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Excuse me one minute while I make an authorial decision. Okay. Yeah. I think I'ma do this in the opposite order than originally planned. Work backwards, as it were. Okay. Here we go.

I went to the gynecologist again this morning and, again, my blood pressure was up, even though it was normal at my PCP's office five days ago. But you know what? For the second time in a row, the nurse was this very brusque older Russian lady who kind of barks at you, and I honestly think she freaks me right the fuck out. So my GYN was kind of frowning in concern that my blood pressure was up the last time and up again this time, and I was laughing and saying, "I swear, it was just fine at Dr B's on Thursday." She says, also laughing, "Are you trying to tell me something?" And I was this close --this close--to saying, "Oh, no, it's not you. It's your assistant. I think she's gonna send me to the gulag. Can't I have the nice little girl who looked like she should still be in high school that I used to get? I liked her." But, y'know, I figured that would be way politically incorrect. Or something.

In other gynecological news, my doctor complimented my bra. It makes me think that all the endless talk about boundaries they ceaselessly drummed into me in massage school was, um, overkill. When my gynecologist, moments away from putting her hand up my hooha, feels perfectly okay with telling me that my underwear is pretty, I probably don't have to actually worry about anything I would say to a client being inappropriate. (And, no, telling me my underwear is pretty is not always just one step away from getting your hand up my hooha. Shut up.)

In other other news, the vivid dreaming is back. I had a dream the night before last that one of my teeth fell out, and I woke up feeling my tooth with my tongue to make sure it was there. I know that losing a tooth or teeth is one of those supposedly common dream motifs that's supposed to have some kind of symbolic meaning, but I couldn't be arsed to look it up. I'm just thinking that this dream would have made a lot more sense to have had last night when I fell asleep to Amy Winehouse on replay on the iPod. Just saying, that's all.

And in other, non-goofy news, it came to my conscious attention recently that someone to whom I am close cannot just let go and trust me in a certain situation, and this has been taking up far more real estate in my brain than it should. Not that I am in any way hurt or upset about it. More...perplexed. It makes me realize just how much of my self-image is tied up in being the Trustworthy One and having other people very easily recognize that. (Just for one example, you people have *no* idea the things people tell me--including, occasionally, a thing or two I wish I didn't know--because they rightly deduce, "Oh, Andrea can keep a confidence and she won't judge me.") So realizing that someone who has known me a long time, and not in a casual fashion, has some trust issues with me has been puzzling and interesting.

Of course, the fact that I've spent even a second being puzzled over it means I have been totally ignoring Andrea's Second Law of Survival: "People's shit is about them, not about you" and its corollary: "Your shit is about you, and not about them." But I guess I am learning what some of *my* shit is about. That's always a good thing.

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xoxo