These Aren't The Droids You're Looking For
(begone, evil eye, begone!)
I am gripped by a certain superstitious paranoia (against speaking about certain things) and that is rendering me a blogger with not much to say. So I will treat you to a few odds and ends from my most assuredly odd mind.
1) The Red Menace Approaches
2) Huh?
3) Etiquette
At the beginning of the week, Cait and I went to Dr. Reserved's office, which is in a downtown medical building. The elevators conspired to run on very odd schedules, such that at 9:00 am as the lobby filled up with people, only one elevator arrived. The horde stuffed itself into its confines, and we ascended. About halfway up, I noticed someone gesturing oddly out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look, and discovered an old family friend of my parents'. Strangely, he was motioning shhhhhh! at me. Baffled, I stayed quiet, but kept turning his direction every few seconds. Every time, he made the same gesture. Just as I was about to say something, the elevator stopped at the floor before ours, and my acquaintance started to get off. As he moved away from the back of the elevator, the reason for his strange action became apparent in the form of his floppy-hatted, giant-shirt-shrouded wife whose face looked a bit like she'd been a little too close to the test range for the Manhattan Project.
So what is the etiquette for greeting someone after they've had cosmetic surgery, anyway? (I don't mean for when you bump into them in the elevator on the way to their doctor's for the post-op visit, I mean weeks later, when they look lovely, but, well, altered.) It seems awkward and impolite to say, "Hey, babe, niiiiice facelift!" or "Chemical peel or sandpaper? I'm in the market myself!" but NOT saying anything would seem to invalidate the thousands of dollars poured into the physician's boat.
Inquiring minds want to know.
And now, I'll return to my previously scheduled couch.
I am gripped by a certain superstitious paranoia (against speaking about certain things) and that is rendering me a blogger with not much to say. So I will treat you to a few odds and ends from my most assuredly odd mind.
1) The Red Menace Approaches
2) Huh?
3) Etiquette
At the beginning of the week, Cait and I went to Dr. Reserved's office, which is in a downtown medical building. The elevators conspired to run on very odd schedules, such that at 9:00 am as the lobby filled up with people, only one elevator arrived. The horde stuffed itself into its confines, and we ascended. About halfway up, I noticed someone gesturing oddly out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look, and discovered an old family friend of my parents'. Strangely, he was motioning shhhhhh! at me. Baffled, I stayed quiet, but kept turning his direction every few seconds. Every time, he made the same gesture. Just as I was about to say something, the elevator stopped at the floor before ours, and my acquaintance started to get off. As he moved away from the back of the elevator, the reason for his strange action became apparent in the form of his floppy-hatted, giant-shirt-shrouded wife whose face looked a bit like she'd been a little too close to the test range for the Manhattan Project.
So what is the etiquette for greeting someone after they've had cosmetic surgery, anyway? (I don't mean for when you bump into them in the elevator on the way to their doctor's for the post-op visit, I mean weeks later, when they look lovely, but, well, altered.) It seems awkward and impolite to say, "Hey, babe, niiiiice facelift!" or "Chemical peel or sandpaper? I'm in the market myself!" but NOT saying anything would seem to invalidate the thousands of dollars poured into the physician's boat.
Inquiring minds want to know.
And now, I'll return to my previously scheduled couch.
posted by Jen at
9:18 PM
5 Comments:
Hmmm...I was just talking with a friend about plastic surgery today. Not about having it, mind you, but about what happens after some time when gravity does what gravity does, and the plastic surgery needs to be...redone. I fear for people like Joan Rivers. Her ears are going to end up on top of her head if she has her face "lifted" any more!
But that's probably NOT what you should bring up to the newly altered.
I have a problem of my own in this area. My 25 year-old cousin just had her boobs "done." We all know about it, but she lives in Arizona so no one has seen her yet. I can see the family Christmas gathering now: Hey girl, nice jugs! Oh, Lord....
By
hd, at 12:24 AM
I think I would stick with "You look fantastic!" and let your friend/relative/whatever make the decision over whether to spill the beans regarding surgery or not. Either way you've validated the work done without being prying.
By
Anonymous, at 9:25 AM
You have to watch out for wet paint. If something isn't done about it...
Remind me to take a picture of the parking sign at the park and ride for you.
By
Brooke, at 11:14 AM
I'm glad you've decided to become Jewish! :)
(say a few Keinahora's every time you talk about the pregnancy - it shoos the evil eye away!)
And I'd just say "wow, you look great!"
And leave it at that...
xoxox,
S
By
Shelli, at 2:00 PM
Shel, I am sooo Jewish in some ways. I've been to more Seders of late than I have to church for big holidays! :) Apparently it runs in the family, too. A friend met my mom and later told me, "I didn't know your mom was Jewish...". And Judaism has a lot of what attracts me to religion in terms of culture, community, and ritual. (Note the lack of reference to belief & deity - hence, my problem with religions. Like everything but the God part....)
By
Jen, at 8:21 AM
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