Tuesday, October 13, 2009

— Fiction —
Aspects of Myself I am Not Going to Change in This Age of Excessive Plastic Surgery

	My second toe: It is longer than the rest and I’ve heard this indicates some sort of genetic superiority.
	My shoulders: Because while they are strangely shaped and tend to curl forward unless I sit up straight, my current surgeon claims that any procedures he might use in an attempt to correct this gross abnormality could result in losing the use of my arms. This is a risk I am willing to take, but for some reason he is paranoid about lawsuits.
	My breasts: Because I have already had them enlarged. Six times.
	My forearms: I mean, they do look freakish but I tend to wear long sleeves due to my weird shoulders and the botched job my surgeon, three surgeons ago, did on my wrists. My lawyer tells me that I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics of this case while the verdict is still pending.
	My scalp: There is a two by two inch section of my scalp that is absolutely perfect; I am not kidding, everybody remarks on how the curvature is just right and how the hair growth is very regular. I have had reconstruction and hair implants on the surrounding sections of my scalp but I can honestly say that I am really comfortable with this part. The only annoying thing is figuring out what angle to hold the mirror so I can admire it.
	My left lung: I was born with a right lung shaped kind of like a sombrero, which wasn’t all that obvious to anyone but the MRI technician. But once I discovered this, I couldn’t go out in public. You know how it is—everyone’s his or her own biggest critic. Fortunately, the transplant was extremely successful. The left lung is shaped vaguely like a cactus, but my best friends have sworn to me, even after I’ve plied them with margaritas, that they cannot tell.
	My moustache: Absolutely off limits. I inherited this fuzzy little face pet from my grandmother and you couldn’t pay me money to kill … On second thought, I could use more donations for my kneecap reduction fund. They can apparently shave them down to the size of dimes!
	My self-esteem: I love myself and I think everyone should accept themselves exactly the way they are, plus or minus a few ribs (emphasis on the minus.) I see myself as a role model and an inspiration for everyone, especially young girls.

Jocelyn Jane Cox lives in New York City, When she is not writing, she works as a figure-skating coach and often refers to this as The Coldest Job in the Universe. Some of her other work can be found at CuspOfGreatness.com and CurrentSkateOfMind.com.