Retainer.

Today I was filling out paperwork and I wrote down the date, and it struck a cord. July 10th. This date is significant, I thought to myself. July 10th...The tenth of July...7/10/08...What is it?

And then it hit me. Today is a special day. Today...is...

THE EIGHTH ANNIVERSARY OF THE REMOVAL OF MY BRACES.

No, really. That's what it is. I must have been even more jazzed to get those suckers removed than I thought. 

Anyway, this might not be the best segue in the world, but This Just In: Los Angeles is populated by lunatics. Some of you might be saying, "But Danielle, you're kind of nuts too..." NO. Not L.A. nuts. L.A. nuts is a whole 'nother ballgame. As if everyone here weren't whacked out enough before, now, with the advent of a law forbidding one to talk on their cell phone while driving, they're all running around with bluetooth headsets strapped to their ears looking like cyborgs and talking to no one.

I had a little scare today, because I've always maintained that as long as I can recognize that these people are insane, then that means I've still retained (hah, retained. Like retainer. Like the retainers that I still wear, to this day, 8 years after I got my braces removed. Anyway) a shred of Eastern sanity. The scare happened while I was running errands. I was in and out of my car, turning the douchetooth earpiece on and off so that if I was in the store, I could answer my phone like a normal person. I contemplated for a second, one second, wearing the douchetooth outside of my car, just for the sake of convenience.

I was horrified with myself. Absolutely horrified. Bluetooths are toolish enough inside of a car where they belong, to think that I would even consider joining the ranks of those who march around town with them was terrifying. It was a moment of weakness and it passed. Thank God, because that would probably be the beginning of a huge downward spiral. I had a flash forward of myself, really tan and wearing sunglasses, a Laker's jersey and a Kabbalah string as I waited in line at Starbucks, talking on my bluetooth while texting on my Blackberry and carrying around some little mouse dog. Christ.

Anyhow. The point is, don't worry. 

Here's to 8 years with a fully aligned bite!