Wednesday, July 01, 2009

A Nose By Any Other Name...

I want a nose job. I know, I know. I don't approve of plastic surgery. And I really don't. Find the character to transcend your flaws is what I alway say, and shake what yer mama gave ya.

But I can't stand my nose. I'm pretty sure an ex-ray of it would reveal internal complications so whorled and maze-like and deviant, that a cottage cheese covered, anal sex receiving porcupine fetishist would shudder in ecstatic loathing and revulsion. Half-Jewish, and half-horrid-Scottish-bulbous-rosacea, it's as if the two genes collided then tried to run off screaming before they were frozen in stern, unyielding cartilage.

For such an offending appendage, it doesn't look that crooked. But it is. You should see the nose pads of my glasses. Mind-blowingly off center. One is somewhat straight and the other veers waaaaay off to the side and twists back.

But you should see it when I cry. For most people, women at least, crying is cathartic. But not for me. Actually, I don't know if it is or not because the physical effects of a good cry are so awful. My sinuses swell to the point where I can't breathe through my nose at all and a headache goes without saying. And it lasts for days. At least 4 days after a good cry, you can tell I've had a good cry. It's very aggravating.

Really, there's no point to this at all. I just wanted to write something.

1 comment:

Roismhaire said...

Actually, there is a point to it. The very fact that you wrote " whorled and maze-like and deviant, that a cottage cheese covered, anal sex receiving porcupine fetishist would shudder in ecstatic loathing and revulsion." made it worth writing and reading!
Plus everyone needs to be able to have a good cry without having to think of a headache that lasts for days - sympathies!