Wow almost 7 days with no complaint? Let’s interrupt this unnatural streak right this minute.
For half the day today, the left side of my face looked exactly like a dripping candle with an eye on it. Or like a wax rendition of my face had gotten a little too close to the wood stove, if you can picture what I mean. This is as close as I have ever been (and God willing will ever be) to looking like a stroke victim. Scary shit, people.
This is all because I was a sissy at the dentist and she had to up my allotted dosage of Novocain. So in exchange for no pain I got to look like Quasimodo. A no-brainer.
When this is over, and as I’m attempting a discreet exit out of the dentist office, I am stopped by one of the ladies who works there. She wants to tell me in person that she read Hidden in Paris and loved it! She totally got it, identified with the characters and says she feels like she has actually visited Paris!
I am, at that point in complete Writer Heaven. But due to the Novocain I look disgruntled and out of sorts instead: half of my face grinning and the other half frozen into an atrocious grimace. A face that looked as though it could start dripping down to the floor any minute now.
This was my first time ever meeting a fan face to face (or face to half a face) I was so thrilled I hugged her twice and would have hugged her more had I not looked so creepy. She absolutely made my day and I’d like to put on record that yes it is possible to beam with pride and joy while at the same time suffering from intense shame and self-loathing.
Be glad, ladies: there will be no picture to illustrate this post.