Birthday Craziness September 29, 2004 ~ 1:21 pm
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closedLiAps posted something in the comments about a friend of his getting her bellybutton pierced, and that reminded me of another birthday spent mutilating my body. See, from 21 to 24, I had this thing about doing something wild on my birthday. Not sleeping with every man, woman, and dog in site after drinking everyone in the bar under the table kind of wild. Something tamer. Something that I’d wanted to do but had been terrified to try. It shook out something like this:
21 - Cartilage piercing in my left ear. Hurt like a mo-fo for weeks. The first time I picked up a phone and put it against that ear, I screamed. I pity whoever was on the other end of that phone line.
22 - The tattoo. You can read about this in the previous post.
23 - Second set of holes in lobes. Not terrifying, but I wanted to continue the mutilation trend.
24 - Belly button piercing. And that’s what we’re gonna talk about in this post.
My friend Lori has one of these, and I thought it was really fucking cool. Half of New York also has them, but I still thought it was really fucking cool. I was determined to get one. And my birthday was coming up, and we had to continue the tradition of “customizing” my body.
So Lori and our friend Amanda and I headed down to the East Village. Everyone there is pierced, it seemed an ideal place to go to join the masses. The original plan was to go down, get a couple of drinks, get me pierced, and go shopping, but by the time we hit St. Marks Place, I was twitchier than a Central Park squirrel. There was no way I was going to be able to sit through drinks and still get pierced. I was going to wus out if I didn’t do it right then. (There’s a pattern to this.. When I got tattooed, Kim let me go first, because otherwise I was going to wus out. But I digress.) And since such twitchiness is not attractive in two legged mammals (and not really even in squirrels), Lori, Amanda, and I headed to Andromeda, the piercing place.
Andromeda is a product of its environment. Nearby there are vintage clothing stores, vinyl emporiums, comic book shops, and punks everywhere. As we walked up the stairs, several of them commented that we were “walking the gauntlet” by walking between them. At least they didn’t spank us. Turn left at the top of the stairs (the right side is for tats), and you have entered World O’ Piercings. It’s dark, dingy, and there is a giant lit up “menu” (much like the ones in cheap Chinese restaurants) with pictures of all the piercings they do. I learned a lot about anatomy from those pictures.
I picked out a ring, and then was sent into the back room to be pierced. I could only take one person with me, so Lori sat out in front with some freaks, and Amanda went in to distract me. Maybe now I should talk about the guy that pierced me. He was medium height, white with brown dreds, some of which had rings looped into them. Normal enough for the Village. But if you looked at his face…he had blue dots of varying sizes tattooed in a pattern around his eyes. A lot like a raccoon. And he was pierced everywhere that was visible. Multiple piercings in his ears, in every conceivable direction, including a pair of discs in his earlobes that stretched them out. I guess it was supposed to be tribal. Piercings in his lips, in his nose, across the bridge of his nose, in his eyebrows. And then, the piece de resistance, his horns.
That’s right, he had horns. Little metal horns. As I laid back on the table and he put the guide marks on my bellybutton, I tried to make nervous small talk. I asked about the nose-bridge piercing. Apparently there was no cartilage involved in that, they just pull the skin away from the cartilage and pierce it. And then I asked the fateful question: “And what about those horns? How are they attached?” He said, I swear to God, “Oh, they’re implants.” WTF? You let someone drill fucking holes in your head to put in horns?
Now you’re going to ask what everyone asks. “Why would you let someone with horns pierce you?” Well, I could’ve run away. But I was already on the table, and marked up, and I figured “He’s got a lot of piercings, he should know about this.” So I let him pierce me as I squeezed the shit out of Amanda’s hand because it hurt. Worse than anything had ever hurt before. And when it was over, I had the feeling that my bellybutton wanted to reject the damn ring and spit it out. It definitely felt like something that didn’t belong there. I couldn’t really sit up for three days, because it hurt. And the waistband on my pants kept tugging at in, which hurt worse. But I was pierced, dammit.
While reading a tattoo magazine a couple of weeks later, I saw an ad for Andromeda. It listed the names of their crew. Normal names, like Mike and Karl. And then there was the abnormal name. Virus. I thought of crazy piercing guy with his raccoon facial tattoos and his horns, and I just knew. Mike and Karl hadn’t pierced me. Noooo.
I had been pierced by Virus.
What I did on my 22nd birthday September 28, 2004 ~ 2:23 pm
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closed
I did that. I went to my alma mater for Homecoming Weekend, because my two best friends were still attending school there, and we drove to Erie, PA, and went to a spiffy little Quonset hut called “Buddha’s Body Art.” And my friend Kim L. and I got tattooed. She got the Tibetan symbol for “Om” tattooed on her lower back. I got a Def Leppard tattoo on my inner right ankle.
Those of you who are Lep fans probably already know where I got this design from. I’m not the only one who has it, or some variation of it. I took the triangle from the cover of Hysteria and the star from the cover of Slang, combined them, and there you have it. I had spent the night before in Johnstown watching da Leps play on the next to last show of the Euphoria tour.
You want to know what I remember most about the whole tattoo experience? Not so much that the girl who was there ahead of us had to get up three times to puke (she hadn’t eaten that morning and I guess the pain of getting a giant Winnie the Pooh tattooed on her calf was wearing on her). Not so much that to see if I could “take the pain” the tattoo artist took the needle for a little trip around my ankle without ink in it (all of the pain, no half-tattooed leg to be stuck with if I was a wus). Nor yet the whole “I am making the biggest mistake of my life here, and Mom’s gonna kill me when I show this to her.” queasy feeling I got prior to sitting in the chair. Not even the guy who, when I told him where I wanted my tattoo, said “You ever had a tattoo before? No? Well you’d better sit goddamned still.” (apparently near bones are not a great place to get tattooed your first time out).
While I obviously remember all of that, what I remember most is this: my dumbass friends (and I say this with love, Kim and Dawn) running around outside the window I was facing to take my mind off the needle. They weren’t allowed back in the tattoo area to hold my hand, so they did what they could. I love my friends.
And I also loved my free bumper sticker that said “Buddha’s Body Art: Hell, yeah, it hurt!” Wonder where that went?
Poll: Straight or Curly? September 27, 2004 ~ 10:16 pm
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closedAm I going to regret this? Probably. But here we go anyway. Photobucket has miraculously risen, and even more miraculously, I managed to get all my photos uploaded. Yay, me. And now you get to pick: straight or curly. We’re voting on the hair here, kids, and not mentioning the fact that the lighting in the second picture makes me look tired and haggard. Well, it only makes me look haggard. I actually was tired.
Oh, and if you’re good, you get my tattoo picture tomorrow.
Straight (taken the afternoon it was done):
And curly, (taken two days later at 1am):
Wow, I’m serious looking…
Rick Shaw’s rickshaws September 27, 2004 ~ 10:58 am
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closedAn example of the bizarre things my boyfriend thinks of:
Yesterday as we were walking through Central Park, we passed a rickshaw driver and had this conversation.
Rick: “I was thinking, when I picked out my stage name, I should have picked “Rick Shaw,” because then I could go and buy a bunch of rickshaws, and they would be “Rick Shaw’s rickshaws” and I would be famous all around the country for my rickshaw franchise.”
Julie: “You were really proud of yourself for coming up with that one, weren’t you?”
Rick: “Not really, because it was so easy.”
WTF??? Who thinks of these things besides him? Nobody! How is it easy? He keeps me entertained, I’ll give him that much.
No pictures September 27, 2004 ~ 1:41 am
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closedWhy are there no pictures of Julie’s hair up, either straight or curly? Why is there no picture of her Def Leppard tattoo? Why are there no pictures of New York City here? Because fucking Photobucket has decided to have network problems. Blame them. I finally got my act together and had everything sized, named, and ready to upload. But could they hold up their part of the bargain? No. Bastards.
Klumpy the Wonder-Post September 24, 2004 ~ 10:41 am
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closedI know no one is going to comment on this morning’s Michael Moore post, but I felt compelled to put it out there. Call me a masochist. But I’m also a comment whore, so I’m writing a post that you will actually read and write about, saying “You’re a damn Yellow Dog Democrat, but you’re still pretty funny.” Or something like that.
So I just heard on the radio that the Humane Society has decided grapes and raisins are bad to feed to dogs. Apparently they’re toxic and can cause vomiting, kidney failure, and death. Right up there with chocolate, onions, and aspirin (or was it Tylenol) as “Things that will kill your dog, you dumb shit not-responsible-enough-to-be-a-dog-owner”. I know I gave the Fruit Bat (there’s an archive post about my golden retriever somewhere, but I don’t know how to link to it) grapes at least once in her life, possibly more than once. Because it was funny to watch her try to eat a round slippery fruit. She couldn’t wrap those doggie lips around it, so she’d spit it out, give it the evil eye for having the nerve to jump out of her mouth, because that’s what happened, obviously, and try again, and again, and again. And finally a tooth would perforate it and she’d manage to eat it. And then she’d look at me and beg for another because she was such a clever dog that she could eat jumping foods, sis. (Words in bold are Brandy the Fruit Bat’s thoughts. Clearly.) So I gave her more. It was funny. And we didn’t know they were bad for her. I also fed her fried wontons from the Chinese restaurant. And cheese. And don’t even get me started on the time I threw lunchmeat into her water bowl by virtue of bad aim, and she dove in after it to get that turkey! and little bubbles came out of her nose the whole way to the bottom of the bowl like she was snorkeling. Because of course I had to throw more turkey in there, because snorkeling dogs are funny, dammit!
What I’m trying to say is, so what if grapes are bad for your dog? No, not really. But my dog ate a bunch of crap she shouldn’t have (including a Brillo pad), and she made it to the ripe old age of 15. And the Dumbest Dog On Earth (surprisingly, not my Fruit Bat, but Rick’s kids’ dog, Rosie) once ate an entire bag of sugar free Reeses’ miniature peanut butter cups that a dieting aunt had left out, and although she puked a bit, she’s still alive. So maybe what I’m trying to say is this: Dogs. A lot tougher than you’d think. Hell, if dogs have survived until now with stupid humans feeding them grapes, I think they’ll be just fine.
This was going to be a clump post with many different things in it. Unfortunately, I got stuck on stories about dogs. But I like the title too much to change it. So deal.
Michael Moore makes me smile September 24, 2004 ~ 9:54 am
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closedMichael Moore does it again, this time saying what I’ve been saying for months. Hopefully, someone will listen to him.
Dear Mr. Bush,
I am so confused. Where exactly do you stand on the issue of Iraq? You, your Dad, Rummy, Condi, Colin, and Wolfie — you have all changed your minds so many times, I am out of breath just trying to keep up with you!Which of these 10 positions that you, your family and your cabinet have taken over the years represents your CURRENT thinking:
1983-88: WE LOVE SADDAM. On December 19, 1983, Donald Rumsfeld was sent by your dad and Mr. Reagan to go and have a friendly meeting with Saddam Hussein, the dictator of Iraq. Rummy looked so happy in the picture. Just twelve days after this visit, Saddam gassed thousands of Iranian troops. Your dad and Rummy seemed pretty happy with the results because The Donald R. went back to have another chummy hang-out with Saddams right-hand man, Tariq Aziz, just four months later. All of this resulted in the U.S. providing credits and loans to Iraq that enabled Saddam to buy billions of dollars worth of weapons and chemical agents. The Washington Post reported that your dad and Reagan let it be known to their Arab allies that the Reagan/Bush administration wanted Iraq to win its war with Iran and anyone who helped Saddam accomplish this was a friend of ours.
1990: WE HATE SADDAM. In 1990, when Saddam invaded Kuwait, your dad and his defense secretary, Dick Cheney, decided they didn’t like Saddam anymore so they attacked Iraq and returned Kuwait to its rightful dictators.
1991: WE WANT SADDAM TO LIVE. After the war, your dad and Cheney and Colin Powell told the Shiites to rise up against Saddam and we would support them. So they rose up. But then we changed our minds. When the Shiites rose up against Saddam, the Bush inner circle changed its mind and decided NOT to help the Shiites. Thus, they were massacred by Saddam
.
1998: WE WANT SADDAM TO DIE. In 1998, Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz and others, as part of the Project for the New American Century, wrote an open letter to President Clinton insisting he invade and topple Saddam Hussein.
2000: WE DON’T BELIEVE IN WAR AND NATION BUILDING. Just three years later, during your debate with Al Gore in the 2000 election, when asked by the moderator Jim Lehrer where you stood when it came to using force for regime change, you turned out to be a downright pacifist:
I–I would take the use of force very seriously. I would be guarded in my approach. I don’t think we can be all things to all people in the world. I think we’ve got to be very careful when we commit our troops. The vice president [Al Gore] and I have a disagreement about the use of troops. He believes in nation building. I–I would be very careful about using our troops as nation builders. I believe the role of the military is to fight and win war and, therefore, prevent war from happening in the first place. And so I take my–I take my–my responsibility seriously. –October 3, 2000
2001 (early): WE DON’T BELIEVE SADDAM IS A THREAT. When you took office in 2001, you sent your Secretary of State, Colin Powell, and your National Security Advisor, Condoleezza Rice, in front of the cameras to assure the American people they need not worry about Saddam Hussein. Here is what they said:
Powell: We should constantly be reviewing our policies, constantly be looking at those sanctions to make sure that they have directed that purpose. That purpose is every bit as important now as it was 10 years ago when we began it. And frankly, they have worked. He has not developed any significant capability with respect to weapons of mass destruction. He is unable to project conventional power against his neighbors. –February 24, 2001
Rice: But in terms of Saddam Hussein being there, let’s remember that his country is divided, in effect. He does not control the northern part of his country. We are able to keep arms from him. His military forces have not been rebuilt. –July 29, 2001
2001 (late): WE BELIEVE SADDAM IS GOING TO KILL US! Just a few months later, in the hours and days after the 9/11 tragedy, you had no interest in going after Osama bin Laden. You wanted only to bomb Iraq and kill Saddam and you then told all of America we were under imminent threat because weapons of mass destruction were coming our way. You led the American people to believe that Saddam had something to do with Osama and 9/11. Without the UN’s sanction, you broke international law and invaded Iraq.
2003: WE DONT BELIEVE SADDAM IS GOING TO KILL US. After no WMDs were found, you changed your mind about why you said we needed to invade, coming up with a brand new after-the-fact reason — we started this war so we could have regime change, liberate Iraq and give the Iraqis democracy!
2003: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! Yes, everyone saw you say it — in costume, no less!
2004: OOPS. MISSION NOT ACCOMPLISHED! Now you call the Iraq invasion a “catastrophic success.” That’s what you called it this month. Over a thousand U.S. soldiers have died, Iraq is in a state of total chaos where no one is safe, and you have no clue how to get us out of there.
Mr. Bush, please tell us — when will you change your mind again?
I know you hate the words “flip” and “flop,” so I won’t use them both on you. In fact, I’ll use just one: Flop. That is what you are. A huge, colossal flop. The war is a flop, your advisors and the “intelligence” they gave you is a flop, and now we are all a flop to the rest of the world. Flop. Flop. Flop.
And you have the audacity to criticize John Kerry with what you call the “many positions” he has taken on Iraq. By my count, he has taken only one: He believed you. That was his position. You told him and the rest of congress that Saddam had WMDs. So he — and the vast majority of Americans, even those who didn’t vote for you — believed you. You see, Americans, like John Kerry, want to live in a country where they can believe their president.
That was the one, single position John Kerry took. He didn’t support the war, he supported YOU. And YOU let him and this great country down. And that is why tens of millions can’t wait to get to the polls on Election Day — to remove a major, catastrophic flop from our dear, beloved White House — to stop all the flipping you and your men have done, flipping us and the rest of the world off.
We can’t take another minute of it.
Yours,
Michael Moore
mmflint@aol.com
www.michaelmoore.com
I just got my hair cut September 23, 2004 ~ 2:25 pm
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closedAnd it’s short. Once a month, the college I work at has students from a local Beauty School come in. They’re close to graduation, and they need the hours working on live people. So they do the whole shebang for free. This is the third time I’ve gone. It looks good.
That’s right, it looks good. I’ve gotten compliments from 5 people in the 20 minutes I’ve been back in the office. It’s chin length now (I got about 2 inches chopped off all around), and it’s cute. Kind of like a bob. So maybe I can buy one of those cloche (sp?) hats I’ve been admiring in Macy’s windows and not look ridiculous in it.
There is one minor detail…she blew dry my hair out. What’s the big deal? I never blow dry my hair. I hop out of the shower, towel dry it, brush it once, and I’m off. So right now my hair is straight. We’ll see how it looks tomorrow when the curls come back.
Points to Ponder…Polls September 23, 2004 ~ 10:29 am
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closedOkay, I’m borrowing the message Michael Moore sent his mailing list this morning for my first blog message of the day. If you normally ignore everything Mr. Moore says because he’s kind of rabid, I got ya. He’s kind of off the deep-end in places in this post, too. But I ask that you take those with a grain of salt and read it anyway. He’s got some good points, especially about those of us who use our cell phones as a primary number (Steph and me). So without further ado, points to ponder about recent polls, as written by Michael Moore:
Dear Friends,
Enough of the handwringing! Enough of the doomsaying! Do I have to come there and personally calm you down? Stop with all the defeatism, OK? Bush IS a goner — IF we all just quit our whining and bellyaching and stop shaking like a bunch of nervous ninnies. Geez, this is embarrassing! The Republicans are laughing at us. Do you ever see them cry, “Oh, it’s all over! We are finished! Bush can’t win! Waaaaaa!”
Hell no. It’s never over for them until the last ballot is shredded. They are never finished — they just keeping moving forward like sharks that never sleep, always pushing, pulling, kicking, blocking, lying.
They are relentless and that is why we secretly admire them — they just simply never, ever give up. Only 30% of the country calls itself “Republican,” yet the Republicans own it all — the White House, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court and the majority of the governorships. How do you think they’ve been able to pull that off considering they are a minority? It’s because they eat you and me and every other liberal for breakfast and then spend the rest of the day wreaking havoc on the planet.
Look at us — what a bunch of crybabies. Bush gets a bounce after his convention and you would have thought the Germans had run through Poland again. The Bushies are coming, the Bushies are coming! Yes, they caught Kerry asleep on the Swift Boat thing. Yes, they found the frequency in Dan Rather and ran with it. Suddenly it’s like, “THE END IS NEAR! THE SKY IS FALLING!”
No, it is not. If I hear one more person tell me how lousy a candidate Kerry is and how he can’t win… Dammit, of COURSE he’s a lousy candidate — he’s a Democrat, for heavens sake! That party is so pathetic, they even lose the elections they win! What were you expecting, Bruce Springsteen heading up the ticket? Bruce would make a helluva president, but guys like him don’t run — and neither do you or I. People like Kerry run.
Yes, OF COURSE any of us would have run a better, smarter, kick-ass campaign. Of course we would have smacked each and every one of those phony swifty boaty bastards down. But WE are not running for president — Kerry is. So quit complaining and work with what we have. Oprah just gave 300 women a… Pontiac! Did you see any of them frowning and moaning and screaming, “Oh God, NOT a friggin’ Pontiac!” Of course not, they were happy. The Pontiacs all had four wheels, an engine and a gas pedal. You want more than that, well, I can’t help you. I had a Pontiac once and it lasted a good year. And it was a VERY good year.
My friends, it is time for a reality check.
1. The polls are wrong. They are all over the map like diarrhea. On Friday, one poll had Bush 13 points ahead — and another poll had them both tied. There are three reasons why the polls are b.s.: One, they are polling “likely voters.” “Likely” means those who have consistently voted in the past few elections. So that cuts out young people who are voting for the first time and a ton of non-voters who are definitely going to vote in THIS election. Second, they are not polling people who use their cell phone as their primary phone. Again, that means they are not talking to young people. Finally, most of the polls are weighted with too many Republicans, as pollster John Zogby revealed last week. You are being snookered if you believe any of these polls.
2. Kerry has brought in the Clinton A-team. Instead of shunning Clinton (as Gore did), Kerry has decided to not make that mistake.
3. Traveling around the country, as I’ve been doing, I gotta tell ya, there is a hell of a lot of unrest out there. Much of it is not being captured by the mainstream press. But it is simmering and it is real. Do not let those well-produced Bush rallies of angry white people scare you. Turn off the TV! (Except Jon Stewart and Bill Moyers — everything else is just a sugar-coated lie).
4. Conventional wisdom says if the election is decided on “9/11″ (the fear of terrorism), Bush wins. But if it is decided on the job we are doing in Iraq, then Bush loses. And folks, that “job,” you might have noticed, has descended into the third level of a hell we used to call Vietnam. There is no way out. It is a full-blown mess of a quagmire and the body bags will sadly only mount higher. Regardless of what Kerry meant by his original war vote, he ain’t the one who sent those kids to their deaths — and Mr. and Mrs. Middle America knows it. Had Bush bothered to show up when he was in the “service” he might have somewhat of a clue as to how to recognize an immoral war that cannot be “won.” All he has delivered to Iraq was that plasticized turkey last Thanksgiving. It is this failure of monumental proportions that is going to cook his goose come this November.
So, do not despair. All is not over. Far from it. The Bush people need you to believe that it is over. They need you to slump back into your easy chair and feel that sick pain in your gut as you contemplate another four years of George W. Bush. They need you to wish we had a candidate who didn’t windsurf and who was just as smart as we were when WE knew Bush was lying about WMD and Saddam planning 9/11. It’s like Karl Rove is hypnotizing you — “Kerry voted for the war…Kerry voted for the war…Kerrrrrryyy vooootted fooooor theeee warrrrrrrrrr…”
Yes…Yes…Yesssss…He did! HE DID! No sense in fighting now…what I need is sleep…sleeep…sleeeeeeppppp…
WAKE UP! The majority are with us! More than half of all Americans are pro-choice, want stronger environmental laws, are appalled that assault weapons are back on the street — and 54% now believe the war is wrong. YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TO CONVINCE THEM OF ANY OF THIS — YOU JUST HAVE TO GIVE THEM A RAY OF HOPE AND A RIDE TO THE POLLS. CAN YOU DO THAT? WILL YOU DO THAT?
Just for me, please? Buck up. The country is almost back in our hands. Not another negative word until Nov. 3rd! Then you can bitch all you want about how you wish Kerry was still that long-haired kid who once had the courage to stand up for something. Personally, I think that kid is still inside him. Instead of the wailing and gnashing of your teeth, why not hold out a hand to him and help the inner soldier/protester come out and defeat the forces of evil we now so desperately face. Do we have any other choice?
Yours,
Michael Moore
www.michaelmoore.com
mmflint@aol.com
Trips to the ER September 22, 2004 ~ 3:39 pm
Posted by Julie in : Daily Grind , comments closedSince we’re all self-proclaimed klutzes around here (read the comments from the previous post), I figured I’d tell you a little story about how I ended up in the ER with head/facial injuries three times in one month when I was 8. Yes, I am just that much of a klutz. Sometimes. Sometimes I can be very graceful, and then suddenly I will enter into an “awkward phase” and be covered in bumps and bruises. But onto the story.
I was going through one of those “awkward phases” when I was 8. Most of this is hazy in my memory, so Mom, feel free to correct me - you probably remember it better than I do.
Two of the incidents involved falls down flights of stairs. One down our interior stairs from the top of the second floor, one down the concrete stairs in front of our house. I don’t remember the interior stair trip, possibly because it wasn’t the first time I’d gone down them (I decided when I was about three that I could bring a chair down the steps and called my mom to come watch. I think she got her first grey hair that day as I rolled down.) The outer stairs I remember because I was dizzy and suddenly my feet were all tangled up in each other and I was on the sidewalk on my face. The third injury of that month happened on the playground at school when a bigger kid pushed me down.
Here’s the fun part. In all three falls, my body made contact with the ground at three points. My knee, my nose, and my forehead. Every damn time. As one scrape would start to heal, I’d mess it up again. I think I broke my nose twice that month, and learned that frozen peas in a latex glove (mom’s a nurse) conform to the shape of your broken nose and make it feel better. I also learned that concussions make you want to sleep and your mother won’t let you. But perhaps the most important thing I learned is what not to say at the hospital.
See, when you bring a child to the ER three times in one month, the doctors start to get suspicious. As a matter of course, they ask the child how they got hurt, to make sure there isn’t any child abuse going on. I was a shy little kid, totally unlike the extrovert I am now, mostly due to the evil nuns at the Catholic school I went to till second grade (that’s a story in and of itself). Anyway, I didn’t like talking to strangers, and got very nervous about them. I knew what had happened to me, but had no idea how to answer the question. How do you tell a perfect stranger you got pushed on the playground? Fortunately, I had my lifeline. My mom was in the room, she would make it better. Completely innocently, I looked at her and said “What was I supposed to say again, Mommy?” She looked at me and laughed and said “Tell them you won’t see me again, because they’re going to put me away for a long, long time.”
Fortunately, the ER doc could take a joke, and I was released with a slightly broader nose where it broke and a Beaver Valley Medical Center coloring book for my pains. But ever since I’ve always thought twice before answering a doctor’s questions.
