Fat Lip

I woke up to day with a swollen lip. But only half a swollen lip, so I look like a snarling Angelina Jolie. I don’t think it’s from the rash – which Dr. Bondi now claims might be due to streptococcus. I think it’s more of a mosquito bite. I’ve seen a few flitting about (you’d think we’d have less on the 6th floor!) But isn’t it what all the lip-plumping glosses promise? Mosquito-bitten lips? Oh wait. It’s bee-stung. Honestly, I’d take the mosquito. If only it was even. On both sides. But perhaps if I suck in my cheeks like all the Argentine women do to give the effect of sunken cheekbones, I will seem less like an early stroke victim. I appear a bit lopsided. And spotted. Although this morning the rash seemed to fade. (Argentina, the land of the beautiful, is perhaps teaching me to be less vain.)

In other news, I got into grad school. It was the weirdest thing: yesterday morning I woke up dreaming of what to write to Laura Rodriguez, graduate admissions at UT. I started to shrug it off, but decided to e-mail her briefly before coffee. The gross, bitter coffee from Tolon. They are on probation. Anyway, once Jenny and I got back from our cultural day of Holocaust Museum, empanadas from San Jose, Colorado juice bar (we thought it wise to boost our immune systems since I’ve been sick and now Annemarie is too,) and Recoleta Cemetery – a big day for a recovering sickie – I had one email. From Laura Rodriguez: you’re in, we want you to be a TA, please let us know by April 25. What? Crazy! Totally a God thing. So it looks like I might be back in Austin for the fall, folks.

Oh, and Jenny says my lip isn't that noticeable. Honestly, I think the swelling has gone down too. Maybe I just bit it in my sleep.