Sock Star

I have hitherto been very remiss in updating this blog o' mine.  Where do I even begin?  I recovered quite nicely from the dental torture of last week and had a fabulous weekend filled with fabulous people.

Friday, I played with guns.  I was surprised to find myself tense and jumpy when we first got started.  I handled weapons (well, *a* weapon) in the military, but that was many (many) (many) moons ago.  After shooting a dozen or so rounds with the Sig Sauer 9MM pistol, I decided it wasn't the hobby for me and was content to watch everyone else ... until Sean convinced me to try a different gun.

Holy Thunderous .357 Magnum, Batman!

That thing was intense.  And loud, so very loud.  I felt like a sock star.  A gun-wielding, awkward, giggly rock star.  (For those nit-picky grammarians out there (*cough* Kristy *cough*) I do realize I just called myself a "sock star", but given one of my, um, more unique traits, I though it was apropos.)

My creative attempt for the day was to make a smiley face on my target (what else would I make?).  My accuracy is to be envied by gun enthusiasts everywhere.

Happy, happy, happy.

What do you mean you can't see it?  Seriously?  It's so obvious, but here, I'll help you out...

Just play along.

Once again, three cheers for Meredith (for being born) and Sean (for organizing and making bulls eye cupcakes).

Feed Me!

I went to the see the dentist this morning.  I didn't enjoy it.  In fact, I feel pretty strongly that I am deserving of a cupcake after facing the trauma, horror and injustice of time spent in the Chair of Doom.  Cupcakes make everything shiny and full of rainbows again.  Sometimes there are unicorns.  Who fart glitter.

This is what a fairly typical dentist's office looks like:

Sterile, but unoffensive.

And this is what I imagine when I step into the building:

Dude, can I at least get some Nitrous first?

Sprinkles in Georgetown.  Red Velvet cupcake.  I want to go to there.

P.S.  My dentist is not using proper chainsaw form or technique.  And he has forearms of steel.
P.P.S.  I wasn't actually dressed like a slightly peppier version of Freddy Krueger... though I am wearing a sweater with stripes and I am exactly that pale.

So This is Happening...

38 days and counting.