This morning, I got an email alerting me to an ebay auction. I have it set up to notify me whenever the name Zuckert pops up, because it's usually my father, though occasionally it's Eugene Zuckert who was secretary of the Air Force in the 60's. But this time it was a picture of this fellow Adam Zuckert, who is a drummer in a punk band.

I always figure that anyone with the name Zuckert is related to me, because it's awfully uncommon in the U.S. You can't walk down a street without tripping over a Zucker or a Zuckerman, but Zuckerts are rare indeed. So I have decided that this Adam is my cousin. Hey, could be as easily as not, I don't know any of my family!

I finally went to the dentist yesterday, the dentist that I will have to damn well pay now, since we changed from our wonderful old insurance where I never had to pay for a single thing ever to our rotten new insurance where it's going to cost me $200 to get my crown, but I love my dentist and will not go elsewhere, even if I do have to shell out.

This is the dentist who, when root-canaling me, caused me so little pain that I was falling asleep in the chair with boredom. He must have been saving it all for yesterday.

He glued my old crown back in, then put in a post and filling in preparation for my new crown, and when it was over, I said to him:

"Okay, you used the foul-tasting cement, you drilled my tooth so deep that the burning smell coming from my mouth was almost overwhelming, you soaked me with water, and you stabbed my tongue with the drill!"
"Don't forget when I choked you so that you couldn't breath!"
"O yeah, and you pulled my hair! This was the full-service treatment, I guess."

Or maybe it was my new, bad insurance!

Honestly, the worst thing was the tongue-stabbing, which still totally hurts. If I ever wanted to pierce my tongue, I'd have gone right off that idea. Except that I didn't want to, so it was just pain for nothing. Between the soreness of my teeth and the poked tongue, I have eaten nothing but soup. Should go well at WW this week!

Lenten entries missed:

Jessie was a whirlwind of activity, (no great big shock there), condemned a woman to hell, realized that she's, well, not to put too fine a point on it, bitchy, bought a new bike, and headed off a children's book emergency with her quick thinking. Beth bought a bike, too. Is this the true meaning of Lent, everyone buying a bike the moment my back is turned?

And the real problem with reading that much Jessie all in a row is that it makes me realize how much I wish we lived closer together, because she never comes to NY, and even though I went to Boston like fifty times last year, it was always at the same time as her sister's wedding or whatever, and we never see each other ever ever ever. And it's not fair! And it makes me sad!

There, you think that'll make her come to NY to visit me?

Today's horoscope:
A family discussion proves enlightening and helpful. Ideas about appropriate behavior are modified to be more realistic.

One year ago today:
"Where's youse fucking cheese?"

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Last Updated Wed 3 April 00:40:09 2002