The Marooned Tooth Chip Story

Hello, rare reader. It has been a very long time since I last posted something. I almost find it refreshingly unfamiliar as I am typing this. But a lot happened when I was away, and I’ve got loads to tell you. Since you’re reading this, I shall take on the thick-skinned assumption that you are actually interested. Haha.

UPDATE #1: I found a job.

UPDATE #2: It was my official commencement in July.

UPDATE #3: I’m getting braces and I’m kind of regretting it. Yes, it is all happening at the same time and I am too old for this shit indeed, thank you.

UPDATE #4: I hate that I don’t write more posts. Always have been sorry about it but I really don’t want to be anymore. You know what I mean. Or at least, I think I do.

UPDATE #5: Actually, I don’t really know who I’m talking to.

UPDATE #6: Now that I’ve written it all down, it seems like nothing much happened after all.

UPDATE #7: Now I’m wondering what have I been up to all this while. Like really. What have I been doing? Did time even pass? Where did it go? Did anything even happen?

UPDATE #8: Now I can’t even remember what I wanted to tell you.

The Legendary Cocked Eyebrow Of Awesomeness

To be honest, I feel this way about myself more often than I really should. My memory’s failing me in such a way that makes me question its existence in the first place. See I can’t even remember what my old posts were about. I vaguely recall wanting to blog about my journey from unemployed fresh grad to employed fresh grad but then I got stuck bouncing in between and I started to complain. Oh yeah, I remember complaining all right. And now that I do, I feel really bad about that. I do have a reputation for being far too long-winded for my what-I-like-to-think-is-still-kind-of-tender age because I care too much. Or perhaps I am a twat. No matter what, this is exactly why I need to write this and get it out of my system because talking to myself in my own head just doesn’t cut it anymore. My fucking head is fucking running out of goddamn fucking space.

Okay, I kid. Back to the point (if there was even one in the first place) – which I don’t remember (again) but the point is – I found a job. Actually, I’m already almost five months into this job and I don’t have an excuse for not telling you sooner. I was, after all, supposed to blog about my journey towards getting hired but I couldn’t because one, I procrastinate (you already know this) and two, most importantly, I feel like I’m still on some sort of a freaking journey that I didn’t really sign up for. Or maybe I did but I don’t remember again.

No one told me, man.

Martin had perfect reason to look so surprised throughout this particular video because the song makes absolute sense ’bout just about everything. Especially the part where he sings about nobody telling him how easy and hard it was going to be, and then he starts howling like a wolf. Very relatable.

But what was I saying? Oh yeah, I wasn’t about to blog about ‘a new beginning’ because it somehow feels like I’m still out and about wandering. And for some reason, it feels right – like how it was supposed to be. I actually write for a living now – not as one of those imaginary, dreamy, get-to-stay-at-home-all-day-and-just-write novelists – but it’s okay. I like it. And that’s about that. For now.


My graduation picture

I also officially graduated from university in July, just two days before my birthday. I’m not gonna lie; it was nice. But I kind of forgot about it until days before the actual thing. I showed up late for the ceremony too or whatever you’d call it. My parents were there and they were practically the only reason why I would even go, but they were just about as bored as I was and we all made it a point to show it. So did everyone else because that’s just the way it is.

In fact, I don’t actually remember what happened during my commencement but I recall my folks laughing at me for looking like a penguin in my graduation gown, amusedly observing cap-shaped hair on every single graduate including myself and cheering over-enthusiastically for the last recipient because that meant the end of the ceremony (finally). How do people make such a big deal out of graduation – I really don’t know. Maybe it’s just me.

If you got it, flaunt it.

And now here we are at the meat of the story – assuming that there is indeed some to go around. But before I go on, I would like to take this opportunity to apologise on behalf of humankind to every single person out there who has had braces done but got laughed at or teased for some reason that I still fail to appreciate today. Personally, I never thought much about braces. In fact, I never even thought one thing about it; I was simply oblivious to the entire thing because it didn’t happen to me and so I could not see what the fuss was all about. My sister had her teeth done but she was a teenager when she did it and she made it look so effortless. I have friends who got braces but I hardly ever noticed because nobody goes around staring at people’s teeth. And for good reason.

How’s my teeth looking?

Then, just a few months ago, I decided to get braces. Yes. It’s almost like a really desperate attempt to make myself feel young. But see, I’ve always had slight buck teeth as a kid, and my playing of the saxophone back in secondary school had kind of forced this particular front tooth into a certain awkward angle that rendered biting hard into whole apples for me literally impossible ever since. If I did so, I would probably end up leaving my tooth in the apple, so I would rather give up the apple, thank you very much.

But the point is, that tooth had never really been a problem for me because I gave it absolutely no chance to be one by ignoring its existence completely. So I had asymmetrical buck teeth – big deal. So I had an insubordinate front tooth that seemed hell bent on forming a right angle with my gums – big deal. So my teeth looks funny from the side in close-up photographs – big deal. Then I walked right straight into a glass door one day recently, and I couldn’t stop laughing at myself until when I realised that I was actually bleeding. I busted my lip with that front tooth. And that, Charlie Brown, was how it became a problem that gave me absolutely no chance to ignore anymore. If anything, it felt like a frickin’ earthquake in my mouth whenever I chewed something. My tooth was already way out of line at seventy-five degrees to hell and braces, therefore, seemed like a pretty fair arrangement.


I actually almost looked as happy in a near-to-trance-like state when I accepted my orthodontist’s challenge to get braces. I have no idea why either. And okay, so I wasn’t challenged to anything but this could be the best thing that I can make out of this entire thing until two and a half years later when the metal finally comes off. I just had no idea how much truth would come to exist in what I just said. Or typed. The point is: if only I knew. But I didn’t. I was literally clueless about what it would really take to get braces done. I was way caught up in denial, because that’s how I deal with dread. I wanted to make myself believe that metal was nothing and it would all be over soon before I know it. Therefore, no need for any fuss. But instead, I ended up being not one bit mentally prepared for what was coming.

“Before the real thing, we need to first extract four teeth,” said my orthodontist. “Okay,” I said. I actually said okay, like I wanted it to happen. Like I couldn’t wait. I was indeed in a trance, and I found no reason to doubt the doc. I really should have. I could have asked some questions at least. Like what am I going to do with four gaping holes in my mouth. How is the metal going to force the rest of my teeth to fill up the gaps? Do I really need to pull out four? Why do I think of such things only when it’s too late; only as I lie down on the dentist’s chair, ready for my teeth to be pulled?

“Are you sure you want to pull out four in one go?” asked the dentist, a petite, young lady who pronounced ‘go’ in such a way that made me wonder if she studied dentistry in the UK. It was then when I realised what I was doing. Pulling four teeth in one go meant I only had to go through the pain once, which was very good – the reason why I decided so – but it also meant that I would be experiencing the total amount of pain in one shot as opposed to breaking it up into two visits. But the dentist was already jabbing local anesthetic into my gums and all ready to start yanking. There was just one problem though.

A Marooned Tooth Chip

Apparently, I must have been taking really good care of my teeth because according to my dentist, I have really stubborn roots that wouldn’t let go of my teeth no matter how hard she tugged at them. By the time she got to the last tooth, I could tell that she was on the verge of giving up even though I was on the verge of passing out (go figure). But still, we kept it together and she continued to struggle until finally – that last tooth was out. Then, another problem.

“A small piece of this tooth is still stuck in your gums,” explained the dentist grimly. I remember plotting an escape route. “We will need to perform a surgery in order to get it out, but it is so small that I see no harm in just leaving it where it is.” I then remember nodding more vigorously than I have ever nodded in my entire life. So that tells the tale of the marooned tooth chip. And I thought that would be the worst of it, but we are always painfully wrong about such things, aren’t we?

Is this real life?

Is it? Actually, I have no idea. I’ve had someone ask me why do braces now if I’d already been living with crooked teeth for so long. Actually, I have no idea. I’ve had someone else ask me why do braces at all when my only problem’s one insubordinate front tooth. Actually, I have no idea.


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