Yup, that's me posing for the paparazzi (aka my dad) before my eighth grade semi-formal. Lookin' gorgeous in my spaghetti-strap dress and white high heels. Both of which made me look slightly more gangly than I would have on a regular day... If that's even possible. And let's not forget the blue and white butterfly clips adorning the up-do that I carefully crafted in front of the bathroom mirror, right before I smeared on a hint of shimmery white eye-shadow and some clear mascara (Fancy, huh?) I had just gotten my braces a few weeks before this photo was taken, and I specifically selected silver bands to coordinate with my dress on this once-in-a-lifetime occasion.
Last week, I bit into an apple and somehow managed to break the permanent appliance that was glued to the back of my two front teeth after my braces were finally removed when I was 16. I hadn't thought about that thing one time since the day I was sent away from the orthodontist's chair with a shining braces-free smile and a bag full of bubble gum, Starburst, and other braces-breaking candy... and now, suddenly, dealing with this appliance became a full-time job.
As an adult, I struggled to find an orthodontist who would see me to make the repair. I guess you're not a priority when you aren't 12 years old and debating between pink or green rubber bands for your braces this month. I was literally to the point of calling coworkers who have teenage children and begging them to put in a good word for me at their orthodontist office. Thankfully I found an office who was willing to see me with just a 6 day wait, instead of 2 1/2 weeks - the soonest appointment I could find anywhere else. And what's even more exciting? This office has video games in the waiting room.
So today, I will be unearthing my purple glittery retainer with a star sticker cemented inside from it's home at the back of a bathroom drawer, since my new orthodontist specifically requested that I bring it to my appointment. (And I will then have to admit to the orthodontist I have not worn said retainer for quite some time). I just hope she doesn't yell at me. Or even worse, suggest a wildly expensive treatment plan to correct the damage I have done by denying my teeth the glittery support they so badly needed.
Tomorrow, I turn 27 years old. But for today, I am 13 again.