Sunday, February 10, 2008


I have these. On both eyes. I've had one for a looooooooong time. The other more recently so.

I like the word.

Pin-gweck-you-lah. That's how it's said. At least by the optometrist who first told me what the cloudy yellow blip on my left eye was....

The new self portrait head shot thingy was my attempt to catch the pinguecula on film. Er, on digital image. You can sort of see it.

Do you think pinguecula sounds like some kind of vampiric presence?

Oh, also, I'm all tag moley. Some say it's part and parcel of the Scotch-Irish blood bearing out its lineage on my body, like a map of where some of my people come from.

They've multiplied by MUCH since having been pregnant with and having borne Ziggy. I have them on my eyelids, even.

Much to the horror of the young dermatologist who cut off a mole on my neck more than a year ago (because my seat belt rubbed it raw), I chose not to have all these tags clipped off, as they are a vanity item only, and removal is not covered by insurance.

This kind of thing has ceased to bother me much. Both the appearance of such unsightly blemishes and imperfections, and the esteem in which I am held as a result of my nonchalance.

I'll be forty-one soon. I'm not a purple garbed red hat wearing crone by a long shot, but age (and motherhood and marriage?) has certainly made a number of astonishingly surface navel gazing tendencies reconcile themselves with new and more substantive reality. Like choosing to blog about such oddities rather than fret them like worry beads of the mind. Ah, right.....

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