This time I knew time had passed. It was sunny when we left - then it poured. Then it got sunny again and the streets were all steamy. Like NYC but without the stench and the car horns. And I had my Liza not cabaret Liza. Mine is way more entertaining.
Upon our return we were escorted down a hall to an empty waiting room. Creepy. So we sat on all the chairs goldilocks style and then realized how diseased our butts could be.
Do not wipe hand sanitizer on your pants. It makes you smell like a bottle of Alberta vodka and a pair of wet mittens had a baby.
Finally a very calm and put together woman brought us into a - well a very dimly lit room with lots of Grey's Anatomy type props. Except they were real. And smelled worse than we did.
So I posed Titanic style on the bed while my bosoms were sketched by a computer. An ultra sound feels like a bingo dobber inching over your body. Do not ask how I know that.
Top Girls. Ptbo. Large underwear. In a former funeral home. The Only. Sorry.
Liza was in the corner watching. Not as creepy as you think. I did not have my glasses and when she stood close all I could see was a very beautiful smudge with blue eyes.
I could see her face very clearly. She could very clearly see the images on the screen. Her face was changing expressions like Joan Rivers. Wait her face is close pinned tight behind her head.
Changing expressions like Stephen Harper. Damn wrong again -he is a robot. Changing expressions like - like
Like s omeone who is realizing that the person they love is not ok.
"Umm, could you try to pick a face and stick with it. This is not Dexter you are watching"
Famous last words.