> tapioca world tour

Do you want the good news first or the bad news first?

Ok. Here’s the bad news:
- this blog has moved.

Now for the good news:
- I bought a new site! It’s tapioca.tv
- All posts from this blog have been successfully imported into the new blog!
- The new blog isn’t going to be a just a blog — it’s going to be a VIDEO BLOG!

Clearly, I’m excited about all this. Everything is going to get very exciting from here on in. Stay tuned! And please update your bookmarks!

All the love,
A.

All the internet stars appear in this freakin ridiculously awesome video put out by savetheinternet.com. Watch it NOW!

My experiments with audio and photo blogging have yielded tapioca mobile tour, which is comprised solely of mobile AV posts.

AWESOME.

I’m still trying to figure out if I’ll be able to cross-post to this blog, much like my video blog, tapioca visual tour. We shall see.

So I’m going to half of Boston’s PodCamp, an unconference for podcasters or podcast enthusiasts. It’s on September 9 & 10 at BHCC, though I’ll be spending one of those days at a wedding.

Interested parties should sign up. It’s free.

We drove down to the park at JFK last night and played Off-Road Tennis for a while before the bugs attacked. The courts were too full of unrelenting faux-athletes (”I guess this is where all the white people go,” DD said), and so we took to the grass, standing 100 feet apart and whacking those pink balls across a field until we could no longer see our rackets. The moon was a huge, full cookie on the horizon, and its reflection on the dirty water of Carson beach made me convinced that, if I didn’t already live around South Boston, I would move there promptly.

In tech news, does anyone want to pay me $2200 for my BRAND NEW MacBook Pro with extra apps and 3-year AppleCare? Because I don’t want it. I hate Apple. I need a desktop instead. I will not go into further details, suffice it to say that Apple can eat it. Let me know if you want my laptop.

What an odd time. Beautiful weather, though.

Perfect day, great weather and a sunburn to show for it. After bacon-egg-&-cheese sandwiches, we went biking for hours — through South Boston, all around Castle Island and the beach, then downtown, the financial district, the Common, the south end, back to Dorchester. I love humanity, and there was so much of it at Castle Island: kids with adults, old people with other old people, families from all over the world, pets, babies, fishing poles, rollerblades. No frills. This is not the snooty Cambridge crowd: these are working people with cut-offs and used Toyotas and melting soft serve and half-smoked cigarettes, 14-year-olds with braces serving french fries. Biting flies. I loved it.

We also saw Little Miss Sunshine later on, which I totally didn’t expect to be as funny as it was. But it was…even though it follows in the currently hip theme of “ambiguous time period/70s overtones/an ecclectic collection of people experience life together while indie music (Sufjan, in this case) plays in the background”. Still, go see it. Everyone laughed out loud through most of the film.

In other news, there’s little other news. I’m still working on my watercolor interpretation of our gorgeous $10 orchids. We’re going swimming in a lake tomorrow, then to an 80-year-old’s birthday party. I really couldn’t ask for more. I absolutely love the summer.

So they popped off the bracket of my FIC (formerly impacted canine, now fully down) and recemented it in a higher position today (which involved that horrible contraption that pries your lips open to an embarrassing degree, and a spit-sucker, and tons of skinny intruments making odd, mechanical sounds). The tooth is minorly tilted to one side, and has been edging back up into the gums in recent weeks, especially since I forfeited the elastics, deciding that they (a) hurt, and (b) weren’t very effective. But once they attached the wire to the tooth today, it began coming down to where it should have been all along. Next month, they’ll put my front teeth in a heavy metal wire to push everything into final position.

“This is the home stretch,” Doc reminded me, using the same athletic-related terminology as last month. “We might be all done by December.”

December? That’s way longer than the 12-14 months initially predicted, and longer than the 18 months he reassessed as my revised treatment time. I reminded him of this.

“What? No way. It hasn’t been that long.”
“No, really,” I said. “December will make it 20 months.”
“No!” Then he checked the computer to verfiy for himself. “Oh, my. You’re right,” he sighed. “December will be 20 months. Dammit, I want everyone to be done in 18 months. I wanted you to be done in 18 months. I’m gonna have to do something about that.”
“Well then,” I said, “I look forward to October, when you take these off.”

In truth, part of me is actually sad. However masochistic it sounds, I’ve gotten used to going to the orthodontist, getting harassed by the doctor and well accomodated by his staff of demure Brazilian assistants. What happens when it ends? This must be how athletes feel after the final game. Except, instead of a game, it’s been six grand worth of oral torture and aesthetic readjustments. At least you can all visit me on the ortho’s website after it’s over, since my featured “case study” will appear online when the braces come off. Why? Because I am a faulous dental success, people.