:: return of light: GUEST TBT to 1995: "I Want To Cry, But That Would Probably Hurt, Too."

Sure, sure, laughing at my middle school angst is all fine and good. But you know what's even better? Laughing at someone ELSE'S angst!

Hooray for guest posts!!

This yearbook pic is from before the incident discussed in today's throwback,
but it's hard not to hate her for being so pretty during a time in life that's
supposed to be reserved for looking awkward as hell.

I've known Melissa (the writer behind MichiforniaGirl) since our drama-filled tween days. And they were actually literally drama-filled, since we were both in theater. We even ended up in a SUPER EXCLUSIVE high school play together - super exclusive since there were only eight or so students in the cast, so, EXCLUSIVE!!1!!...even though probably only like a dozen kids auditioned.

Everyone knows that we theater geeks have a knack for turning up the (melo)drama. See for yourself in this painful diary entry, excerpted from Melissa's awesome journal that was adorned with a picture of a (pensive) cat and meticulously labeled "Diary 15: February, '95 - March, '95."

Our protagonist was thirteen when the following events took place:

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March 7, 1995
PART 1 - Spacers

Yesterday, I got my spacers on. Immediately after I got them on, they did not hurt at ALL. I was FINE. Afterward, Mom took me out for pizza -- no problem.

Then I woke up this morning and I was like, "Shit!" I couldn't even close my back teeth together. I still can't! I ate virtually NO breakfast, which totally sucked, since I was soooo hungry. I DID take Tylenol, though. After that wore off, I found out just how limited my mouth options were...I couldn't swallow, talk, or God FORBID -- chew -- without a searing pain shooting through my mouth. At lunch, I took half the lunch I usually take, and was able to EAT half of THAT. It took me 15 minutes (NO EXAGGERATION) to eat one fruit-roll-up! I took tiny bites of my sandwich, and was able only to suck them until they were small enough to swallow. Now my tongue is raw, my teeth KILL, and my poor tummy is basically empty.

P.S. My teeth STILL hurt so much I can scarcely BREATHE. I cannot put my teeth together or even TOUCH certain teeth. And as for brushing, well, you can just about forget about it. And chewing! Oh, how I long to bite down -- hard -- on a pretzel or chip ladened with gooey cheese.

P.P.S. It's so contradictory -- the orthodontist said to eat soft foods -- but not to eat GOOEY, chewy foods, either. Aaaaaaa! I want to cry, but that would probably hurt, too.

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Doesn't this transport you right back to the day after you got your braces on?! And every time you got them tightened? My teeth totally hurt just thinking about it. (Or should I say, they TOTALLY HURT just thinking about it.) Can I just recap my favorite lines from this entry?

:: "...I found out just how limited my mouth options were..." Your mouth options?!

:: "It took me 15 minutes to eat one fruit-roll-up!" The horror.

:: "...my poor tummy is basically empty." Your poor, poor tummy, Melissa.

:: "Oh, how I long to bite down -- hard -- on a pretzel or chip ladened with gooey cheese." Hashtag teenage longing, hashtag teen sorrows, hashtag first-world problems.

:: "I want to cry, but that would probably hurt, too." This line could've been lifted straight out of my own purple journal. It just...really encapsulates the overall experience of teen angst, doesn't it? Too funny!

...BUT WAIT! That's not all!! Much like the relentless agony of orthodontia, the hilarity doesn't end there:

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March 10, 1995

PART II - Braces

Some Friday. Yuck. Getting my braces on was the worst thing I've ever had to endure in my LIFE. A couple hours? Um, no. More like 4 hours, no joke.

Getting my brackets on weren't so bad. The worst part about that was the taste of the adhesive. Yuck!

Then came the metal bands. They're kind of like spacers, but they're metal (duh) not rubber. I got four of them -- but not before an hour and 45 minutes of grueling pain. They'd shove one band onto a tooth; pinch it, hack at it, press it, pick it, PUSH it, scrape it, and basically kill it. The whole procedure of fitting one band took approximately 7 minutes -- only for the orthodontist to check his work with a mirror, say, "Oh, this one doesn't fit," rip it out, and start ALL OVER again.

At dinnertime, they didn't hurt just yet, but I felt like I was eating with rocks on each of my teeth. The brackets kept banging together when I chewed -- so I just gave up and had soup.

Now, I look in the mirror and see an ugly, unattractive girl with swollen lips and silver teeth. Yuck. I hope that technology advances quite a bit by the next generation so my children don't have to go through this.

Love and Hugs,

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I'm not gonna lie, that spot-on description of getting braces put on made my mouth ache in remembrance. Solidarity, Teenage Melissa. My favorite line in Part II, though, is when she says, "I hope that technology advances quite a bit by the next generation so my children don't have to go through this."