My Day

I started my day at the dermatologist, where he biopsied yet another "freckle" on my skin, this time on my "chest." Ladies, stop tanning topless. It's not worth it. I get the results next week. Fingers crossed until then.

I ended the day talking to my older male gynecologist about the subtle nuances of the dialogue in Sex and the City (all six seasons) as well as our thoughts on both movies -- (he loved the first one and thought the second one was unnecessary.) He adores Cynthia Nixon and loves "the last episode of the season where Big goes to Napa." I quoted the last line from that episode verbatim and he lit up like a Christmas tree.

I asked him how it's possible that he's seen all six seasons of Sex and the City. His answer? "I'm on call in the hospital. A lot. For many hours at a time... ... and I really like that show. Remember the episode where the girls go to Miranda's mom's funeral? Aidan and Steve show up? Carrie gets up to walk next to Miranda in the church? That was just incredible."

Ladies and gentlemen, my weird little life continues...