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Oh Goodness!

It's like taking a grapefruit and making it into a crêpe and asking it to turn back into a grapefruit.

Mammograms take a spherical breast and flatten them so that nothing can hide from the discerning eye of the machine and its cameras.

It hurt like hell.

And with breasts out and arms akimbo, there was no faking dignity.

Nor is there faking gratitude.

Because as much as it kills, it is a miracle that we live in a time where we can look inside the body without opening it up. That we can know it from the outside in.

So, I felt a little sore and a whole lot blessed. I took comfort in that the French word for injured is blessée as it seems to unify my two train of thoughts, like a junction.

This tick is from when I first landed in France and would just add é to English words. Such as I liké sportsé et toi? Sometimes it worked ...dîné, nommé, voyagé. But most of the time, I sounded like an idiot.

Yet, yesterday did end on a sweet note. I had a verre de rosé with a couple of fun and funny ladies. At the end of the apéro, they were to meet a third friend for dinner. Did I want to join? I did, but now that I was off kitchen duty, I needed to go home to see what my love had whipped up (by the way, for those following the cause of the rash and itching - it was not sure death by raspberries but rather slow death by fungus in garlic-infused olive oil; The garlic should have been cooked and dried, rather than just plopped in the oil. And, kisses to the boy for trying to save my ego, but it definitely was not the detergent).

As we waited for their friend to arrive, the three of us admired the pastel sky with airbrushed clouds, only a bit of which could be seen behind Kismet, the super yacht that took up half the harbour. Apparently it costs 1,200,00 euros plus expenses .... to rent ... per week. Mind blown. Cut to the scene in A Beautiful Mind where numbers and equations swirl, expand, retract and come to life. This kind of money just doesn't seem real nor does it seem right. That vessel could feed the world. Opulence trumps the oppressed. This is the stuff that gives me melancholy. The mean reds as Holly Golightly would say.

Then their friend arrives. One of them exclaims - Oh, Goodness!

Because ladies and gents, that is her name.

I smile at this knowledge. And suddenly my crêpe day was not so crêpey any more.