D is for Done

My good friend Brooklyn Fit Chick, wrote this fabulous post about Oprah and her up and down weight loss. I have to admit that I felt a little kinship with Oprah after reading this post, and not just because because I've lost 60 pounds in my time. I know what its like to reach a triumphant place with your body, only to lose that glorious feeling and have it tumble down into a well. I also know what it's like to sit mournfully at the edge of that well, teeth covered in braces, until one day you say to yourself, "Ok, I'm done. Let me go fetch that good feeling out." It takes work, and strategy and time, but eventually, you can see its glow coming closer and closer into your hands. And once you're holding it, you wonder how and why you ever let it go in the first place.

This is all to say, I'm done.

It's been almost a year (just three days shy!) and I'm done feeling bad--about this whole thing. I made the choice, and I can either live happily with it, or I can torture myself with it. Let me tell you, the torturing has gotten really boring.

Case in point: I had to go to a very swanky party last week, and I was expected to give a speech in front of a ton of people in the fashion industry. I have to tell you, there was nothing terrifying me more than the idea of giving this speech, being on display and wearing braces. I fretted about this for days. I was snappish with my loved ones. (I apologize!)

But mixing and mingling with the crowd, no one seemed to even notice the braces. In fact, no one even looked twice. And the models that I spoke to, who I expected to pass judgement the most, were just as sweet as they could be. Come to think of it, they probably have to deal with self scrutiny more than anyone else, as their bodies are their moneymakers, and so a few brackets don't frighten them!

My favorite quote from Anais Nin is: "The day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

Blossoming sounds pretty good right about now.

Et tu, Ugly Betty?

It was inevitable, I suppose. When ratings go south, pretty up some broads. Blow out the hair. Get a push up bra. Add some blush and gloss. And for God's sake get rid of those braces.

So yes, it's happening. Ugly Betty is getting her braces off. The Wall Street Journal says so. I can't help but feeling a little betrayed. Betty made braces part of the cultural lexicon, representing us diamonds in the rough. Those of us still in the cocoon. And I'm not ready for her to come out yet! I need some sisterhood here!

The powers that be still can't decide if the braces will be entirely off: the article tells of a rather cruel plot line where Betty finally gets them removed and two steps outside of the orthodontist's office, she trips and hits her teeth, requiring them to be put back on ASAP. (Am I evil because I'm secretly rooting for this?)

Click here for the pic. The corporate giant that is ABC won't let me embed it:

http://abc.go.com/shows/ugly-betty/photos/309274/309323

What's funny is that the prettified version of UB kinda looks like me now! Whaddya think?

Meet My Inner Mafiosi

My friend Natalie says that I have an inner Mafiosi named Vinny. He's very handy when someone tries to edge me out of a seat on the subway, or tries to shortchange me at the market. He just throws his weight and his Brooklyn accent around and everyone starts to cower. (That's the best part.) He's also very macho, weighs about 300 pounds and can withstand anything sans complaint.

Vinny is no match for braces.

I figured that I would just let the knives in my mouth make callouses so that eventually I would get used to them and not feel the pain. I scoffed at the wax you're supposed to put on the metal brackets. Shoot, Vinny is tougher than that! Vinny doesn't need no stinkin' wax! Vinny's a Brooklynite! Words like "contusion" do not frighten him!

After 3 days and a meltdown last night, Vinny put on the damn wax. I slept like a baby for the first time in days.

There was an article recently in the NY Times about a mother of three who got braces as an adult and her experience in the first few hours. It was mostly a cry for smoothies and iced tea, but this was my favorite part:

“Do my teeth look straighter yet?” I asked, moaning. I had had braces for about three hours.

This seems about right. I realize that I'm having an entirely different relationship to time, which is kind of a good thing since time has been having its way with me lately. He's been taking things too fast, so in order to preserve the sanctity of our relationship, I had to figure out how to slow things down so that our passion didn't burn out. The braces are making me chart time in a different way. But maybe having him take me on a few more dates might have been a better, less drastic idea.

Via email, I get daily notes from "The Universe" via The Adventurer's Club--little pithy thoughts to keep in mind to put some positive gas in one's tank each morning. I have to say, as I was thinking about time, this one was in my inbox today:

One of the trickiest things about life, is that, at times, it happens so slowly. Yet... if... it... happened... any... faster... you'd... already... have... everything... you... ever... wanted... without... learning... to... enjoy... the... ride. I'm pretty sure the Universe doesn't have braces, but then again, maybe it does. Who am I to say?

I've Gone and Done It Now

I realize I should have started this blog a few weeks ago, as a service to other adults with braces, but my boyfriend and I broke up, and really, that took precedence. Suffice it to say, that this is day three with the braces actually on my teeth and I'm beginning to wonder what the hell I was thinking. Yes, it was this or jaw surgery. Yes, I realize now that I was convincing my friends that I simply liked pureed soups and smoothies, and enjoyed being a vegetarian when really it was more problematic than I thought to simply chew a steak. (Think of kids who say they hate reading, when really they just can't see.)

So here I am now, 36, newly single and with braces. Which I'm supposed to wear for the next 2 years. Let the schadenfreude begin.

I think I've started this blog to relieve my friends from having to listen to me share the inevitable icky feelings that accompany something like this. They've been nothing but wonderful and supportive, but I can't wear out my welcome, since I've already tapped into them about the aforementioned breakup. I've been called "radiant" with braces (that one was pure altruism), "blinged out" (I believe that more) and the acceptable "not that bad." I went to work for the first time today, and was a bit concerned about how the braces would be received, since I work in communications and I'm having a bit of trouble speaking (not much, but enough to be aware.) A coworker kept putting his hand over his own mouth while he spoke to me and asking me if the braces hurt. Not the most encouraging sign.

I have been putting off braces for years because my former employer did not grant dental insurance, so my teeth have gone a bit out of control. I met with four orthodontists, one of whom wanted to break my jaw and reset it. (Needless to say, I decided to pass him by.) My current orthodontist said to me "I've seen a lot of teeth in 20 years, and you--are interesting. My dentist used to look at my xrays like they were porn.

Eating has always been my true passion--my great sensual joy. I could tell you where to get the best of everything in NYC. If I read about it, I went and ate it. I love food writers, but I loved forming my own opinion more. To me, they're merely culinary cartographers, charting the city for me, but I get the satisfaction of putting my own red pins on the map. When my friends came in from out-of-town, I had lists of places where we needed to go to try the best pizza (DiFara's), the best mint chocolate chip ice cream (The Chocolate Room). The best grown up cocktails and trout deviled eggs (Pegu Club).

Now, it's so uncomfortable to chew, and chewing anything takes an hour. I feel like I look like a horse gnawing on apples when eat, so I'm sticking to mushy foods, certainly in public. It's 93 degrees and I'm eating egg drop soup from the local Chinese joint because it's just easier. Everyone keeps telling me that this will change, but we shall see. Maybe that's what the blog is for--to chart the changes and shifts in my thinking about this, as my teeth do their own platetectonics.

I will say that I've found some fabulous recipes online that ease the transition. I like recipes that are quick, quick, quick. Forget Rachel Ray--30 minutes is way too long for me to wait after work. I'm going to post them in the blog--so if you have to be on a liquid diet for any sort of reason, I hope you enjoy these. Regardless of whether or not I had a goth party in my mouth, this is a great summertime recipe--Avocado Cucumber Gazpacho. I got this one from elanaspantry.com, which is lovely, and I wish I could continue making her recipes, but at least I can keep this one:

http://www.elanaspantry.com/cucumber-avocado-gazpacho/

If you've got braces and you're an adult, give a shout out. I know there are lots of us, and I'll post all the things that I find I really enjoy eating lately. I hope you will too. (Even if you don't have braces!)