Can we pause for a moment and talk about the man sitting across from me on the subway this evening? Can we talk about the fact that he APPEARED normal and polite and sane UNTIL he busted out a Q-tip and proceeded to CLEAN OUT HIS RIGHT EAR!? With the train in motion. With a crowded subway car full of people. I just, no. Let’s not pause or talk about it. It really was only worth a mention. The Hell!?

Can we talk about the fact that I’m flickr-ing pictures!? Pretty pictures! They are actually a YEAR’S worth of pictures I stole off my family digital camera. Therefore, when uploaded onto flickr you get MY college graduation and instantly, Tom’s graduation a YEAR later! Also includes pics of my sister’s prom and a few random photos of my siblings and I sitting on a couch, giving “Why The Hell Are You Taking My Picture?” looks. They are GOOD photos, people.

I love that I upload pictures at 12:30 in the morning. It’s an exciting task that I can’t seem to put a stop to and go to bed even though I’M SO FREAKING TIRED. Can we talk about that? Did we talk about that already? Well. We briefly discussed my awful audition in a previous post. OH! I promised to discuss Muffin the realtor with all of you.

Condensed Story: I went with my roommate to Westhampton to help her tidy up the house she’s going to be nannying in this summer. Muffin, the realtor, was there. Her God-given name is Muffin. I’m not lying. I COULD NOT MAKE THAT UP. She has a thick Virginian accent and I’m still not sure how she ended up renting real estate in the Hamptons, even though I talked to her way more than was necessary.

We discussed nannying, the Hampton beaches, my Long Island roots and also, my budding acting career. At one point, Muffin turned to me and drawled,

“So, tell me Laura, is this acting thing as hard as everyone says it is?”

Honestly, what do you tell someone who asks you such an ignorant question? You could go on and on about how you’re an ARTIST and how you create ART and how DEEP it all is. But really, why? Especially after the week I had, I wanted to tell her that I stand in front of people and they judge me based on my looks and I go home and run 4 miles. Or perhaps mention that I often get up at 6 am and wait in line for just 30 seconds to sing a song that the accompanist can’t play and on Monday I forgot the lyrics and it was mortifying. Or maybe just casually mention that I never quite feel good enough and always feel behind, running to catch up.

But why bother? Instead I told her it was pretty darn easy and that she should give it a shot. Why not? With a name like Muffin, I think she has a pretty good chance.

Moving on again! Can we also discuss my doctor appointment this past Wednesday?

Soooo as some of you know, a few months ago, I had a regular medical check-up and some stuff went wrong. The words “lump in right breast” entered my vocabulary and then were followed up with scary Grown-Up phrases like “sonogram” and “biopsy” and “Give Us Your Co-Pay Or We Will Kill You!”. I was never 100% concerned and neither were the doctors. I have no family history of breast cancer and I’m also relatively young. I DO have fibrocystic breast disease which will probably account for tons more cysts showing up in the near and distant future. HOWEVER, on Wednesday, I had a sonogram to see what the measly little lump was up to.

I put on a royal blue gown that opened in the front and was really, a site to behold. You know, if you ever think you’re getting a little sure of yourself or a little too confident or feeling a little too pretty? You might try putting on a bright blue paper hospital gown that leaves your entire upper body exposed, while keeping your running shorts and sneakers on. Let me tell you, it is a HUMBLING experience to catch sight of yourself in the mirror. It’s a huge FASHION VICTIM slap in the face, believe you me.

SO. After dressing myself to the nines, I got smeared with that awful jelly goo and the technician performed the sonogram. (I say “performed” because while she was just routinely moving a piece of metal around my lubricated body, she did it with a bit of FLAIR!) I don’t know WHAT I’m going to do when I have a sonogram to see one of my unborn children because just the fact that I saw my BREAST TISSUE on the screen in black and white squiggly lines was downright FASCINATING TO ME. My fatty tissue! My very own! On a SCREEN! Oh joy! I’m pretty much the most amazing living creature ever to grace the planet!

ANYWAY. The doctor came in after looking at the pictures and told me, get this: THAT MY LUMP HAD…

DISAPPEARED!!!!!!!!!!!!

You heard me. The nasty nearly cancerous lump was INEXPLICABLY GONE!

VANISHED!

POOF!

Granted, there was another lump somewhere else that had popped up but REGARDLESS. She doesn’t think it’s serious and so *I* don’t think it’s serious and the lesson here is NOT that breast tissue looks awesome during a sonogram OR that I will have cysts everywhere for the rest of my life (hopefully, all benign). NO NO NO the lesson learned here folks is that I HAVE MAGICAL BREASTS.

They are full of wizardlike mystical powers. Seriously. The lump DISAPPEARED, y’all! Vaporated into thin air! I know I should be jumping up and down about my lack of cancer but seriously? The fact that I possess MAGICAL POWERS just kinds of strikes me down in silenced awe.

You too, right?

I knew it.