Wisdom tooth...or the insidious tooth from hell?

Whoa..this is my v.first entry, so I'm gonna keep things simple...The most recent thing that happened? Well, I got a wisdom tooth (or so they call 'it') pulled- or rather wrenched out. One down, one more to go. Right now, I'm re-evaluating my decision of getting the 2nd of the twin terrors yanked out, after what had happened. It was a rather spontaneous and foolish move to jump to the decision, but hey, Doc. Frankenstein made it sound like my whole jaw was going to deteriorate and fall off if I didn't. It wasn't comforting, the fact that he'd asked me to 'eat a wholesome meal first', and the fact that I kept hearing what seemed like drilling noises from beyond a closed door...(Geez, and people wonder why there are lame flicks like 'The Dentist'). I admit it, I was yellow; I squeezed my eyes shut after they made me swallow a cocktail of half a dozen painkillers + antibiotics, but the sounds were gruesome enough. It was seriously like CRACKING A NUT OPEN...It sounded so, at least; I could hear wrenching sounds. I was breaking out in cold sweat; I think it was ultimately scary partly because of the fact that most of us step into Doc. Frankenstein's office without knowing what the hell some of his instruments actually do, and partly because we keep hearing intimidating noises. With anesthetic, it felt like my cheeks were as swelled as The Nutty Professor's...when I got home and looked in the mirror, I realized that I wasn't wrong. After, though....oh boy oh boy...it felt as if someone was using a pair of tweezers, violently prodding and poking into the left side of my jaw. Oh, well...in my time of pain and agony, I seek comfort in the visualization that good ol' Doc. Frankenstein would sooner or later be at the mercy of yet another Doc. Frankenstein, lying on the chair with the same intimidating utensils directed at him. Ahhh...perfect bliss.

Okay, back to reality.

Now that it doesn't hurt, I no longer hold a personal vendetta against the good ol' doc. Now I'm channeling my energy towards more constructive activity...like packing my stuff for my soon-to-be trip to the land of Aussies :) There's only one set-back...with all the stuff that I intend to bring, it'll take a miracle to literally make them fit into just a couple of bags. By this rate, I can imagine myself jumping on top of the bag, trying to stomp it shut while my dad wrestles with the lock. Cashmere, duck down feathers, leather, cotton, polyster...hard to imagine that I've bought so many jackets of different categories...Look on the bright side; at least the worst of the begining of my trip is over- for now. I FINALLY received an offer from the accommodation services :)))) The feeling of vast relief is like being able to exhale long-held breath, but while my prolonged anxiety-in-anticipation is finally over, it looks like it's just begun for my folks :( I feel a twinge -or pang...or worse- of guilt when I see them fussing over my stuff on my behalf...