Aunty Acid by Ged Backland for January 09, 2025

And perfect is the enemy of good.

Everyone in path of winter storm Cora – please stay safe !!!!

A Waste Of Perfectly Good Pee

I go to an urgent care, concerned that I have a UTI. The medical assistant is going through the basic list of questions.

Medical Assistant: “Have you had any surgeries?”

Me: “Yes, I had a rhinoplasty and a hysterectomy.”

Medical Assistant: “Full or partial hysterectomy?”

Me: “Partial; I have my ovaries, but I no longer have a uterus.”

A few questions later…

Medical Assistant: “And when was your last menstrual cycle?”

I look at her uninterrupted for ten seconds. She blinks at me, unaware.

Me: “I… no… longer have a uterus.”

Medical Assistant: “I’m so sorry. It goes through my head automatically.”

Me: “No problem.”

Later on, I looked at the results of my urinalysis. First line: “HCG: negative.”

That’s right — they gave me a pregnancy test.

The Perfect Shift

Back in my hotel days in the ’90s, I was working one night where doubles were the preferred room type. This meant that most standard room guests got upgraded to Kings and King guests got upgraded to Suites. It was one of those, all too rare, feel-good shifts where everyone got good news upon check-in.

We only had a few arrivals left and I upgraded a guest, whose name I recognized as a frequent guest, to an Ambassador Suite which was a luxuriously appointed room with a bedroom, dining room, living room, and large screen TV. He was very excited to receive the upgrade and thanked me profusely. After I checked him in, he had called down to the front desk to excitedly thank me again. He said the room was bigger than his studio apartment!

Thirty minutes later he stopped off at the desk to thank us again, he mentioned he was going out for dinner.

About two hours later he came back to the desk and he had brought me a full lobster dinner. To be clear, not his leftovers, a full untouched lobster dinner with rolls, veggies and loaded baked potato, still piping hot! I shared it with my colleague.

It was such a great night!

Picture-Perfect Fun With Photos

The old Woodward’s store in downtown Vancouver used to have a photo booth near the food court. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, my friends and I loved to go down to the photo booth. We would save up our change, bring props, and get all sorts of fun selfies.

One day, I was there with a friend having fun as usual when I noticed that a very small girl, maybe three or four, had appeared next to the photobooth. She was looking longingly at the curtains and at us.

I could see that her mom was nearby, so I said something like, “Sweet girl!” to her.

Mom: “She’s really curious about what’s going on in there.”

Me: “Would it be okay for me to bring her in there and take some pictures?”

The mom was 100% on board with this idea, and the little girl was somewhat in awe of being allowed to go into the booth. I still have two of those four pictures. I gave the other two to the girl and her mother.

That’s me.

Reality — What a ‘Conception’!

If I were perfect, I’d probably commit suicide. There would be nothing left to do.

We’re all perfect. Otherwise, who decides what isn’t?

Congrats Aunty. you are imperfect.

Born to be Wild…Steppenwolf

Born to be real obnoxious and fat.

We all were, Aunty.

Truth. Perfection should be only an inspiration, not a goal, if one wants to not feel depressed, discouraged, deflated, defeated. Those that ARE perfect (just ask them!) are the most boring people to be around, they don’t get to be anything else! and there is NO pleasing them.

Oh Aunty you are real alright, a REAL……….Well we both know what you are.

You are so humble.

Get real…….60s and 70s.!!!!!!

Love all your imperfections, they are what makes you who you are… human.

I thought that was “Born to be wild.”