Apropos of Nothing

A couple of months after I had braces installed to close my widening teeth gaps, I noticed my teeth taking on a two-tone look. The part nearest to the gums turned to an embarrassing shade of yellow. The discrepancy from the other whiter half is really noticeable. (The neon-palette of elastics further aggravates the situation.)

My pretty dentist gave me a sage word of advice.  Swish your teeth with hydrogen peroxide.

I grimaced (as you may be doing now) while images of wounds bubbling with peroxide flashed through my mind.

Well, as vanity dictates it, I must at least give it a try.

Off to Watsons I went and bought the smallest bottle available (less than P20 for 120ml).

I was encouraged that the back of the bottle contains this part in its Indications and Directions – “May be used as mouth wash when diluted with 2 parts of water”. At least I was assured that it can be used orally (and on other surprising areas as well)

At home, I devised my formulation. I used 1:1 proportion with water.  Five bottle caps of the peroxide plus water was enough for two swishes. Expecting an aftertaste, I had my toothbrush with toothpaste ready on hand. I also chose not to swish (did not want bubbles all over my mouth) and I kept the solution only on the front part of my mouth. I let my teeth soak on the solution for about a minute, spit it out and then do it again. I end the ritual with a thorough brushing with regular toothpaste and then flossing. Finally a swipe of lip gloss (for non-flaking lips – not required for whiter teeth.) I did this twice a day for a week.

Whiter teeth is evident as early as third day! Even the super-secret nicotine stains (circa 90’s) at the back of my upper teeth is lightening!

Nowadays, you will see me smiling more often. Partly, it’s because of the whiter teeth. Mostly though it’s because soon I and my whiter teeth are off to a new adventure!

Thanks for the tip, Doc Sybil! (meet her soon in my Friends List).

My friend S calls these guys “Chick-ers”. Between me and her, we have formed a Chick-er’s Observation Forum.

Chick-ers are men who likes women. A lot of women. Men whose prime obsession and inevitable downfall are women. They are on to women – always in plural form.

These Chick-ers come in a variety of ages, form, educational attainment, nationality and religious affiliation.  The only thing common with them all is their hound’s instinct for any female within vicinity.

Our favorite, of course, is the Alpha Chick-er.  He’s got the looks of a comic’s hero, the suave of a movie star, the bottomless wallet of a political machinery, the education of a Harvard man and the hotness of a nuclear blast. He smiles and we girls go a-flutter around him. His wit entraps our mind. His manners makes us feel like princesses. His generosity bowls us over. Finally, he is so hot that a pinch of attention from him makes us feel like we’re Angelina Jolie. He makes a hit and the female hardly survives. Thankfully, the Alpha Chick-er is currently listed as an endangered species and can largely be observed only on silver screen. (Interestingly though, we have often made the mistake of tagging a gay guy as a Chick-er. There are a lot of similarities between the two. Either that – or we have really faulty gay-dars.)

More common though is your garden variety Chick-er.  He does not induce as much fantasies as the Alpha Chick-er but he is an endless source of amusement and amazement. They fail the Alpha Chick-er class because they are usually lacking in at least two of the criteria – looks, personality, wallet-size or intellect. But don’t be misled. We have heard stories (legends more likely) of Chick-ers with none of the above qualifications but with a conquest list as long as EDSA. The garden variety Chick-er is the kind of guy whom your bestfriend cried over for a month (third party factor as usual).  You did not get to meet him (he is always rushing off) until one fateful day when you realized that it’s the same gnome-looking male that your other bestfriend is currently sighing over. No looks, no personality, no money and slow in the brain waves department. You know him – he walks around with a string of broken hearts wrapped around like a sash in his shrunken chest.

So what do you do when you encounter a Chick-er? If it’s an Alpha one, and you have an Alpha self-esteem that can withstand a nuclear blast, then go for it and we want every juicy detail. If it’s the other Chick-er kind, well, you don’t. Usually, this kind of Chick-er does not go around publicly declaring the notches on his belt (oh yes, he loves ‘em and scalps ‘em too). More often than not, they capitalize on their underdog qualities and are seemingly harmless and totally loveable. They woo (or let you do the wooing) in the subtlest of ways. The eventual outcome, of course, is the love-sick and abandoned female.

Admittedly, the Forum is under a lot of criticism. By focusing on this kind of men, are we not endorsing the continued grief of women? Well, you see, we fancy ourselves to be oncologists of the male/female relationship. Also, in these times of metrosexual ek-ek, spotting a man whose primal interest is still the female (preferably in singular form) is actually a relief. And heck, they’re as amusing as dogs (as long as you are not in their hit list).