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2003-10-08 - 9:25 p.m.

I have bad teeth. They're discolored and brittle, and when I say discolored, I mean that any one tooth can contain up to 30 different shades of white or yellow. The discoloration doesn't bother me so much, but the brittleness does. (Brittleness... is that a word?) I had chipped a couple of teeth recently, from biting down too hard on my other teeth, and part of today's adventure was going and getting them fixed at the dentist. Since my teeth chip so much, I've become a pro at being a dental patient, and the best part about it is the look on the dentist's face when they try to pick out a color to fill in the chip with. It's a look of total confusion. It's impossible to pick out a good color when I have every possible color in that same tooth they're trying to fix. The dentist always makes the "I'm confused" face, and it never stops being funny to me.

Every trip to the dentist is different, even when you're having the same chip replaced because the original replacement falls out, and this time the novocaine shot went straight up into my nose, making it feel like someone punched me in the face. Not that I've ever been punched in the face, but I imagine it to feel similar.

Another part of today's adventures involved reading the rest of that old diary I found. I've always thought of myself as someone who doesn't spend too much time thinking about men and my relationship to them, but apparently I thought about men far more than I remember. You'd think the only thing that happened during basic training was me meeting a certain Vann Deming. And it amazed me how much I was in love with Mike. Furthermore, I apparently was madly in love with Noah. I vaguely recall having a crush on him, but I guess he and Florian filled every waking thought. Florian! Did I really hold hands with him while watching X-Files all those nights?


Naturally, it puts quite a bit into perspective for me. Basic training was 5 years ago. Mike, 5 and a half. 5 years from now, how much will I think about the people who are around me now? Will I keep in touch with anyone? Will I remember what Sean looks like? Will I still think about Rick every once in awhile? I used to endlessly wish for the day to come where I wouldn't think of Rick even once during a 24 hour span. I never thought it would, but I can honestly say that days do go by now where he doesn't enter my mind. I look back at my diary and note how I got over Mike and was able to love other people after him. I really loved Mike, too. Something else that caught my attention is that I don't seem to fling myself into caring relationships as much these days, and while perhaps it is less naive of me to do so, it still made me kind of sad.

I have to be on post at 7 tomorrow morning for a sensing session. If I have any actual say in this sensing session, the first words out of my mouth will be indignation at being forced to be at a sensing session on my day off and so contrary to my work schedule.

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