The teeth story

So how i lost teeth. Its a messy story. About a messy time in my life when everything was, well, messed up. I guess you should really substitute the word "messy" for "fucked", because it really was quite a fucked situation.

During Christmas break of my first year of law school I broke up with my boyfriend of 4.5 years. Its really weird, because during that break, more than half of the people i knew who came into law school with long term, long distance relationship decided to end them. Anyways, so after basically destroying the heart and possibly ruining the life of my ex,(but not really, because he actually got engaged to someone like a year later...after knowing her for less than 6 months... and as far as i have heard they are still happily married) I was in a weird place that i had not been in in a very long time. I was single. I could do what i wanted without getting someone's approval. And what did i want to do?

1. Drink. (and heavily)

2. Party. (and often)

3. Get laid. (And how!)

A few weeks after the earth crushing and emotionally draining experience of the break-up [ which im not going into too deep here. But it really was a bad situation and totally fucked me up. I felt like the biggest asshole in the universe for doing it to him, and at the same time felt horribly guilty for being so damned happy about moving on with my life. I really have never gotten into explaining the relationship i had with the "Super-ex", as i call him on here, on the old 13 x13 but i guess you can imagine what is was like to be 23 and had only really dated one person before and by breaking up with that person you were losing your boyfriend...best friend...and most of your stuff (because it was still at the house you used to live in together and he was still there and you felt bad asking for it back)...well shit, looks like i did decide to descibe it all after all. now back to my teeth], I began dating someone else.

His name was Nate and he was a year ahead of me in law school. What we had in common, besides both being in the same college, was that both of us had recently ended a serious relationship, we enjoyed heavy drinking to the point of puking/passing out, and we both wanted tons of sex. Our whole relationship involved him meeting me after class, us getting obliterated on booze, having sex, passing out, and usually eating pizza or chinese food in the morning. There are tons of Nate stories peppered throughout law school. Im actually surprised this is the first time old Natie came up. Some of the stories are pretty sexually explicit...some are kind of scary...some are just sad. He was a drunk with an anger problem (in fact the first of 3 guys ive dated who have taken anger management...although his was court ordered after he tried to beat up a professor from law school...because he was told to leave a law formal...because he wouldnt leave me alone...yeah. there are lots of stories about nate.)

Anyways, the beginning of the second semester of law school was a good time to decide to be a drunk and to date a fellow drunk. There was law games at the beginning of January ( my sport: boat racing), legal follies ( a variety show where you get drunk and then perform skits and songs) and a few pub crawls. I honestly believe i wasnt sober the whole month of January. I found a paper i wrote that January not too long ago in my apartment... its barely in the english language. Im not too surprised that i got a C-. I became a local celebrity of sorts in law school... i was that first year chick who could drink like a fish and chug a beer in seconds flat.

So now that you can imagine what i was like at that time and i have set the total scene...the story of my missing teeth. First of all, they arent totally missing...just 1 snapped off about halfway up and the other one had a giant chip taken out of it. So the dentist just built up a crown on them. You cant tell which ones they are just by looking at me, but they are the left front and left, i dunno incisor (!?!?) right next to it. But all in all, I have fake teeth and wear that honor proudly.

So after the January of non stop intoxication, Nate ( who was the guy who planned all the parties in our law college... i know how to pick em) decided to plan a pub crawl for the first weekend in February. He decided to plan a "drink a small town dry" pub-- where, as the name suggests, you take a bus to a crappy small town and find the local tavern and keep drinking until they run out of alcohol or they kick you out. Of course, before you get to the planned town, you must stop at every bar along the way and drink...and when you get back onto the bus, you must also drink. As I was the guy who was controlling the booze's hump buddy (i wouldnt call me a girlfriend, per se) i pretty much had 2 or 3 beers on the go at a time. When we arrive at a bar, I would chug all 3 beers and then get off the bus to continue drinking. At each bar, I would have a few shooters, and then chug a few more beers. At me and my friends' last estimate, I had probably had close to 20 beers in about 2 hours.

And (from what i recall) I was a total gong show. I was trying to open the emergency hatch on the roof of the bus. I was hanging my head out the doors while the bus was moving mere inches from the highway. I was wresting with Nate on the floor. I was singing kareoke into the intercom (which actually, i do when im sober as well...so never mind). And everyone was cheering me on.

So we finally get to our last destination...scenic Warman Saskatchewan. Im totally wasted, but unlike my friends who were also excessively drunk, Im still in pretty coherent condition. So we get off the bus and are proudly marching to the door, slowly maybe, but still with determination....when this fat girl ( i usually would say "bigger" or "heavier set" but due to the next part of the story, no she was just a big fat bitch) comes running up beside me and yells "Come on (Juicy's real name), Move it! You have drinking to do!" And PUSHES ME.

Now...I had drank a lot that night...and really wasnt feeling that great anymore....and really hadnt been sober in over 35 days...and had been pushed from behind by a fat chick...and...

SPLAT

Fell flat on my face.

I laid there for a while. People were freaking out. My encouraging fans were close to tears thinking that i was horribly injured or maybe dead. I really dont know where Nate was... cuz to this day i dont recall him being around when all this happened. I just remember thinking "Crap. I think i ripped my new jeans".

After a few minutes, i rolled over and looked at everyone... well, everyone who was still there. Most of the people had gone into the bar by this time and were doing shooters. I felt my face and felt that it was slightly bleeding ( i had some pretty bad road rash) and my jaw was really sore ( it would be swollen and bruised for weeks) and then i started giggling because, i mean i was really still quite drunk. While I was having a giggle fit, i noticed this weird metallic taste in my mouth and knew something had to be wrong. My best friend Lulu ( who less than 10 minutes before was the most ridiculous human i had ever seen because she was so wasted) was now telling people to back away from me and was looking for a ride for the hospital. Slowly I stood up to ask her "where is Nate?" but only got half a syllable out...because out of my mouth fell a piece of tooth.

I cant recall what happened after that. Im told i would go from crying to laughing to crying again non stop for about an hour. I refused to go to the hospital and, actually, kept drinking. Nate, who seemed mysteriously absent when i actually hurt myself, still took me home and fucked me that night... even with a swollen face and 2 broken teeth ( there just wasnt any kissing or oral). The worst part, so I am told, is that i kept crying that now for sure no one would ever love me again. I think I tried to call the super ex too...but chickened out.

The next day i refused to go to school. I had emergency dental work done instead. When i returned to class, everyone in the school had heard the story about how everyone's fave party girl had one drink too many and lost some teeth. Im sure the story is still heard around the old alma mater. But really, i just kinda meant that for that time in my life, the party was over. I needed something to pull me out of the cess pool i was falling into...or i guess knock some sense into me...and it happened to be a drunk fat girl.

The fake teeth make me laugh because they are a testament to (one) of the messiest times in my life...which, like the teeth themselves, I appear to have gotten out of unscathed...on the outside.