My apostate brother Stephen made a good point in my comment box yesterday. He said he hopes that my lack of angst doesn't hinder my creative genie.
This immediately conjured up images of my creative genie with writer's block, lounging around on a red velvet couch eating Thin Mints and reading inspirational romances.
Oh dear. I gots ta get me some angst, pdq. (pretty darn quick) (that's and acronym from the 80's)
Where's my tortured soul when I need it?
But then again, I could always write cute little stories about rainbows and butterflies and unicorns.
I know a sweet story about a puppy who overcomes a sock fetish and an eating disorder to find religion and become a princess.
Or I could write little moral-of-the-story analogies. Like how good it feels to finally make a commitment to your house after living with it for a year. If you like it then why don't you put a ring on it. That's what me and Beyonce always say. But I learned a valuable life lesson while I was playing the field all year. It's hard to find a house that looks good on the outside and still has a great personality on the inside.
Oh, oh oh, here's another one: You know how when you break a tooth your tongue can't stop touching it, no matter how hard you concentrate? It just automatically darts to the empty void to feel the jagged missing piece? Over and over and over. Until it gets all raw and sore?
And then you go to the dentist to get it capped, which covers the emptiness, but takes a while to get used to because it's doesn't feel real. And it doesn't look real. And your hygienist, who also happens to be your visiting teacher, almost gags you to death while she's giving you the v.t. message from behind her Plexiglass mask?
Well, with the help of modern technology, and shorter v.t. lessons, there are other options. The dentist can now pay $136,000 for a machine that will take an exact imprint image of your empty places so he can use his mouse to draw a whole new tooth for you. Alls he has to do is stick a wedge the size of Vermont into your mouth to keep it open while he snaps the photos.
He then photo shops an exact replica of your old tooth onto a 3D computer model. Only without cavities or fillings or decay.
And then he prints it. On porcelain. With a printer made of diamonds.
And then he stretches your face and smashes your face and stretches your face some more until you think you might give birth, and then he pulls out his glue gun and BAM, sticks the new tooth inlay into your mouth. And it fits perfectly. Your tongue doesn't even have to check over and over and over because you can't even tell it's not your original tooth.
There's a moral here. There's a definite moral here.
I think God has a diamond printer.
If I don't feel like writing cute puppy stories or moral-of-the-story analogies I can always share my emails with you. I get emails from some pretty important people. In fact yesterday I got an email from Success.
Allow me to share:
Hey am success, i came across your email now when i was brousing the
internet, and you really got me intrested, My dear, i decided to contact you.
i really want to have a good friendship with you. I will be very happy,
If you can get back to me with my e-mail address so we can get to know each other
better,and i well give you my pictures and also tell you more about me
ok, maybe we can start from there,Beside i have something i want to discuse with you,
that i can write and send it to you. Have a nice day
What do you think Success wants to discuse with me?????
If you guys get tired of my emails, my creative genie can just share some linky lub. In fact, if you haven't already read Kristina P. today she is so stinkin' heelarious (as usual).
Also, remember Iwa? She was my 1st counselor in the R.S. Presidency when I lived in Laie. She is such a dang cute writer. And she has recently moved to American Samoa so it's a treat to read all about her new adventure. You can catch it here at A Wise Man Once Said.