Thursday, July 14, 2005


Way back when....when I was paid to work, I surrounded myself with friends that were in the same field I was. Food. We could talk restaurants, food, catering and shopping for hours on end. It was fun.

Now that I have situated myself way down in Mayberry, my friends and neighbors are a more eclectic bunch. There are engineers, doctors, therapists, teachers, psychologists, nurses, dentists and real estate agents to name just a few. I now have to expand my horizon of subjects to discuss since not everyone is obsessed with food like I am. Bummer.

Have you ever been talking to a dentist friend and thinking to yourself, "Is he/she looking at how yellow and crooked my teeth are?" Or maybe you have a therapist friend and think, "Is he/she picking up on how really emotionally fucked up I am?"

My Father-in-Law is a writer. My Mother-in-Law has a doctorate in linguistics. Sometimes I am just paralyzed to speak in front of them. When I do, it goes something like this, "There ain't nothin bad down in that them hole. The mices have skeedaddled outta there." After I speak, I'm literally covering my mouth and running for the nearest door.

The worst kind of friend for me to have is one who makes his/her living doing active things. Physical Education Teachers, Personal Trainers etc. There is no doubt in my mind they are judging me as I speak. I am a lost cause in the workout arena in life. Okay, sure. I can't run to the corner without having an asthma attack. I can't do more than three sit-ups in a repetition and I literally get winded just talking about marathons. And I can feel their eyes burning holes through my flabby little non-existent muscles the whole time I am talking to them. When my physical friends speak to me, I am thinking....."Why are they so perky?" "Why do they have to have perfect tans and cute little workout clothes?" "If I worked out, would I become perky?" I leave conversations with these people having no idea what they said. I have spent the entire conversation thinking about what I would look like if I were healthy. They could tell me my dog was dead and they just put a dent in my car. It wouldn't even register.

So I guess I must expand my horizons a little. I could tell my dentist friends that this is the best they could do on my mouth after they removed my dead twin from my face. I could tell my therapist/psychologist friends that electric shock therapy helped a bunch and the doctors are looking in to upping my doses of lithium. I could tell my physical friends that I'm doing extremely well considering the polio I had as a child. Maybe then we can get back to talking about the important things in

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