Day of Rest

Bee and I finally got some downtime tonight. After running around like a maniac to party after party earlier this week, she finally crashed on the couch and dedicated some quality time to me.

Damn right.

Anyway, breaking news: Dee has to have braces. That's right, just a week before her London Fling comes here permanently to take residence in the US of A, she finds out she's going to be a metal mouth for a good nine months. The luck!

What's a thirty-year-old to do with braces? That shit's cool between the ages of oh, 13 and 15, but after that, no way. It's as if Dee was granted a VIP pass to Dweebville.

I'm mean. I shouldn't even talk--my bottom teeth came in all crooked, and I have this weird snaggletooth thing going whenever I get frustrated and clench my jaw.

Whatever. I'm sure Dee will look fine. But it's a good thing she already has a boyfriend--not sure how many New York men dig on the brace face.