If I were a professional blogger, today's blog would go a little something like this…


A friend recently suggested that I see a dermatologist for a full body scan. This basically means that a dermatologist looks at every inch of your skin, scalp to toes, and checks for anything irregular. With ridiculously fair Irish skin and a family history of skin cancer, I decided it was a good idea.


So I checked in to my friendly neighborhood dermatologist's office for my appointment this morning. I was a little nervous, I'm not gonna lie. I wasn't so much afraid of an unruly mole or an irregular freckle; it was more about having to show my heiney to a doctor. Just keepin' it real, folks.


The doctor tries to make things more comfortable. She starts with my hands and arms, making chit chat. She comments that I have a bunch of ink on my fingers and I explain that a pen exploded in my pocket last night and I can't scrub out the ink. It's a pleasant, light conversation….the only kind you want to have knowing that your derriere is about to hit the light of day.


Then I turn over. And even though I'm covered in a paper sheet, I can feel the anxiety creeping up. The moment of dread arrives; the doctor tells me she's going to "just pull the sheet down a bit." I braced, felt the cold air on my tush, and the next thing I heard, I will never forget:


"Holy CROW what is THAT??"


My first thought was that she had just uncovered some sort of alien growing out of my backside and I had somehow failed to notice it. It was all I could do to not JUMP off the table and hide my heiney in shame.


But I didn't. Instead I apprehensively asked, "What is it?!?!"


And then the doctor started laughing. And no, I'm not kidding --she was laughing out loud. It was a lot like my worst nightmare coming to life. At this point, I decided to wrap my booty back up in the 1/8" thick paper sheath and retain whatever withering shread of dignity I had left. I sat up.


Immediately, she realized what was going on and started apologizing profusely. And she explained that she saw something on my backside that she hadn't ever seen before. (GREAT.) Apparently there was a very large, irregular, mishapen dark blue blotch on my bum. She was shocked at first, until she realized that the ink I referenced from a conversation earlier must have exploded in my BACK POCKET, leaving a lark ink stain on my ass.


So do I have skin cancer? No. An alien growing out of my tuckus? Nope. Just a huge ink stain on my butt that I never saw but scared the crap out of my dermatologist.



And that, friends, is how today STARTED. No telling how it will end.