Stumbling onto a Former Me

Me, looking skeptical in 2006
Recently I received an automated email informing me that due to neglect, my LiveJournal account will soon be deleted...
LiveJournal!? What the Hell is that!? That must have been like 10 years ago... Well, my last entry was 2006 so seven years actually. There's something so strange about stumbling onto journal entries from the past. They usually contain reminders of things you've forgotten about -- people you no longer interact with, places you no longer go, activities you no longer participate in. It's like putting on an old pair of pants that don't quite fit anymore. Here's an entry I wrote back in the summer of 2006 while I was living in Tennessee with my parents, after I had just gotten my wisdom teeth removed:  

So here I am. I don't even know why I'm doing this, I hate online journals and the like. It just seems like an excuse to talk about oneself in an attempt to get everyone's sympathy/attention/envy/whatever. But I don't know, I'm aware my cynicism is reaching a dangerous level (aw, everyone feel sorry for me), so maybe I should just cool it and give you a report on my day. 

I woke up at a decent time this morning (9:30ish) to get ready for my visit to the oral surgeon. Unfortunately, I couldn't eat or drink anything 6 hours before my 11:00 appointment, so a full hour was way too much time for just a shower, but oh well. Regardless of too much time, I was late to the appointment on account of traffic (of course), but eventually got to the office five minutes after the hour and was immediately led to the chair of death. Actually, it wasn't that bad at all. They even gave me a blanket to keep me snug as a bug in my chemically-induced sleep. How sweet. The nurse placed heart monitors on my chest and hip as I commented on how sleepy I was already, not being able to consume my habitual morning coffee. She then put a mask over my face, saying, "we're going to go ahead and give you some laughing gas just to make you more relaxed" and we continued to make friendly conversation on the topic of caffeine until the surgeon came in the room. "You all ready to get this over with?" he asked. I'm sure I responded with something overly enthusiastic, but I can't remember. The last thing I can remember was him asking for my arm to insert the IV, accompanied by a comment on what "lovely veins" I had. That player. 

I honestly can't remember anything else until I was waking up about 45 minutes later with a mouth full of gauze (shudder) and a slightly swollen jaw. And before I really knew what was happening, I started crying. It was actually really funny because I wasn't in pain, I wasn't really all that confused, it just sort of happened. And it wasn't crying so much as it was me blinking and a light rain shower developing over the eyes and moving south to the chin area... which I couldn't feel, thanks to the Novocain. The nurse allowed my mother in and the two of them sat by my side, asking if I was okay in a soothing motherly tone until the surgeon came back in to wipe away my tears. I swear to God, he wiped away my tears (but I don't remember it... I also just barely remember informing my mother not to worry about me being emotional and that "I cry when I drink too much" to which she responded with a laugh and a "really? I didn't know that." I said, "well, you aren't supposed to know that." Smooooth. Apparently, the stuff they gave me made me rather talkative because I also remember my mother later saying, "why don't you just lie there and try not to talk." So the highlight of my day was getting my wisdom teeth removed. Booo. Well... that, and Vicodin. Ooh, and vanilla pudding. Okay, so it turns out I'm kind of sad, but whatever. Because right now, I've got a warm kitty on my feet, ice cream in my belly, and a Jacob Marley's Ghost-looking ice pack strapped to my jaw... which is more than you can say, my friend... more than you can say.