To all my dearest friends and family...You are lucky I am alive! I recently had a near death experience. About one year ago, when I moved to Utah, I signed up for dental insurance. Due to the Law of Procrastination, Wes and I were just barely getting around to doing are semi-annual cleaning and check-up. When I signed up for dental insurance, my insurance just gave me a list of dentists I could use. So I just randomly chose one near my home. (A little too near as it turned out.) When I called my dentist to make an appointment...he answered. The dentist answered! I don't know if all of you frequent the dentist's office, but that is not normal. That was my first sign. I greeted him and made my appointment, which was the NEXT day. That was my second sign. He asked me if I knew where his office was. So, I said no and asked him to just give me the address. (Thank goodness for GPSs) He then proceeded to tell me it was in the basement of his home. At this point, I got nervous. I hung up and told Wes about my conversation. We thought maybe he had a nice big basement with a huge swanky dentist office in it. We could hope, right. I told a few coworkers where I'd be just in case I didn't emerge. So, the time came and we pulled up to the office. When we walked into the office/basement, I saw that it was in fact NOT a huge, swanky basement office. There were wood paneled walls and a huge cougar skin pinned up next to a million dentist cartoons. Then, I saw the 100 year old man sitting behind the desk. As he led me into his torture chamber with his shaky hands and questionable instruments I only hoped Wes would not pop on his I-Pod, so he could still hear my screams if things got out of hand. As it turned out, he was a kindly 100 year old man (as most 100 year old men are) and although he stabbed Wes' lip, lost my insurance card, and told me stories about how he once got a false positive for an AIDS screening blood test when he was donating blood, we emerged alive. However, we will be seeking a new dental provider in 6 months.