Ahem... I am back -- not that you probably noticed my absence, but I was having some technical difficulties with my server. All that has now been solved, and fans may be interested to note that sometime around this week, parenthetical.org should be celebrating it's sixth birthday. If my website were a kid, it would be heading to first grade now, and I'd be left at home worrying if the other kids were gonna be nice. Aww, happy birthday, little parenthetical.

Test?

Update: As it turns out, the "fissurotomy," as my dentist called it, took all of three minutes (I literally spent longer in the waiting room than in the dentists' chair) and the most uncomfortable aspect of it was having to open my small mouth wide enough to allow the dentist to work. I briefly got very terrified when a syringe-like device was passed over my head from the assistant to the dentist, and wanted to say "But you said I wouldn't need novocaine!" except my mouth was full of hands. But they didn't poke me with a needle -- apparently, "through the wonders of nanotechnology" (according to my doctor) they were able to insert a teeny, tiny amount of resin into the teeny, tiny dent in my mouth. "It's like removing a tumor on a cellular level, instead of waiting for the cancer to form a lump!" he said. I have a feeling he uses that line a lot when describing this procedure to patients. But oh well, you literally cannot see the thing they used to filled my tooth with a naked eye, so I don't think it qualifies as an actual cavity. Hurrah.