I'M "THAT GIRL" .... OR, I CAN BE YOUR "IT GIRL"

If you are as old as me, you may remember "That Girl" ......  A TV show starring Marlo Thomas.  Marlo was That Girl and her name in the show was Ann Marie.  Ann (minus the E) and her surname was Marie.  Close enough for me.  I'm That Girl.  I'm AnneMarie. Sounds the same if it's spoken, ergo, it IS the same.  The hell with the whole spelling thing.

Over the course of the past couple of months, I've blurted out a few fairly decent soundbites.  I've gotten friendly with a bunch of people via this blog and through twitter.  Lots of people have Facebook pages, too.  I haven't fully engaged in those.  I reserve Facebook for my brick and mortar friends and for my family.  I "like" a bunch of pages.  Army of Women, some of the bloggers have pages and a few other things but I don't spend much time there.

Truthfully, FB was initially my way of keeping tabs on my "kids" and now that I've outed that little secret, I'm fairly certain both of them will be hitting their privacy screens to reset everything and block out mom.  Wait!  They aren't reading this.  Phew.... I can still stalk.  After all, nothing says "Codependent" like Mommy stalking her over 25 year old "children."

I participate in a few online chats each week.  Tweet chat (see yesterday and the photo in the post which still amazes me!!!!) is quite challenging.  First of all, it moves at WARP speed.  More importantly, 140 characters?  Including the damn spaces?  I'm the wordy one.  This is a problem.  A few weeks back, I cracked a joke about taking care of me, worrying about others, the need for an occasional anxiety pill and said I was The It Girl.  A couple of very sweet tweeps made me feel extra special when they agreed that I was "The It Girl" which of course, leads me to The Internet Detour.

The only thing I know about It Girl is a club song by some Jason guy.  I can hear it in my head now.  Something about 25 to life, spotlights and how someone can be his "It Girl."  That's The It Girl in 2011 on a radio station that I should be spinning right past on my way to Pink Floyd or The Beatles or the Dawning of the Age of Aquarius or something more age appropriate.  ANYTHING more age appropriate!

When I began my google detour to get to the root of The It Girl, I was really impressed.  "It" can be an intangible.  Not necessarily beauty or good talk, just "it" which is the way it is interpreted in a story by Rudyard Kipling.  Someone named Elinor Glyn noted that it's a quality possessed by some that draws all others with its magnetic force.  As a woman, I would be winning "all men."  I might beg to differ on that and I can cite some pretty specific examples (if I am to accept status as The It Girl).

Then, I came upon other definitions and damn, I was feeling pretty full of myself.  One of the explanations was that this was a "self confidence and indifference whether you are pleasing or not AND something in you that gives the impression you are not at all cold." The absolute bottom line explanation:  "Personality plus and that conceit destroys it."  Reviewing the beginning of this paragraph, feeling pretty full of myself? There goes the "it" gig...... that's conceit, therefore, "it" is no more.

Hold up a sec, I don't think I'm altogether THAT self absorbed.  I don't really think I'm all that.  I like the sound of that confidence and indifference line.  It's license to be a bitch as long as I can walk a fine line and not be bitchy.  Ok..... I like "It" ... and I want to embrace my It-ness.  My Inner It.

Last night, Little Miss It Girl was talking to a couple of people.  I know there was a presentation in San Antonio by a prominent doctor about reconstructive surgery and radiated skin.  And, a few of my new buddies are having issues with reconstruction.  We were chatting and I was simultaneously attempting to find the transcript from the presentation.  That's what an "It Girl" does..... Annie on the Spot...... Let me see what I can dig up.... It's also what a chemo challenged brain does..... rabid dog, gotta go find the answer.

I did NOT locate the transcript of the seminar but I did locate something about reconstruction in the New England Journal of Medicine. THAT is the true Holy Grail of publications.  And, I'm reading and I'm hoping to see if there is any information I can share that might be helpful to my friends.  As I scroll the page, there are four photos.  Reconstructed breasts.  Three of them were not altogether that pleasing to the eye.  One of the photos looked damn good.  The explanation next to that particular headless "set" reads:

Panel B shows a bilateral breast reconstruction with implants and subsequent nipple–areola reconstruction. Excellent results can typically be achieved in bilateral, implant-based reconstruction, since breast symmetry can be optimized. 

And suddenly, I began to laugh and I could not stop.  I can't confirm this with 100% certainty.  It's a medical abstract in a prestigious publication.  I know I have several sets of photos taken each year when I see the plastic surgeon.  It's part of the clinical study on the gummies.  The photos and the subsequent 900 page annual questionnaire so I can make sure I am clear about the fact that I love the way I look in clothes but the thought of intimacy?  Just shoot me.

Except, those excellent results?  MINE!  I'm not sure the doctor will tell me but I know what I look like.  I know there is a slight difference in my scars.  I know one implant settled in slightly lower than the other.  I would recognize those tan lines anywhere.

Yep.  I'm the It Girl alright.  And no, I'm not telling anyone where the publication may be found.  You will have to do your own internet detour.... or find one of the very funny group of gals involved in the Tweet Flash.  I think they got my back...... good luck getting any of them to out the location of my public private parts.  Me?  I'm still laughing.  And staring.  And counting the beauty marks.

The upside?  I'm slightly less pissed off at the TSA guy who got to sneak a peek without my knowledge.  Equal rights.  If the doctors can look in a journal, the TSA guy can look on a computer screen.

IT is funny.  Very funny!