Under the Knife

I have been back in So Cal for about 3 weeks now.  High time for some plastic surgery!  I gotta do what I gotta do to fit in down here, peeps. 

Thanks to our knife-wielding doctor friend, I went from a C to a DD and the recovery has been so smooth!!!!!!

...........

OMG you guys.  I just got a mole removed.  You crazies.    

But because he is a great family friend and a stellar plastic surgeon, I'll hook him up with a little Mad World promo.  If I ever gain 300 pounds and then lose it all on The Biggest Loser, or if I ever stand too close to one of T. Boone Pickens' windmills and get a boob chopped off, I will go to Dr. Troy Andreasen for a tummy tuck or breast implant.  And you should, too. 

Aaahaha I actually just looked at his website.  Scroll past the porn and you can read about his LDS mission.  I love a good juxtaposition when I see one.  

Lani, Natalie, Moley, and Me at Nat's bachelorette party in 2009

It was a bittersweet farewell to Moley.  We've been joined at the eyebrow since birth.  Inseparable.  We went everywhere together.  Trekking through the Alps. City-gazing atop the Eiffel Tower.  Swimming among sea urchins in the Adriatic.  She was there for my first tooth, my first time-out, my first pair of High Tops, my first kiss, my second first kiss, my first paycheck, my first ticket...everything.  She's grown up so fast.  Too fast, actually.  And too big.  Which is why we had to part ways before she tried to get crazy and one-up my face. I'll cherish every moment we've spent together.  And she'll always be there, in all 901 photos that I'm tagged in on FBoo.  Rest in peace, Moley.   

A few hours after my surgery I went to the gym.  Either because I ran a little harder today or because the turkey in my sandwich was bad or because Troy accidentally cut out part of my brain along with Moley, I nearly passed out.  I have a history of fainting (that's a lot of bad turkey sandwiches over the years), so fortunately for bystanders I know how to save them from any sort of civil duty they might otherwise be obligated to if I fell down in a heap at their feet.  I sat on a weight machine and put my head between my knees. 

After a couple minutes of utter motionlessness on my part, I heard a voice say, "You must be thinking about all of your sins."

I raised my bloodless head to see a darling old man on the machine across from me.  When he observed my stitched up eye, he said, "Did you get in a fist fight with your boyfriend?"  

"Yes. And I won."

"That's good. Do you ever read the San Bernardino crime report?"

"I try to avoid stuff like that."

"Well there were 14 murders last month.  The record is 24 in a month."

"Tell me some good news."

"When you're 80, you get a free gym membership!"

"That's something to live for."

"Yeah, or die for."

I'm not sure what he meant by that, but I appreciated our conversation in the midst of my freak dizzy spell.  I'm pretty sure I could have trusted him to take good care of me if things had gone down hill.  Unless one of those San Bernardino crime reports had his name on it.  But I doubt that.