All in the name of white teeth

It's Day 2 of the white strips fiasco, and I have to admit that it does get ever so slightly easier to take small strips of peroxide soaked Saranwrap and stick them to your teeth while gagging in front of the mirror. However, I bought the strips, I am gonna use the strips. Ragged will have whiter teeth in 2007. Mark my words.

I do feel a little odd trying to talk to Cynical while sporting them, but it's all worth it when he pretends that he can see a difference already. Sometimes all I need is someone to humor me.

I did also redeem myself last night by hitting the treadmill after dinner. We have to reorient that thing or get a television because staring at the bad paint job on the wall just isn't motivating me. However, the new OK Go CD did wonders for my mood as I trudged along.

And so we are into January, a very blah month given all of the festivities preceding it. January evenings make me want to stay inside and pretend I live in a little house in the woods, miles from any place where you can buy Crest White Strips or storebought butter cookies. I catch myself wanting to braid my hair and wear my long cumbersome flannel gown (which I never wear), and sip hot tea while gazing out the window. I want to pretend that our only job is keeping the cold outside of our warm home. I want to read by lamplight. I want to build a fire and stay up all night maintaining it while off in the distance I can hear coyotes singing to the moon. I want to be Laura Ingalls Wilder.