Well my tooth is gone. Pulled. There is a gap in my grin. Relatively unnoticeable, but still there. And I am extremely paranoid that I am going to suck out the blood clot accidentally.

When the tooth was out of my head the dentist and his assistant stood there exclaiming at the size of my root canals. Apparently I have abnormally small root canals. “No wonder we couldn’t do the root canal yesterday,” they said.

Today I sneezed and my chin hit my knee and started hurting like crazy again. Who does that?

Every day my life seems to get more complicated and confusing. No, I haven’t been feeling sick again, (THANK GOD) and there is no relationship drama in my life, either of the friendship type or the special friend type. The drama is this: I don’t know where I’m gonna end up. So ever since my trip to Oregon in August there has been a possibility of me moving back home. I’m no longer allergic to helminthosporium, after all. However, I’m not sure I want to go back. Living in Colorado I am doing things I would have been far too scared to do living at home. Like finding community theater and getting involved. Or going to the dentist all by myself.

I thought, maybe if I can find a job I’ll be able to stay. But I haven’t found a job yet. I have other things to occupy my time, like schoolwork and Annie, but they won’t last forever.

So the new twist in the plot is that my  landlord wants to sell my house. Sell it! So what does that mean? Huh? Huh? I don’t want to move again. I don’t want people traipsing through my house to see if they want to buy it. I’ts a lose-lose situation.

Then I find videos like this on youtube and think perhaps I would like to be at home after all.

I am so confused right now.

Oh my bunnyslippers after I leaped off the bunk bed on Thursday morning everything has been happening at once. There was a dress rehearsal that night, and performances Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Sunday I also had church before the performance and a 50’s dinner after the performance. And then this morning I went to the dentist, by myself, and I was scared. Very scared.

You must know that I suffered two major calamities when my chin hit the floor that fateful morning. The first was a very bloody chin that refused to scab over until Saturday night, causing lots and lots of soaked through band-aids in the trash can. The other was my tooth, which was so tender that my daily menu went something like this:

Breakfast: Cook up some oatmeal, stick it in the blender.

Lunch: Cook up some dairy-free clam chowder, stick it in the blender.

Supper: Cook up some ramen noodles, drink them whole.

I had to go to the dentist. I just had to. And I was so incredibly scared, but of course I did it anyway because I had to.

So first off mom called the dentist, got their address, and made an appointment for me at 12:20. But then they called me and said they had an opening at 10:20 so I went early.

When they x-rayed my tooth they saw that there was a big crack in it. Basically, the dentist said, they would pull off the broken part, and then they could see if it was possible to save my tooth or not.

So my chair was tipped way back and they gave me those sunglasses to wear and I think that was about when I started crying. It was so embarrassing. I have never done any sort of medical procedure without my mom sitting right there, and here was this strange doctor poking around in my mouth and I felt this huge overwhelming feeling of fear and loneliness. So I lay there, trying to stay calm, while little rivers of tears ran into my ears.

The verdict was this: either the tooth had to come out (cheep procedure) or I had to get a root canal and crown (expensive procedure.) Basically, do I want a gap in my grin for the rest of my life?

But I wasn’t the one paying for this procedure. My parents were. So I took a break to call them. My mom wouldn’t answer her phone (she still thought I wasn’t going in until 12:20), so I called my dad. “I’ll call mom and get back to you in 10 or 15 minutes,” said Dad.

So a half hour passed and the dentist and his assistant kept checking to see If I was ready yet and Dad would not call back and I was embarrassed. Finally I called him back and he said he couldn’t get a hold of mom and finally finally finally mom called and said to just go ahead and save the tooth, even though it was expensive.

Fine. So my mouth was propped open, and the dentist began to do a root canal.

But what? Something was wrong. I’m still not exactly sure what it was but they couldn’t do the root canal after all. A specialist in Pueblo would have to do it, or else I would just have to pull the tooth.

Well the good news was that this decision did not have to be made instantly. The bad news was…

• How am I supposed to get to Pueblo?
• MORE expense???
• MORE trouble???

So they gave me the info and I went home and I still don’t know what I’m gonna do cause I still haven’t talked to my parents cause my cell phone died.

I know Annie or the 50’s dinner would have been a more exciting topic but right now the tooth is weighing heavily on my mind.

Everything made sense until my chin hit the floor. Somehow the beeping indicated that a lady needed something from me, so all I had to do was hop out of bed, help her, and then hop back into bed.

But then my chin shot forward and hit the floor with a bone jarring thud. I looked around, slightly dazed, and realized that I was not in dreamland, there was no mysterious lady needing my help, and I had just hopped off of the top bunk when someone else’s alarm clock went off.

I was spending the night and Knepps, because all the parents and big kids were gone. It was 5:30 in the morning. Everyone was asleep but me. As I turned off the alarm clock and prepared to climb back into bed, I realized that my hand was wet.

Blood? Perhaps I scraped my chin up a bit. I went into the bathroom, turned on the light, and saw that my whole chin was bloody.

Nice. I got a washcloth and tried to wash it, but most of it wouldn’t come off. That’s when I realized that there was roughly a half inch squarish circlish patch of skin missing from my chin.

That’s when I started bawling and called my mom.

This happened not last night, but the night before. It is a bit improved by now, but I still had to stick my cereal and soy milk in the blender this morning and drink it. And the wound is closing. What originally looked like a patch of skin missing is now looking like a half inch cut, that got scraped way open.

I also have a bruise on my knee so I think I must have sort of landed on my chin and knees. But I was so out of it it’s hard to know.

Opening night of Annie is tonight! Yay!

And I missed my Thursday special. Oops! You have to forgive me though, my thoughts were consumed with hurriedly cleaning my house so that my landlord could show it to the real estate lady, trying to get a day’s worth of schoolwork in, blending up food, caring for my poor chin, and the last dress rehearsal. So stay tuned for next Thursday!

Ok, before I begin, I’d like to explain that since I was a blogger before this website came into existance, my original blog always seems to get first priority when I feel like blogging, leaving this one in sheer neglect. I am trying out a new method now, copying and pasting all my entries over to this blog even if they do not have anything whatsoever to do with my book. I may referance earlier posts, causing confusion, or I may talk about things that you won’t “get” unless you’re a Mennonite, but whatever, that’s just the way I blog. My “real” blog can be found at emilysmucker.wordpress.com

The kid in the green shirt got roped into curtain duty. So now he’ll be backstage all the time. Except when he’s on stage. Sweet.

Apparently my landlord is going to show my house to someone tomorrow. Which means I’ll have to get up early and clean. Fun fun. It also means that my landlord wants to sell my house. Even funner.

Why is it that I can never exactly remember what the positive reviews of my book have to say, but I can remember specifically every detail of criticism I’ve ever heard about my book? And even worse, I agree with them. Like, this one girl said that I kept repeating myself, especially when I talked about how I felt while I was sick. I actually laughed when I read that one, because I often think the same thing about my book. Honestly I didn’t have that much diversity in my feelings.

I just recently read two books on purity. The first was Passion and Purity, which I had to read for school. Then just the other day I got a package in the mail, and it turns out that Lorenda had sent me a book called Before you meet Prince Charming. I finished it in record time, and while those two books could spawn a whole boatload of deep thinking blog posts, I’ll focus on one subject I found amusing: dating.

Most of the time Elizabeth Elliot and Sarah Mally had very compatible views. Wait for the right guy, remain pure, etc. But when it came to the subject of dating, Sarah really had something to say on the matter, with long lists of why the world’s system of dating is wrong, how it’s much easier to get to know someone in a setting other than a date, etc. She was a little vague about what the alternative was, but she did mention courtship a few times, and it was obvious that she was one of these “courtship not dating” people. But from what I can gather, courtship, the system of dating I’m familiar with, going steady, etc, is all pretty much the same thing. Having a relationship with once specific guy, pretty much with marriage in mind, instead of going on casual dates for fun.

But in Passion and Purity, Elizabeth Elliot acted like this system of single one-time dates was the norm. Then, in one chapter, she goes off on a rant about “going steady.” She didn’t think it was fair for a guy and a girl to try to claim the other exclusively for themselves without committing themselves to getting married. It was a form of impatience, she said.

I find this kind of funny. But I think it goes to show that you can’t pin down one dating system and say, “this is the way it should always be.” Elizabeth’s own story of her and Jim’s relationship is proof of that in and of itself, I think. And both books brought up the subject of arranged marriages, and how in the days of arranged marriages the marriages lasted, and today they don’t. Why?

I started thinking of arranged marriages then. I thought, “If you had to either go out and pick a guy to marry, just pick him out without dating or anything, or let your parents do it, which would you choose?” And as much as I dislike the idea of arranged marriages, I really would have to let my parents do the picking. Which sort of put the whole thing in a new light.

Savannah made me a purse today. It’s pink.

I used to not like pink. It was too girly. Then once I asked my mom what her favorite color was and she said, “pink.” So then I thought perhaps it wasn’t too stupid to like pink and I’ve liked pink ever since.

But I used to feel sick looking at pale pink things. It was so weird. I remember talking about it with my cousin Hillary, and she said that pink made her feel sick too. But for her both bright pink and pale pink made her feel sick, while for me it was just pale pink.

This was at Jenny’s baby shower, so we’d have both been eight almost nine. Jenny had a lot of presents that came in big pink bags.

Now the end of this random post is near, and I am ready to hear you OPINIONS on one of the following three subjects:

Dating: What are your thoughts on the matter?

Arranged marriages: If you had to go pick out a guy to marry (without dating!) or let your parents do it, which would you choose?

Pink: have you ever felt sick looking at this color?

Come on folks! I’d love to hear what you think!