I'm So Vain

22

At my next visit to Dr. Gasparo's, he showed me a computer simulation of what I would like after the operation. "Now," he said, as I stared at my face on the screen, "We can't promise that you will look exactly like this, of course. This is simply a computer image that resembles what you will hopefully look like." 

"It's perfect," I said, my eyes on the screen, "thank you." My lips turned up as I examined my future face. My nose was long and thin and the rest of my face was suddenly perfect surrounding it. My chin looked rounder, my cheeks looked sharper, my lips looked bigger. When I  got home I went upstairs to my room and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I was getting the surgery in two days. I got up and put on my running clothes. I was suddenly filled with a strange sort of nervous energy, and I needed to run it out of my system. I grabbed my iPod and watched myself put my hair in a ponytail through my full length mirror before running downstairs.

I could tell it was going to rain, so I stretched quickly and broke into a sprint. I wanted to get in at least three miles before the storm hit, and as the sky was quickly growing darker, I could tell I'd have to pick up a quick pace if I wanted to accomplish the feat. 

My feet hit the pavement rhythmically as I ran a curve. I stopped at a park bench to reknot a loose shoe and as I leaned down hurriedly, impatient to continue on and get home before lightning struck, my face knocked against my knee. I fell into a squatting position and rubbed my hand over my nose. I looked up at the storm clouds and ran my index finger over the bridge. A drop landed on my cheek then, and I quickly tied my shoe before standing and sprinting home.

Thursday morning I hitched a ride to school with Caleb and prepared myself for the paparazzi-like sophomores. My surgery was happening tomorrow, and so the swarm was especially excited. I answered their questions but kept one eye on Penny the whole time. In class I watched the clock like a cat ready to pounce, my mind jumping from place to place as I distractedly clicked and unclicked my ballpoint. When Penny dropped me at my house, I immediately kicked off my pumps and tied on my sneakers. I ran furiously, as if for my life, and I turned the volume of my iPod all the way up. I was going to Dr. Gasparo's later that afternoon for our last meeting. My surgery was in a matter of hours now, and my heart was beating over time even before I started running.

When I woke up the next morning, the first thought in my mind was: I'm going under the knife today. It was eight AM, my mom was allowing me to stay home from school that day, as my surgery was at ten. I got up, took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs. I paced the house for twenty minutes before turning on the TV. My parents were both already at work; I was going to drive myself to the hospital and my mom would meet me there. The neighborhood was silent as death and I couldn't pay attention to the television, so I turned it up and left it on as I walked into the kitchen and stared in the fridge for a while without actually eating anything. Then I sat at the kitchen bar and stared at the tile. Why was I doing this? So many things could go wrong. They could mess up and make my nose look much worse. And would my nose swell before it healed? How long would it be swelled? What if it was months, and I had to go to the prom with a huge nose? Why didn't I wait until summer for this operation? I bit my nails and picked at my split ends and traveled up and down the stairs repeatedly to reapply my lipstick, until finally it was nine thirty and I grabbed my keys and slammed the front door behind me.