The daily adventures and travails of one neurotic, klutzy, hungry, cynical college girl. Tune in for prizes! (offer void where prohibited. See office for details. Not responsible for lost articles.)
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Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Blogger or my office computer, one of the two, is being a ridiculously uncooperative whiny little bitch. It was a day's worth of work (I kid you not, I began at 9 am and quit around 4, because life is too short for this shit) and I only posted a quarter of the pictures I need to share.
As C would say, "Whatever."
So, ideally, don't look at the pictures below until I've posted the full thing.
Here's a quick story to tide you over:
Last week, I saw my doctor specialist and was sufficiently intimadated and frightened enough to block the memory out, for the most part. My mom loved him but I was trembling in case I did something to piss him off. He'd be one of those guys who's silently gas you in the elevator because you took the last gum from the bowl.
So scared that I forgot to call in my ultrasound (yes, I'm pregnant. it explains my weight gain) and today he calls in my blood test results. I thought it was a boy I wanted to hear from, so I was sing-songey and evasive, when he asked "Is this Grace?" But when I heard "This is Dr. S-" in the mock sing-songey voice of his, I shut down again. (I wrote his name but edited it out, because I'm still scared of his Jekyll-Hyde act, and he might google himself. And then kill me.)
"Yes," I squeaked. "This is Grace."
Much to my surprise, however, he is funny, charming, and dare I say it? Giddy. So much friendlier than when I met him, that I began to suspect this was an elaborate prank or a misunderstanding. Perhaps he was calling on BEHALF of Dr. S-?
After listening to my prognosis and nervously jotting down my own notes, I summoned the courage. (of a lion, ala Rex Kwan Do)
"So, when you said HE recommended this treatment, who do you mean?" Fingers crossed, Dr. S-!
Pause.
Dr S "A colleage of mine who works at the head institute of research."
I cringed. So he is the same Dr.S- who glared at me for reading a Shape magazine while waiting for him to arrive and glared at its hasty position onto his seat, because I didn't realize he was going to sit? The same Dr S- who gave me major "You're an idiot" face when I stammered out questions. (Two, before my spleen erupted from silent tension.) The same Dr S- who barked at my sexual inactivity in front of my mother. (Double the awkward, kids.)
Then he giggled. Or chuckled, rather, being a man.
I'm flummoxed.
On the other hand, he WAS really handsome.
5:25 PM
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