Untold Beloved

Have you ever looked into a skin-imaging machine?

If not, then I'm going to go ahead and recommend that you don't.

We hosted one this week, and as part of the Wellness Committee, I felt it was my personal duty to make sure that everyone was seeing the same leathery nightmare that I saw.

Basically, you sit down and stick your head inside a booth and there's a mirror and a black light. Your face is illuminated and you're looking down into a mirror and I can only imagine that I had the same feeling an aging Queen might feel if he were to stay at the Disco past his pumpkin hour.

This thing lights your face and you look for the dark patches and those are the places where you need to worry about cancer.

I didn't have any dark splotches but I am willing to guess that it's because my entire face is a giant purple cancer, just waiting to explode into malignant melanoma and take me away from my sweet doglet before I see her grow into an old lazy dog and before we retire to....
well, I would say Arizona but in many ways, I've already retired to Arizona.

Where blacklight once meant drugs and admiring my white teeth in the mirrors that shook a little from the pumping club noise; it now means something entirely different.
Blacklight showed me that my face is deader than the turkey jerky I had for my morning snack and that, possibly, I have cataracts starting.
And my teeth?
They're getting yellow.

So I checked with everyone else to see if they had the same shitty experience, natch.

"Hey! Did you do the skin thing? Wow, hoo-boy."
"Yeah. Mine showed that I have splotches on my nose and right under my eyes where my sunglasses touch my cheek."
"Hey! How was the skin thing? Did you do it?"
"My whole face was a dark patch. I love the sun."
"Meeeeeeee, tooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Surprisingly, most people are like me. they wear their sunscreen but they get tan and they've done it that way for life. They all saw the same rawhide bad dream that I saw and here's the conclusion:
If your whole face is a dark patch, then there isn't one place that's worse than another, which means there's no, like CANCER SPOT.

I made a dermatology appointment for June, anyway. I should probably make sure my theory is correct because if it's not, then a while bunch of people I work with are going to have face cancer all over and I better get the facts so I can let everyone know how to deal with that malady, early.

I am surprisingly NOT going to Derby tomorrow
It's a financial decision.
I've become obsessed with paying things off and I over-shot a little.
Which is good on the one hand, the hand that's paying shit off.
But on the hand that feeds me.... not so good. I plan to send Saturday being pissed off about having to go to the Grocery Outlet one last time before I get live according to my means.
And I may veto that idea and cruise on party-crashing for free food and cereal.

That way, I have coffee money and if there's no Derby for me this weekend, there's also no Coffee Man unless I go get coffee.
Ahh, Coffee Man, my untold beloved.
How do I love thee?
Let me discount the ways;
I'll never talk to you for real, so I don't have to be nervous around you.
You're all of 21 and I'm.... not.
You're beautiful in the rain.

But I think we probably need to talk, Coffee Man. I think I want more than to run away with you to New Mexico and live in a coffee stand with you and Rosie. As much as I dream about blue skies and wild mustangs when I think of you, I think that maybe I like mountains and pets better.
You know?

arizonasarah at 1:19 p.m.

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