Twenty-one days ago, I woke up very early to see my orthodontist. After filling out some paperwork, I killed some time in the waiting room with my camera phone.
I was led into the torture chamber where a bunch of nice assistants prepped me for my impending doom. I was wearing a 40s-era cardigan from my grandmother, so one of the assistants loaned me a smock.
They reclined my chair and stuck a bunch of junk in my mouth to keep it open. My gag reflex didn’t like this, so I don’t know why I look somewhat happy in this picture.
After what seemed like 100 years, they finally got the bottom row in. It hurt like hell, so here I am, simultaneously Brakkin’ out while maintaining the genuine afflicted look of a wounded animal. “How could you do this to me?”
They put the top ones on and I went straight to Starbucks to reward myself with a frapuccino. I don’t know what I was thinking when I decided to do this. My teeth weren’t awesome, but they weren’t bad. I thought the braces would at least make me look cute in a little-girlish way, but instead I just looked like I had a lot of gunk in my mouth. Also, while it’s fun to feed the fetish, it would be nice to be taken seriously during the other 23 hours of the day when I’m not having sex. It’s kinda silly, but I made a real effort not to show teeth when I smiled.
Seriously, I look and feel like a fucking teenager now. There are many facets to this behavior, but the braces sure aren’t helping. It’s kind of sad knowing that for at least the next year, my milkshake will no longer bring all the boys to the yard. There will be no teaching, and therefore, I will not have to charge.
After about a week and a half, I decided to seize the day. I wore braids, a cute outfit, and a giant brace-face smile. “Hi, I’m Kat, and I’m 12 years old… like it.”
Later that day I found a feather and stuck it in my hair so I looked like some kind of cracked-out child of Pocahontas. When I met my friends for dinner that night, they seemed more amused than surprised. I got a bunch of you-look-really-young comments, and then the waitress carded me. Just me. I looked at her with really wide eyes and asked, “Why?” Luckily she had a sense of humor.
Only 344 more days to go…
Miss Edukat says:
Brace Face! Metal Mouth! Tin Grin. Maybe you can make wearing braces hip.Well, I guess you could call them your grill.
April 21, 2006, 10:51 pmSorry, I had mine for two years in high school. I truely have empathy. When I had mine, I woke up one morning to find a band twisted up on my lower braces. It was like having ones mouth wired shut.
Anonymous says:
Hey this is your sister…are you fucking nuts?!?!? I went through years of bloody hell (literally) with those goddam braces and you CHOSE to have them put on? I hope you have one hell of a smile next time I see you. How’s the new job going?
April 30, 2006, 12:39 amfelicia says:
maybe it’s the bad resolution of a camera phone, but your teeth look fine to me?
May 1, 2006, 3:16 pmMichelle says:
It’s funny because It’s true. I’m 28 and braced. I hope to get these stupid things off by the end of summer, but that remains to be seen. Everyone tells me I look like a teenager too. Anyway, thanks for the laugh (in which I’m painfully laughing with you).
June 1, 2006, 5:11 pm