My first blog

So, this is my first time blogging. I am officially a blogger. I blog. Wow, there is just no funny or cool way to say that is there? (I can just feel the hot glares from serious bloggers everywhere. Relax. I'm kidding. Sort of.) Anyway, how shall I let you get to know me? You can't smell my sweet breath through the computer, can't get an eyeful of my fashionable outfit, can't even feel the enveloping warmth of my hug. So instead I submit this: Christmas day I broke my tooth. If you have never done this let me tell you the horror of spitting out pieces of your own tooth is something that will never leave you. It is a nightmare the likes of which you cannot imagine. I, for one, had a panic attack I'm not sure I'm done having 2 weeks later. Anyway, I went away this weekend for work and had to get my suitcase from my mother. I got it, packed and was on my way! Watch out Atlanta cause I'm comin' to town! 2 days in I am searching my suitcase for something and I happen upon a balled up piece of tinfoil. No idea where it came from. Never saw it before. Now let me say that my mother is a big fan of the foil of tin. She loves the stuff. When I graduated from college and moved home she lined my dresser drawers in tin foil in anticipation of my arrival. She framed my college diploma with tinfoil behind it. That's just the way she rolls. Since technically my suitcase was her suitcase I figured the tinfoil ball was hers. I went to put it back. Then, an idea! Maybe she had gotten me a little gift and left it for me to find! Isn't that sweet of her? So I unwrapped it. And what was in the little ball of potential goodness you ask? Wait for it.... It was a frigging TOOTH! A tooth! An honest to goodness tooth! I assure you the shriek that eminated from me could be heard through all the neighboring counties. And what was the first thing I did, upon seeing a tooth wrapped like a small gift? You better believe I checked my own teeth to make sure it wasn't one of mine! Holy hell! Thankfully it wasn't. I called my mother immediately to ask her what in God's name she was doing leaving a tooth in my suitcase and of course she denied it was hers. I mean, really, would you tell someone "Oh, yeah, that's where my right molar went!" No. I can tell you not, you would not. Of this I am sure. Her husband is a dentist and today, 3 days later, we solved the mystery: it was a prototype for a cap he was making. For whom, I have no idea. But if this were a Scooby Doo mystery at least we would have the who and why. In any case, if you want to know who I am, know I am the type of person who would randomly find a tooth wrapped like a gift in their suitcase.