I remember my father taking my picture before I left for a junior high dance, a moment when I felt I looked the best I could. My mother had made my dress and my sister fixed my hair. I was so pleased with my appearance, I told my mother, "I can't believe I look this good."
This was before I met Glenn.
Glenn was the boy I liked in the eighth grade. I'm not sure if he ever liked me. When he passed me in the hall, he would say "NOSE." He would call my house several times at night. When I came to the phone, I'd hear "NOSE," and he would hang up. It may have been a one-sided relationship.
I never thought I had a big nose, but this was making it grow. Not so much like Pinocchio, but it was all I could see on my face. I never saw Glenn in high school, but I still had the big nose. I thought my nose was the reason I didn't date much.
When I started working after college, I began saving money to get my nose fixed. I knew life would get better for me if I didn't have such a big nose.
"I knew life would get better for me if I didn't have such a big nose."
A few years later, I was having lunch with my friend Mike when he announced he was getting a divorce and going to England. He loved tennis and it was his dream to go to Wimbledon.
My mother had told me only rich people went to Europe, so I never thought about it. I asked Mike how much it cost, thinking it would be thousands of dollars. When he told me, I said, "I have that much money'' (in the NOSE account). He said, "Why don't you go with me? I have a room in London for a week. Then, we can go together to Scotland. I'm playing golf at St. Andrew's. We can hike in Wales. Rent a car in Ireland, tour around."
This was great, I had to go. I bought my plane ticket and a guide book. While Mike was watching tennis, I toured London on my own. When we met up for dinner, I'd tell him, "I saw the Tower of London and the Queen's jewels. I went for a boat ride on the Thames." Mike would tell me, "I saw Becker beat Blah Blah, 6-4, 6-3, 7-5." The next day, I'd tell him about seeing Buckingham Palace, lunch at a charming tea shop and going through the British Museum. He'd tell me another 6-1, 6-1, 6-2 story.
I loved traveling by myself. I was able to do exactly what I wanted. Mike provided a bit of a safety net and some companionship. Some. I remember in Ireland, when he drove, I screamed and when I drove, he screamed.
"I saw the Tower of London and the Queen's jewels. I went for a boat ride on the Thames."
After I returned home, the travel glow dimmed. I realized if I wanted to get married, I needed to start saving for the nose job again. And I did. I didn't know how much the surgery cost. I'd never gone to a surgeon. I just knew I needed a couple thousand dollars to change my life. When I was getting close to the nose goal for the second time, I read in the newspaper about a tour to Italy for three weeks. This could work. I could go by myself but have some company on the side. The tour looked good and I had the money. There were 12 people: two couples, a family and four rich women from a small town in Tennessee. One of them was a little different though, Becky. She wasn't old and was a lot fun. We started to sit together on the bus. The driver was from Germany and sold German beer for one U.S. dollar. Becky and I had a great time. We climbed to the top of every cathedral. We went out at night, found concerts and outside cafes for people watching. It was a wonderful trip. I made a new friend and saw Italy from top to bottom.
Zermatt, Switzerland; Stresa, Italy; and the Dolomites.
On the flight home, I shared my NOSE story with Becky. Seems she had her own nose story. She fixed hers right off the bat at 19. She got into medical school, graduated with honors, married a doctor and had two very smart, attractive children. One day her daughter remarked, "I look just like you except for my big nose." Becky told her, "wait till you're 19, then we'll look alike."
Becky suggested I just get a loan when I got home and get it done. But I told her, it doesn't look that big any more. I never thought about it again. Well, I never saved money for it again. I just traveled. My friend, Betinna, and I backpacked throughout Europe for a month. I went to Spain, Portugal, France, Belgium and England with an antique map dealer I was dating. I went to Australia riding trains for a month by myself. Brazil with two girlfriends, Mexico with five girlfriends. To the Caribbean on a sailing trip when my friend Betinna got married. Camping in Hawaii. Canada, the western side with the map dealer, the middle with my sister and the eastern side with a girlfriend. Hiking in France with a group of friends, the Dolomites with a boyfriend. I've been on so many road trips, with so many different people. I once drove from Memphis to the Grand Canyon with a girlfriend and we never turned on the radio. We talked the entire way, going and coming.
I was shopping with a girlfriend when a man walked up and told her how pretty she was.
When he left, I said, "That was weird."
She said, "lt happens all the time. Don't people come up and tell you how pretty you are?"
"Well… No. Once, a man at the library told me he liked my dress."
Pretty is a nice thing to be but give me interesting (which is, in fact, what I did get). Strangers don't tell me I'm pretty but I get asked to go on a lot of trips. I've traveled to all of the United States except North and South Dakota and Alaska. One day, someone will ask me to go with them to Alaska, or the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota for the polka festival. Trips seem to find me.
A few years ago, Glenn called me to say he was sorry. I don't know why. I told him my nose had expanded my world and taken me to some wonderful places. I had made so many friends on my trips and have so many wonderful memories. And my nose wasn't big anymore, my life was.
