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03-29-02 - 7:29 p.m. I was a hero again today. What is it about emergencies that makes people so stupid and useless? Is it shock? Disbelief? Fear? Uncertainty? And what is it about people like me that keeps emergencies from having an effect? Is it because I'm still so unattached from everything and everyone that I don't care enough to be concerned? Or am I just brave and quick-thinking? Today one of Adam's clients came in eating a hamburger. (P.S. It's really rude to eat your lunch as you enter a law office.) She was quite gregarious, muchly enjoying everything she saw. At first I was curious as to why such a cheerful woman would need legal assistance, but as her sugary attitude continued frothing, I realized I would want to sue her bubbly ass for aggravating the hell out of me. "Emotional distress," as the lawyers say. She kept talking about how her "mission in life is to spread happiness." Last night on Friends, Phoebe described her date (someone who could easily have been based on this woman) as "Santa Claus on Prozac at Disneyland having sex." How true. So she was laughing as she talked at me and suddenly began choking. At first I took no notice, but then asked if she was okay. She continued gasping for air, waving her hand at me as though in need of assistance. So I stood up, performed a neat little Heimlich, asked if she was alright, and sat back down. Later she had FTD deliver me half a dozen yellow roses, which I must say look very nice on my countertop. Enclosed in the bouquet was a note saying, "Thank you for saving my life. �Betsy" Highly unnecessary, however appreciated. It's not that today was a bad day. It's just that yesterday was a lot better. Quick rant: If you are someone who is, to use Margaret Cho phrasing, "greater than," then, I'm sorry, but that's not my fault. Nor is it my problem. Today another woman came in (luckily sans burger) who wasn't fat. The way I see it, you're fat if you can't get the hell out of bed. Seriously. You might not be skinny, but if you're skinny, you're likely flatchested, too, and that's really no better. This woman wasn't skinny. I'd say she was about 5'7" and something like 170 pounds. Big deal. She came up to me as I was returning from a break with a pear and a cup of coffee, looked me up and down, and made a hideous face. "Is something wrong?" I asked as innocently as I could. "I bet all you eat is fruit." "I had seven slices of pizza last night." (This is true.) "And you didn't vomit afterwards?" "No, Ma'am." "You know I used to be little like you are." "Okay." "But then I had a child." "I'm due in October." "Don't expect to keep your figure, then." "Okay." And she stormed off. I mean, what the fuck?! Am I supposed to feel sorry for her? I'll admit it, I have a really nice figure, but that's because I watch what I eat (sometimes...) and work out all the time. I don't let myself sleep unless I've done 100 sit-ups. I do Pilates. I jog. Everyone else can, too. I'm just sick and tired of not-skinny women getting all bitter and bent out of shape because I have a better figure. I'm also 18. My skin is taut, my breasts are perky, and my hair is natural. Deal with it! /End rant.
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