I'd like to quote from my friend Jess Riley's new book, Riding Sideways, due out in May of this year (Riley's Rambling's on my sidebar) "It's amazing how much of a sense of entitlement complex you can get just walking around feeling healthy."
I beg you, PLEASE don't tell me the time will pass quickly and 'then it will be over.' I'm not a retard, well most of the time anyway, and believe it or not I understand the passage of time and the beginnings and endings of events. I'm living over here in Realityville, although to my knowledge Los Angeles has never been called anything remotely similar to that. And everyone knows that time only passes quickly when you're doing something phenomenal, like on Safari in the Serengeti, shopping in Milan or lying on the beach in Maui. So when Mr. Brick Wall or Miss Aluminum Siding offers up those platitudes, tell them they're not helping because you graduated from the 2nd grade and can actually tell time and while they're up could they pass the bottle of Vicodin?
I came down with a terrible cold last week, probably because my stress level was off the charts and caused my immune to crash. Then my allergies made a return engagement and I've now cancelled my accountant 3 times. I'm supposedly going at 5:30 pm today. I just may file late because there's nothing worse than crying all over your 1099's. And for all the wrong reasons.
I'm the first surgery on Tuesday morning and my friend Heidi the nurse said that's a good thing because they're not all tired from partying over the weekend. Although I've probably got the one L.A. doctor who hangs out with Lindsay Lohan.
My surgeon looked me in the eye twice and said "This is a VERY BIG surgery." After the second time I said, "If you tell me that one more time I will take those glasses off your face and smash them." Was he trying to scare me or just saying that the huge discount he gave me was worth it because it was a VERY BIG surgery? Why do doctors make so much money for being cruel? And if that's all it takes, I should be a bazillionaire by now.
In other gross news, he told me that they have to lengthen my calf muscle. So now I'll have 3 scars to add to the 10 I already have, for a grand total of 13. Can anybody beat that? You win no prize, it will just not make me feel all alone in the freakishly scarred for life department. And I'm only counting the physical ones.
The good news is that my right leg will be numb for 24 hours so I can have friends over to play "Did you feel that?", "How about that?" "Hey, where do you keep your knife sharpener?" Mr. Very Big Surgery said that the first few days will be really hard and I could tell from his voice that was a euphemism for PAIN WORSE THAN TORTURE BECAUSE THIS IS A VERY BIG SURGERY. I may not answer emails and only answer my phone when I'm really high off Vicodin. So get your tape recorders ready.
And at the end of all this I'll be able to wear these shoes by Balenciaga.I won't be able to afford them, but I'll be able to wear them.