I’ve been absent, I know it. But I feel I have a well enough reason to let me blogging duties slip for a little while. Why? Because even though having my wisdom teeth out wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, it still wasn’t much fun at all. I don’t recommend it – despite what those darn peers of yours may be telling you, it’s not a hip way to spend your weekend.

Having spent my life rather devoid of mouth pain, not once suffering from the torture of orthodonture, I didn’t know what to expect going in to the oral surgeon last Friday. I employed my usual tactic of convincing myself that the pain will be unbearable, it’ll be the worst feeling in the world, that I’d spend all weekend writhing in pain too overwhelming to stem with narcotics. I do this to myself so that when I actually am in pain, it’s never as bad as I expected, and thus not so bothersome. It has always served me well in the past, but I’ve mostly used it to prepare myself to have my blood drawn or something.

Although the pain wasn’t as overwhelming as I had psyched myself up for, parts of the procedure were unexpected. Like the swelling. I hadn’t thought about that, which seems pretty stupid of me now. Only now, about a week later, can I finally see my cheekbones again. They still don’t look quite right, though, because my cheeks have a slight tinge of blue and green – some bruises left over from the operation, I suppose.

The most obnoxious part, totally separate from the actual pain, were the stitches. I hadn’t thought of that either, which really leads me to believe that I wasn’t prepared for this at all. The ends of the stitches seemed so long in my mouth – they kept poking my tongue, the roof of my mouth, errgh, it was awful. Finally, last night, I just couldn’t take it anymore… I pulled them out. Now, that sounds much worse than it actually was. The oral surgeon said that they’d dissolve in about five days – it had been five days and most of them had dissolved, but not the tails. I was thinking, maybe cause they aren’t actually in my gums it’ll take them longer to dissolve. I could tell the tails were getting longer and longer, meaning they were coming out, so I just decided to help things along. With a quick tug, they came right out, and *man* did I feel better!

At least I was able to drop everything I was doing and relax all weekend without worrying. Of course, the percocet may have had something to do with my state of blissful ignorance, but eh. I managed to wrap everything up that I had to get done just in time to have my teeth out, so I spent the weekend watching movies, stupid television, and eating as many Wendy’s frosties as I could stand. For the first few days that was literally all I could eat.

But now everything’s almost back to normal. I have my cheekbones again, I’ve graduated to more solid foods, and I can almost yawn without wincing. Things are looking up, and it’s back to work for me. Thanks to my now nocturnal hours (thank you, pain killers…), I was able to get a lot done last night. I finished the permanent online gallery for all my photos of Washington, and I’m looking around at other options for this television show I’m pitching. So, check out the pretty pictures, wish me luck with the show, and um, I think that’s everything for now. I’m going to go put some ice on my face and watch Celebrity Poker Showdown. Hoorah!