equipment in labeled Tupperware sitting out on the counters. There was a radio blasting lite music.

The dentist-- a brash, in-your-face New Yawkuh type who looks a grey-haired Emeril Lagasse ("BAM! No cavities!")-- took my x-rays himself. He pronounced my name "OctAHvia" and I was glad when he switched over to calling me "Princess" (also, incidentally, his nickname for his receptionist and someone whom I assume was an hygienist, also floating around.) He was a very nice man, even if he did make the common mistake of confusing anthropology with archaeology. ("Been on any digs yet?" How I loathe small talk. I was so nervous about it the night before. Not the procedure, but the small talk. I hate meeting new people hate meeting new hate hate hate meeting new people.)

I stared at the old-looking (if clean) equipment, ~~my gaze lingering on~~ (no no I'm not getting all writerly) especially the pipe that spits water into the spit-sink, 'cause I could swear it was rusty. No matter because after prodding and poking and taking x-ray after x-ray and having the other dentist come in and examine me as well, he told me there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. Not even decay. He was troubled with the puzzle of my pain (which had and has gone away, even the throbbing). He told me he was certain I wasn't crazy and that he wanted to see me the second I felt pain, any at all-- not even to make an appointment, just to come in. It's a short bus ride from school, so I guess I will at that. But I miss the HBO.

After that I went to the horror-movie fest at Kate's house with Kate and Andrew. It was much fun, featuring a cameo appearance by erin, three terrible movies (who, who, who told us that Trilogy of Terror was scary? It was funny, sure... but scary?) and one reallly great, really terrifying movie: Jacob's Ladder, the scariest movie I've ever seen, including The Ring. I'm still traumatized by it. Its vision of hell matched mine perfectly. Everything that terrifies me was present. Oh, my, was I haunted this morning trying to fall asleep. But who did Kyle Gass play in it? I saw his name in the credits, but I don't remember him.

Oh, yeah: yesterday I saw Todd Barry on the street at two different locations, hours apart. It was very Halloween-y, as he scares me.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:14 PM | shower me with attention

Friday, October 31, 2003

1. Holly Happoween.

2. Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. Mom stop reading my blog.

3. I should go to the dentist now.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:08 PM | shower me with attention

HURRY BOY SHE'S WAITING THERE FOR YOU!!!

I bless the rains down in A-a-a-frica
I bless the rains down in A-a-a-frica

Gonna take some time to do the things we never ha-a-a-a-a-a-ad!

It's that time of the night.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:17 AM | shower me with attention

This is old, but I still find it amusing.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:04 AM | shower me with attention

I'M NOT READING ANYTHING

I'M NOT READING ANYTHING

I'M NOT READING ANYTHING

PLEASE GOD SEND ME SOMETHING TO READ

I read the introduction to The Second Sex but I abandoned it just like I abandoned Skinny Legs and All just like I abandoned Frankenstein just like I abandoned The Blind Assassin just like I abandoned The Return of the King just like I abandoned the 9th Lemony Snicket just like I abandoned The Golden Compass (TWICE) just like I abandoned The Partly-Cloudy Patriot just like I abandoned The Tipping Point. That's, holy mother of god, that's EIGHT BOOKS IN A ROW I haven't been able to keep with.

You don't understand, you don't understand-- I am not an abandoner of books. Even when something starts out slow for me, or gets to the middle slow, or is in any way slow, I make myself stick it out. (Remember me slogging through The Fellowship of the Ring? I bitched about it every other blog post, but I got through it.) I like to read cover to cover, never skipping, and I read religiously, and I'm restless if I'm not in the middle of at least two books and have been since I learned how to read 21 years ago. So how is it that I can lose interest in eight books in a row? And they're all books I've wanted to read for a long while, or at least found interesting when they were given to me.

You know that commerical about the little rock who's sad because he's lost interest in the things he used to love?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:31 AM | shower me with attention

Thursday, October 30, 2003

My most frequent dream subject is Disney World. I am either on my way to, or at Disney World in the majority of my dreams. Last night was a good one; we actually made it to Epcot. (If I don't make it to Epcot in the dreams, it means I'm anxious about something.)

Last night I had two separate Disney World dreams. In the first, Dr Matt and his school chums met me at Epcot, where I handed out a variety of handmade mittens and gloves in a variety of colours.

In the second, she who has been uploading to my webspace behind my back and I were getting ready to go swimming on one of the man-made beaches (the Floridian, I think?) but I couldn't find my bathing suit, despite the fact that my mother had literally packed every single item of clothing in the house for the trip. Even the old things sitting around in garbage bags waiting to be taken to the thrift store. The whole dream was me digging through garbage bags looking for a swimsuit. Maybe that one was an anxiety dream.

By the way, you nagging naggety naggers: my tooth is fine-- not numb, it just doesn't particularly hurt and the gum isn't sore anymore, and the earache has gone away. I will explain the situation to my new dentist tomorrow when I go to my appointment, but rest assured, I am not going to die before then.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:55 PM | shower me with attention

Wednesday, October 29, 2003

I think the best word i-word to describe me at this point is innocuous.

Which isn't terrible, but I'd prefer intriguing. Even infamous.

i-words that describe me:

innocuous
innocent
inconsequential
imperfect
imbalanced
inane
inadequate
idealistic
ignorant

i-words that I'm shooting for:

interesting
intriguing
insightful
impressive
illustrious
imaginative
Iberian

Ha ha, just kidding with that last one. I don't particularly wish to be an inhabitant of ancient Transcaucasia. But it's a good i-word, innit?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:07 PM | shower me with attention

Today I:

went to music class.

skipped Latin class.

saw Rosemary's Baby for the first time ever. It was great, but I was annoyed by Mia Farrow for the first time ever. (Previously: indifferent to.)

started eating properly again.

finished making the felted slippers with the last skein of Kool-Aid yarn. They are my masterpiece, the finest thing I have ever knitted. The yarn came out striped, just by accident-- I'm in awe. I did that. Dark reds (Cherry Blast), pinks (Strawberry) and pale greens (Lime). Not a mistake, not a dropped stitch. Then I felted them by hand in the sink. They're drying now. I'm gonna give them to Tante Joan for her birthday. She turns 50 on Monday. We're having a party-brunch for her on Sunday, a surprise party with all her friends. Except for one friend who we can't track down because no one seems to know anything about her except that she lives in Pound Ridge and has a son in a white hip-hop group called Bad Ronald. (So if you know anyone that fits that description, give me a call.) Anyway, I hope Tante Joan likes the slippers. I'm gonna ask her to take a picture of them for me. They're just too pretty.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:33 AM | shower me with attention

Tuesday, October 28, 2003

Earache earache eeeeearache ow ow ow ow earache!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:59 AM | shower me with attention

Monday, October 27, 2003

I am in love with Jane Goodall. Not in a sexual way. I simply love her a lot and I wish we were friends. This movie was on HBO today and she spellbinded me.

Today I slept through my anthro class. Then I woke up and ate a lot of crackers. So what. I'm going to my art class in twenty minutes, so that ought to be good enough.

Yesterday at Mint Manor I decided I needed to carve a pumpkin. But I decided it pretty late in the day and ony one place was open, and I only had five dollars (of Gina's money) on me, and the icky pumpkins at Jim Dandy's were way over-priced. Then we (Erin and Stephanie and me) walked down the road to a florist that had pumpkins I could afford, but they weren't open. So we took the long route home and decided to nab a pumpkin off the porch of someone with a Republican sign in their lawn. We didn't find a Republican that wasn't home, but we found someone with no visible political affiliations and a slightly rotten pumpkin on their porch, so Erin went and grabbed it and left the five dollars in their flowerpot. It was more than the pumpkin was worth, anyway.

Then we took it home and carved it. I used the Classic Jack-O-Lantern Face my dad has been carving my whole life. We put it on the porch and the second Gina lit it, Stephanie went tumbling down the stairs and scraped up her knee and ankle badly. So I'm pretty sure that by lighting Jack, Gina awoke an evil spirit. With a lopsided grin.

I haven't been returning phone calls or emails or engaging in anything lately except self-destruction, so I hope my friends aren't too mad.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:31 PM | shower me with attention

Sunday, October 26, 2003

I made the most amazing pair of slippers from the third skein of Kool-Aid yarn. Oh man. You should see them. And it only took me a couple of hours. These are definitely the Official Christmas Gift of 2003.

I'm gonna use the last skein of Kool-Aid on another pair and then sell my body to buy more wool.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:17 PM | shower me with attention

But yield, those who will, to their separation,
my object in living is to unite
my avocation and my vocation
as my two eyes make one in sight.

For only when love and need are one
and the work is play for mortal stakes
is the deed ever really done
for Heaven and The Future's sakes.

Robert Frost

What fires me
I'm trying to find
amid well-intentioned
nonsense laced, in kind,
with rarely-mentioned
flashes that lend
hope that some admire
whatever in me I intend
with which to stir a fire.
Caffeine-Dependent Loser

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:12 AM | shower me with attention

I am a pooper of parties. :(

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:08 AM | shower me with attention