Friday, May 30, 2014

A Nose For Dallas.

Not long ago, I had an experience that left me thinking, "Well, that only happens in Dallas." Before you get stereotypical, it did not involve a cowboy, cowboy hats, cowboy boots, or the Dallas Cowboys.

No, this involved my nose.

Before moving here friends warned me I didn't wear enough make-up or have enough of a predisposition for plastic surgery for Dallas. I laughed, wondering if they were serious and wondering where I would make my home if a make-up and/or plastic surgery requirement would ban me from entering the city limits.

I needn't have worried.

A few weeks ago, at a cavity-filling appointment, the dental hygienist said, "I LOVE your nose!"

Confusion took over my face. Why was she referring to my nose the way some people refer to shoes?

"Hmmmmm," I thought to myself, 'I've been working out' or 'it's just because I'm breastfeeding' don't seem like appropriate responses for this one. Do I say 'thanks' or do I need to get into genetics??"

She completed her thought before I started stammering.

"It looks so natural!!"

And then I realized, she didn't think it was real. Now very unsure how to respond, I gave her a closed-mouth smile and waited for the exam to begin.

If only my friends who warned me about Dallas could see me now. I suppose they were right. My realness is apparently so real it borders on faux and for that I've been accepted! Oh, Dallas. Do I laugh or cry? I just don't know.

Happy Friday and may all your noses be real.

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