Of Yogurt, Toilets and Part Two...It's Wednesday.

When it comes to yogurt flavors, I tend to play it safe. Classics like peach, raspberry, strawberry and the occassional marionberry hold residence on the left side of my refrigerator, waiting with probiotic stoicism to serve their duty as my breakfast. But this week I noticed new flavors among the perennial favorites. Apple pie...watermelon...strawberry lemonade?? What the heck, yogurt? What are you trying to do to me?

And I thought, "Why not? Why shouldn't yogurt be watermelon flavored?" and I threw one of each into my basket. Adventurous!

But unwise. So far I've tried apple pie and watermelon, and let me just say--gross! Strawberry lemonade, I have high hopes for you...

Have you ever used a Japanese toilet? I've used a toilet in Japan, but I was never brave enough nor desperate enough to use the traditional hole-in-the-ground ones. I like to sit while I do my business. That's my prerogative as a chick.

I'm getting waaaaay off track here.

The Japanese, it seems, are very conscientious of their toilet-time comforts. I have never been so amazed nor confused by the sheer number of options while 'resting.' Need to make some noise? The toilet will project a distracting tune for your auditory privacy! (My thought is, nothing says 'I'm taking a giant crap!' like random music coming out of a public bathroom stall) Cold bum? Warm it up with the heated seat option. Can't live without a bidet? A motorized whoohaa-drenching arm swings out from under the seat and gives you a refreshing splash. Germophobe? A wall dispenser offers cleanser and paper towels to satisfy your sense of security. I can't remember the rest of the buttons and gadgets because I was too afraid I would break the commode with my American button-pushing. 

Again, waaaay off track! 

The point is, Japanese airline All Nippon Airways will cater to their female passengers by providing 'women only' restrooms at the back of the plane. 

"An airline official told Kyodo news agency that ANA decided to designate women-only lavatories based on a 2007 online survey in which 90 percent of the women polled said the idea was attractive."    

Japanese women are tired of dealing with men who leave the seat up!

Furthermore, ANA  has connected toilet etiquette with going green... "Toilet etiquette appears to be an important part of ANA's policy-- the airline had previously asked passengers to use the lavatories before they board flights so as to reduce the overall weight of the plane, which would ultimately be better for the environment as it would mean less fuel useage."  Look at me, siting my sources! Reuters, 2010.

A few of you may be wondering what happened to Part Two of my Diabolical Dentist escapades. I just got way too lazy to write out the rest of the day, and to be honest, I was too disoriented to remember a lot of what happened. Long story short, I love nitrous, drill noises literally make me lose my mind, and I needed a root canal. Yes, there were tears.

I say needed because last Friday I returned to the dentist for my root canal, and learned that I'm highly claustrophobic--especially when it comes to having my nose covered. More tears, shaking, hyperventilation, more nitrous...but now the toothache is gone! Well, mostly. Before the procedure I was told it should take an hour to an hour and a half, but when they brought me up out of my blissful, nitrous-induced oblivion (I take a lot of gas. It's lovely), it was 5:30 pm. Three and a half hours after I had settled into the chair! And I still have to return next month for a permanent filling and crown. Crap. But next time, I am determined to be a grown up about it. Determined!

As I lay there last Friday, half-stoned, very confused and barely caring, listening to the Beatles and ignoring the construction zone in my mouth, I thought, "I'm smart. I'm a grown up. I'm rational (usually). But these nice ladies wouldn't know it by my actions in their office." I hate the idea that they think of me as a skiddish little child. They treat me like a spooked horse. They speak in soothing tones and pat me kindly. I'm a grown up, but for some reason the dentist reverts me to a terrified, confused little girl.

I'm thinking about sending the dentist and her assitant a list of my accomplishments, my GPA and scholarships, my paid-off credit cards and other proof of my ability to be an adult. You know, just to prove that I'm not always a freaked out little scardey-cat of a useless person...