I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side, spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!"

"Gone where?"

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!" there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: "Here she comes!"

And that is dying.

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I can't help but wonder how I would have turned out if I hadn't left Japan, or if I hadn't set my standards so low. Would I be more committed (in mind) to working at my degree? Would I even set my career goal higher than a vet tech or a nurse? Would I actually sit and study more than I did in my first semester and better than my second semester where I sat around staring into space? High school had me taking the easy way out, because everything about it was the easy way out. I hadn't needed to really apply myself for anything.

But it wasn't just work and the way I was that dragged me behind. It was my father. His death changed my life in more ways than one. And now when I have a question, who will I ask for the answer? Who is going to tell me, no, I can't move out, no, I can't pierce my septum, no, I can't get a tattoo?

Where is that camping spot that I now call heaven? Where was it?

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Still there, actually.

I went in Tuesday morning for my teeth extractions. Four teeth, the two bottom wisdom teeth, and the first two bottom bicuspids. Sometime next year, another four come out. Ohhhh joy. They put the IV in, which was no problem. I've seen it done a hundred times. No pain. Eric Clapton's Layla on the radio while the surgeon pushed in the general anesthesia.

When I woke up, I was helped into a wheelchair and wheeled into my mom's car. I don't remember much, but I was really loopy. I kept mumbling something about Taco Bell (probably the freezes cause we were told to get my something cold and slushie) and sobbing, "I love you." over and over to my mother, brother, and called Kelsie even. Scared her cause she thought something went wrong. Yeah, I was pretty loopy.

I didn't eat for the eight hours before the surgery, and made sure by having it ten hours, but to my luck, I puked when I got home. Took a nap. Puked when I woke up. Took Percocet and Motrin and puked some more. Ohhhh yeah. Tasting food twice. Not fun. Not to mentioned I got dehydrated as fuck. I was bawling all night just because I didn't want to be nauseous and puking anymore. The next day, was the vertigo from losing the liquid. The steroid was still in my system, so my jaw wasn't in pain, and I was able to go to Barnes & Nobles and walk about. The third day, more vertigo, therefore, I took more painkillers, which had me out, so I slept the WHOLE day, leading to more vertigo when I woke up. Today, I bore the pain. I refused to take Percocet and Motrin, because I didn't want the vertigo anymore.

My face still hurts, but at least I can sit here and not get nauseous at a slight bump on the chair, etc, etc. I am able to read, and I finished (with difficulty) Kelley Armstrong's The Summoning and Patricia Briggs' Cry Wolf. The latter nearly killed me. It is incredibly hard to read with so many painkillers in your system pulling you to sleep.

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***MONDAY & TUESDAY’S FOO FIGHTERS SHOWS POSTPONED TO MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 8th & TUESDAY SEPTEMBER 9th - DUE TO ILLNESS***

(From the Red Rocks website.)

Kelse walks in my room at 7:00am in the morning saying, "I've got some unfortunate news. My mom heard on the radio that the Foo Fighters concert is postponed."

My first thought, "Is Dave Grohl okay?"

She said she was going to go research it online, and it's true. Here I am, double confirming it. And now I'm wondering, "Who got sick? Is he okay?" like the fangirl I am. D:

Edit: Aww, poor Dave Grohl. It's he who's sick.

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