I have this squidgy thingy on my left eyelid. It reminds me of the lava flow from a volcano I saw once. The lava was turned into rock but it still looked like it did when it was coming down the hill. I have to put on my make-up using a #5 magnifying mirror so that squidgy thingy looks about an inch wide. When I'm talking to someone and they are looking at my eyes I'm sure they are thinking, 'Why doesn't she get that squidgy thingy on her eye removed. Hmmm, maybe she doesn't think it's noticeable. I will keep looking at it so she will know it's there.'
I got a skin tag frozen off the outer edge of my right eye last week, but Dr. Schulz (our dermatologist) said he couldn't do anything about the squidgy thingy. I have to go to Dr. Schulz all the time to get skin tags, moles and age spots frozen off. He just looks at me and says, "Are you ready for some pain?" So delicate. I told him beauty knows no pain and I will be coming to him until all of the squidgies all over my body are completely gone. I expected him to say something like, "Don't worry, a couple of years - look bettah." Kindly old Doctor Welby he's not. Instead he just grinned a devilish smile and said, "Good, because that means you'll be coming to me for the rest of your life."
And that's just my eyelids. There are things going on all over my body that if I had known about when I was sixteen, I probably would have crawled under the bed and curled up in the fetal position. The good thing about all of this is that my ability to deal with all of this physical stuff gets easier and easier in direct proportion to how much older I get. I guess God planned it that way.
Dr. Schulz says I am a breeding ground for these tiny little red dots that appear and then turn into small brown moles. I'm a big, redheaded Petri dish for these things that particularly like to live on my chest. Why couldn't they decide to appear on the bottoms of my feet...on my ass? Nobody has seen my ass in six years.
I have bigger moles in various places all over my bod. I have one right at my waist, one behind my ear and one on my back. I was watching "The Tudors" the other night and Anne Boleyn is in some deep trouble right now. King Henry the eighth doesn't like her any more and he has already found his next wife, Jane Seymour. Anyway, I think it was Oliver Cromwell ( oh, who cares) who mentioned to another courtier that Anne Boleyn was covered in moles. He said it was quite disgusting and she also had a sixth finger on one of her hands. If the Showtime series is any indication of what was really going in the palace bedrooms, Anne probably wore six-inch-high black patent heels, a black push-up bra and a dog collar with silver studs sticking out of it. Oh, Henry, you bad boy. But anyway, I digress from the fact that the courtier said moles were known as "the devil's tits." Mark my words, this is a factor that will play in Henry's riddance of the whore, Queen Anne.
