So, the US stereotype of "person with bad teeth" is generally some combination of poor (for accurate reasons), drug-addicted, back-country stupid hick.

Talking to friends tonight I realized I had to BECOME a back country hick to get good dental care. I didn't have dental insurance until I moved here, two counties over from where they filmed Deliverance. (Not even a little bit kidding.)

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Well, that's perked me up some. Madison Cawthorn lost his primary, and we got in good people for the local elections for Mayor, City Council, and Board of Education.

But also it is SO GODDAMN EXPENSIVE in this FUCKING COUNTRY to take care of your stupid mouth bones even though it impacts your whole body health. And we look down on people who don't have perfect teeth so hard that even I, who knows better, am having "I am a failure" feels.

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Teeth are so fucking fraught. I've come to grips with the fact that I'll probably need implants, plural, multiple, just because half my.. over half? my family has them by a certain age, and I am approaching that age, and we just have bad teeth. It's just a thing.

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Love trying to get an emergency dental appointment in my birthday month. Love this for me.

*throws websites at QA*

*fastballs invoice at boss*

*jams pending sites into current slate of work*


I swear some days the fact that my job is to fix websites so they work for people who aren't considered in their initial creation, sometimes extremely important websites, is the only reason I don't spend all day in a blanket fort of despair and rage.

Another day, another pile of work to do that I can't do because the system is buggy. I feel like that XKCD 'Compiling' strip.

Sometimes it's the small things. When things are out of control and I feel afraid and threatened and I can't do anything about it, I clean. That, I can do. A messy kitchen, I can fix. And now I have a kitchen set up for food prep. (Plus the dehydrator's been sitting for a month.)

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The world and especially the US is a tire fire right now BUT I have cleaned the kitchen (except for the dishes) and rearranged a bunch of crap on the counter and now the dehydrator has a place where it can sit and process herbs and fruit and things.

This job would be a lot more fun if I could consistently DO my job instead of shit randomly going down at intervals.

The world is rather on fire and I confess I found myself this evening feeling very much like despair, but on the other hand I have coyote tomatoes, little seedlings, coming up from seeds that I gathered from the tomatoes I grew last year. So there's that.

I asked him after he'd finished ranting about a couple ways I could think of to have that interaction without violating HIPAA laws, and he agreed/clarified that there were ways that did not involve violating rules about patient information, but you had to be careful.

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But... yeah. Even when you also work in the hospital and you're asking about the status of a friend, the friend is not your patient, you are not asking for legit medical reasons, and there's certain questions your co-workers can't answer, I guess.

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Kitty Chandler
I was just reminded that I actually had a conversation about-- well, listened to my husband rant about-- HIPAA violations and the danger of how you ask about friends who are in your hospital when you're a health care worker. Not something I'd considered as a part of his job.

I don't suppose there's such a thing out there as a workout app that lets you just put in the names of your exercises and how many sets of how many reps you do and keeps track of them like, basically, a glorified notepad that makes charts.

I'd like to make a concerted attempt at building back my capoeira muscles specifically, but most workout apps don't play well with words like "negativa" and "raba de raira" and so on.

Burgundy is the color of hot water bottles! RED is the color of sex, and fear, and danger, and signs that say do not enter!

(I got my hair dyed today. And am a big fan of the movie Kinky Boots.)

Suddenly realized I probably shouldn't go to the Basilica to ask about historical catholic iconography in this shirt.

Me: Oh BLESS the senior dev knew exactly where to look and what to look for and it WAS a simple fix.

BFF2: And now you have taken many notes and learned a thing?

Me: YEP! Bless her, she even included a screencap of where the problem was.

BFF1: I wish to point out that every time you're swearing at a bug, it's been "oh. that was a weird fucker" when you get answers.

Me: ... so what you're saying is I'm good at my job and the brainweasels should shut it?


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The Wandering Shop is a Mastodon instance initially geared for the science fiction and fantasy community but open to anyone. We want our 'local' timeline to have the feel of a coffee shop at a good convention: tables full of friendly conversation on a wide variety of topics. We welcome everyone who wants to participate, so long as you're willing to abide by our code of conduct.