Archive for February, 2008

Oka—oww oww oww oww

admin February 20th, 2008

On a whim, I decided to drag my dad to the dentist with me today, since it’s been a while since I had my last dental checkup and I needed some in-fills (for the post-braces support thing, not my teeth, though I find out later that I did have some I needed to fill ><)… and I was in Campsie anyway.

So I went upstairs and waited until he was finished with his patient and then inquired about it.

In-fills: $70
Cleaning: $80

Okay, so $150, that’s not too bad actually.

But turned out I had to in-fill THREE of the supporting-braces things. That’s $210! Aww man… No cleaning, I thought, too much money already.

So he started removing the previous loose in-fills, splashed much water on me (thank you very much) and secured the new in-fills onto teeth. Put the chair up and told me to rinse.

And so, the chair went down again (an aura of “be afraid… be very afraid” that dentists give off) and proceeded hardening the in-fills with “the blue light” (they have the weirdest tools, I swear!).

Hurting after that, he asked whether or not I wanted to clean, to which I waved my hand at. I was already in pain! But dad told me to anyway because when uni starts, I wouldn’t have the time to go to the dentist. The dentist then told me it was advisable since my teeth were pretty dirty (thanks again).

So again, I decided “why not”.

It felt okay when he started with the bottom. And then I felt REAL pain. The pain before was merely just a warm-up, because THIS was REALLY bad!!! >_<

Throughout the ordeal, I had water splashing all over my face, I was flinching, curling my toes and gripping my dad’s hand (very tightly), and these were only part of the 20 minute process. My gums bleeding, bleeding and bleeding were the other part. It was THAT bad, no exaggeration.

Ah! And someone thought they went through “23 minutes in Hell” (cough cough Bill Wiesse)! Reminds me why I haven’t been to the dentist in 3 years.

And what made it worse was that the dentist kept complaining about:

  1. Me not brushing my teeth properly (I swear it isn’t that bad!)
  2. Me not coming in regularly for a cleaning
  3. Me not cutting my hair (I like it the way it is, thank you very much!)
  4. My eyesight (since I “wear such thick glasses” but “don’t worry, there’s always laser eye surgery when you reach -10.00″)
  5. The whole hour worth of fixing up my teeth totaled $290! (Ouch!)

Sigh.

What’s with paying for services who treat you like a masochist being?!

Oh well, at least my teeth are shiny now =]

Day 1: Cleaning

admin February 1st, 2008

Day 1: Friday 1st February.

I got up really really early as it’s cleaning day today (and somehow, I couldn’t sleep well last night). Went down for breakfast at 7am, greeting everyone (grandpa came to help, arrived at 6am apparently). We had our meal and packed some boxes into the car, drove Brandon off to his school and then stopped at our new place, unloading some stuff and heading inside.

Dad ordered me to do some vacuuming above all else, drove home to get the second batch of boxes. Mum went straight for the kitchen, cleaning wardrobes and everything.

After I vacuumed, I put gloves on to do some cleaning my room, namely some of the furniture already inside. Halfway through wiping, mum needed me to do a few small things for her, but heard dad’s piercing voice, asking for me. I told him to “hold on” while I quickly took off my gloves, which took a while because it was size extra small so it wouldn’t slip off while I’m cleaning dishes (original purpose of them). Then he kept telling me to be quick and I kinda snapped, telling him I WAS being as quick as possible.

Anyway, he brought a second batch of boxes and wanted me to move them with him. Outside, it started raining (thank GOD it’s not a stinking sticky hot day like in the past 3 consecutive days!). Moving the lighter boxes, we went in and out of the security door (as grandpa helped us open every time we reach the door to speed things up) around about 6 times or so.

I got upstairs and put on my gloves again, finishing off what I was cleaning earlier. Dad noted the time (9:30) and announced he was leaving for the City to get some documents back, only to rush in the door and causing another (unwelcomed) racket, saying something about his license.

Shit. I took his license last night to sign up for something and gave it back, not knowing where his wallet was. We all stayed quiet until he left, then we were muttering things like “he’s so mean” and “such bad mood”…

Sigh.
Whatever.

I got back to cleaning, working on the en-suite in my room. Wiped around the bench, drawers and stuff. All dandy. Pulling out the drawers was made me feel a bit disgusted. There was a light smell but that wasn’t it. Underneath, the ex-tenants didn’t clean it, and dirt and grime accumulated. With my trusty sponge and detergent, I scrubbed, hard. Man, they didn’t even bother throwing out their rubbish. I mean, the tenants were already pretty good and the apartment was already really clean when we arrived, but I guess my expectations have exceeded current state.

After that, grandpa and I moved bro’s table to my room because I needed a computer desk and a study table. We rearranged the study tables towards the windows so it’s more brighter where I work at later. Then we relocated the cabinet to Brandon’s room as a bed side draw.

Happy with that (and silently hoping the bed will fit where I mentally allocated), I progressed to cleaning around my room, window sills, walls and all. After that, I cleaned the wardrobe and mirror of my room (my clothes were sitting there), and then progressed to Brandon’s room to clean his built-in wardrobe.

It was already 11:30am when dad returned from the City, his documents completed and all. Then he made a slight remark about being tired. Feeling a little daring, I started my argument.

Me: You’re tired? How about me?
Dad: You only moved the lighter boxes, and I move 2 boxes every time whereas you only moved one at a time.
Me: Yeah, but did you spend 4 hours cleaning up, scrubbing this and that?

And he shutted up.

And this conversation repeated in the car unintentionally, to a greater extent.

Me: I’m starving.
Dad: You’re hungry? You only lifted a few light boxes and you’re hungry already?
Me: But I was cleaning up while you drove to the City.
Dad: You only can handle small boxes, don’t help much at all. (Note: change of topic)
Me: If I don’t help much at all, then don’t ask me to do it next time.

And he shutted up again, kinda talking to my grandpa in the front seat. Mum and I looked at each other.

Ha, how ungrateful!

Anyway, we stopped by the restaurant, ate, and grandpa walked to the train station while dad dropped me off home. I need some sleep.