Kim vs. Gravity #5: Dangerous Apples
Back for round 2 of being blasted by lasers! And this time, the suggestion was made that perhaps I ought to use the numbing cream. The giveaway must have been the way I was thrashing around on the table like a frog in biology class. They didn’t have to ask me twice, I got good and numbed up. Dr. Sundaram took my lack of twitching, fainting, and screaming as her cue to be a little more aggressive with our friend Captain Palomar Lux. The only thing I forgot to hit with the numbing cream was the tip of my nose, and I have a new winner and All-time Champion Thing That Really Hurts When You Shoot It With Lasers. For a couple of hours I felt pretty much like I had scrubbed my face with gravel and Altoids.
I was definitely pink, again in that polka dot pattern that I was quick to blame on a battle with an octopus. A little ice, a little aspirin, and the next day I was a little red and a bit lumpy (one might say I was lumpy before I went to the doctor. One should keep one’s opinion to oneself.). I just told everyone I got a sunburn. In October. Apple picking. It could happen, apples are notoriously reflective and very dangerous! Have we learned nothing from Snow White?
So I have another two visits with Palomar, and I ought to be seeing some improvement in my complexion within the next few weeks. Actually, a month after the first laser blast, I did find myself looking in the mirror and thinking the light must be awfully flattering. That’s a feeling that’s certainly worth a head full of laser hickies.
So I told you the first reason I got all of this done — and in case you think I’m being overly dramatic, one of my co-workers told me I was like Murphy Brown the other day (Note to self, invest in scarves).
The other reason is because there’s this boy? Who’s like really cute? And we’re getting married in 6 months. As I may have mentioned. He did not suggest that I get a little work done (or invest in some needlepoint, as my brother calls it), far from it. He has the myopia of love and I hope he always will. It’s me.
I was one of those 20-somethings who didn’t believe in her own looks. When a good looking guy was interested in me I was shocked, then flattered (thanks, absent bio-dad!), but unfortunately not suspicious of them, only of my own desirability. If they told me they couldn’t call me because they were allergic to phone-rays, and if they never took me to their houses because they claimed to be in the Federal witness protection program, like Fox Mulder, I wanted to believe.
Well, now I’m in my 40’s and at last I have won the guy lottery. And not only is he a wonderful guy, he just keeps getting better looking. It’s SO unfair. And I keep thinking, man you should have seen me when I was a hot, clueless young thing. If only there was some way to maybe nudge the clock back a little bit…some way to look as good as I feel…a way to look in the mirror and be happy with what I see — maybe for the first time. A sort of do-over.
Well, there is. And I am.
Next, living in my new skin.
Read Part One: Kim vs. Gravity
Read Part Two: Breakfast: The Most Important Part of Your Cosmetic Surgery Day!
Read Part Three: Kim the Amazing Duck-Faced Girl
Read Part Four: Intermission/A Radio Drama
Read Part Six: Aspirin, or I take one for the team
Read Part Seven: Gin Blossoms Are Not a Pretty Flower!
Read Part Eight: Post-wedding wrap up