What up Doc?

He changed my surgery date. Less than two weeks before it was scheduled. Basically, they messed up on the calendar, not realizing that his schmancy surgery with a bunch of European doctors was the same week. So, he's telling me that an out-of-state groundbreaking surgery with a team of international specialists takes precedence over my tata swap? That's what I'm up against? Okay, fine. If they were American doctors I would've put my foot down. But, Europeans are another story. I suppose these American breastesses can wait 13 days. But these deformed, stretched to capacity tennis ball balloons are not happy indeed. This puts off my post-surgery Neiman's retail therapy plan as well.

He apologized profusely; I said, "It's okay. Just throw in some Botox and we'll call it even."

"Hahaha."

"I'm just kidding." (I'm not kidding. I'll remind him as I'm being wheeled into the OR.)

Seriously though, now Brother must change both his airline ticket and his work schedule, mom must rejigger her work schedule, and poor dad rearranged court dates and other impt things and now must reconfigure everything.

I think all that probably equals the price of some Botox. As it turns out, I'm fine with this new schedule. It gives me more time to get my sorry-ass body into fighting shape. Aside from my jeans being happy about this proposition, it's actually an important factor. The better my physical condition is--as it was pre-chemo--the more realistic I can be about the size of my implants. Meaning, this extra 7-10 lbs I'm lugging around must go so that I can see how the implants will look relative to my size. When I get back to my normal size, I may reckon that a slightly smaller CC implant will be more proportionate to my body type.

Anyway, I'm still languishing in Jax with the doggies and the yard and the old friends. My car is in the shop for it's annual physical, and I got a really nifty loaner, a spanking new C300. I hate my car, but this model is so sweet I'm wondering what would happen if I just got on I-95 with it and never looked back. It might be worth driving a car with "Brumos Motor Cars" splashed across the rear window if it meant a brand-new benz. This rationale is naturally in direct conflict with my recent musings that I want to trade in my gas-guzzling German ride for a lower-priced, Japanese car since I hardly drive. I never claimed not to be a hypocrite. But this whole $65-to-fill-my-tank thing makes me sick. It literally turns my stomach. Everytime I fill up, I am filled with disgust thinking, 'Great, another $65 for the terrorists and Bush. Whopee. Fuck those bastards!!!!!!!' Talk about road rage. And FUUUUUUUUCK you Bush. I hope you trip on your way off the podium when you relinquish your throne to a liberal.