Gary Gets Sassy
For some reason I was awake before Gary and I got to read the news, including a story about the Norwegian Spiral.
When woke up, I told him, “There was the coolest story on the news this morning. There was a photo of a perfect giant spiral in the sky over Norway, because a missile spun out.”
Gary said, “That isn’t really a story, is it?”
“Huh?”
“Well there isn’t really a plot.”
Sassy!
Guilt Trip / Road Trip
I took Highway Forty to my dermatologist appointment at Barnes Hospital. Now that Highway Forty is finished, the electronic signs that formerly read
HIGHWAY FORTY
CLOSED BETWEEN I-170
AND KINGSHIGHWAY
now read
HIGHWAY FORTY
COMPLETED
AS PROMISED
These signs trouble me. I did not realize I had been pressuring Highway Forty. So, now I have to deal with Martyr Highways and Sassy Husbands.
And Then the Day Turned Around
So, I was naked in front of the dermatologist, and I commented I was now too fat to fit in the standard hospital gown.
“What? You look great!” he peered at me all over. “Everything checks out okay. I just need to look at the backs of your thighs.”
I turned around and exposed my cellulite and said dryly, “Not my best part, you realize.”
Again, “What! No, you’re terrific!”
MEN.
LEARN THIS.
When women insult themselves, answer enthusiastically, “NO! You look GREAT!” This is a smart doctor.
He finished up and said, “Well you’re easy to examine. You just don’t have any spots or moles at all.”
I thought about saying, “I’m just a big blank white whale of a woman,” just to hear what he’d say.
9 responses to “The First Few Hours of My Day”
It wasn’t you; it was me. I was pressuring Highway 40 to be completed.
I stopped going to dermatologists after the last one (a crazy old white man) looked disgusted and yet at the same time told me I had beautiful skin…for someone my age.
The first one I ever went to was a horror. The second one…ahh…it really does pay to get the chief of dermatologic oncology. And they have them in New York.
(I love big words. “Epidemiological” makes me blissful.)
> “When women insult themselves, answer enthusiastically, ‘NO! You look GREAT!’”
I’m on the other side of the fence on this issue. I don’t like to play the self-deprecation game from either end of the court.
One of my all-time favorite exchanges in this vein occurred when I was 19. I asked my then-boyfriend the actual cliche question: “Do I look fat in this skirt?”
He paused to let us both take in the moment, then responded glibly, “If you do, it must be the skirt.”
We burst out laughing, and I never asked him that again. He was a sage fellow for his age… or any age.
Elsa dated a smart boy!I didn’t pressure anyone about highway 40, but I did email MODOT a complaint about how you can see any lane markings on 270 when it rains at night. They replied basically, “We know, and maybe some day we’ll fix it.” So when you see:270STRIPED WITH VISIBLE PAINTAS PROMISEDThat was all me, baby.
He might not perhaps have been referring to the fact that your skin, being so (ahem) so well filled, is easier to check than one that falls in folds and wrinkles?… that falls in folds and wrinkles and looks so OLD, I mean of course?
A simple On Time & Under Budget would have sufficed.
Amy in StL – Well, they should add “, AMY” to the end of the signs.Becs – “Ideopathic” is my fave.Elsa – Oh, that is a smart man. Caroline is right too.Caroline – Ok, so when will you comment on the funky turn lane paint at the intersecion of Caluks Hill and 94? It looks like they painted arrows, then painted 50% transparent gray squares on top. Do we turn or not?Big Dot – I realized later it’s his only choice. He has to make you feel comfortable while you stand half naked while he looks at your body. He can’t say, “God, you are fat.” and he can’t ignore it bacause then you’ll think it’s tacit agreement and never get naked in front of him again.Gaoo – Actually, it was ahead of schedule. I read that on another sign.
Queen, I actually emaied them about that the 3rd day of the re-route. Lotta damn good that did.
Caroline – well, thanks for trying, though.