Since I’ve been mentioning them so much in this blog, this feels like a good time to introduce you to my ovaries: Syndee and Ali. I’ve named them after two girls I went to elementary school with.
Syndee (yes, her name was really spelled this way) was hands down the most popular girl in our class. She wore the nicest clothes, her father was beyond rich, and she had a light, airy sort of laugh that made barely pubescent boys in our class realize at the tender age of 10 that there was more to life than Super Mario Cart and Duck Hunt. On days that Syndee liked you, you were golden. On days she didn’t like you, your life was an elementary school living hell.
Ali was Syndee’s best friend (the irony is not lost on me that her name was Ali, which I now associate with ALI). Ali did everything that Syndee did, only in a slightly more annoying, chubbier, and less charming way. If Syndee hated you that day, Ali hated you too.
For the most part, I stood safely on the periphery of Syndee and Ali’s group–I was cool enough to hang on the outskirts, but never penetrated the inner circles of popularity. I was kind of a shy, tomboyish girl who had some close friends, but was never socially threatening, so Syndee and I got along superficially. There were a few memorable times, however, that Syndee decided my self esteem needed to be bitch slapped– like the time in 6th grade where she snapped my training bra strap and asked me in front of everyone why I was even wearing a bra, since I didn’t have boobs anyway. And Ali laughed right along.
I never felt at ease around Syndee and Ali because I never knew when they would be nice, or when they would suddenly turn on me. I’m sure they don’t remember the things they said to me, or how they behaved, but they caused me a lot of pain.
You get the picture.
My left ovary is Syndee. She’s the most cyst filled and toxic. She has decided each month it’s her turn to ovulate, she’s going to snap my bra strap and do something to fuck with me. Ali, my right ovary, is less cystic, but seems to go along with whatever Syndee is doing, so she hasn’t popped an egg out yet, either. I’m perpetually waiting for the day that they will decide to be my friend again.
Syndee and Ali are both my “friends” on Facebook (because Facebook is a sick and twisted place, and I clearly have low self esteem.) It’s here that I found out that Syndee started some sort of hippie dippy “emotional healing” service called “Deeper Ground”. For a good laugh, Google her name and the name of her company, and you’ll find her treasure trove of love and wisdom. She provides spiritual life coaching to people who have probably been teased by people like her their whole lives. Knowing that she does this for a living has honestly made me wary of any and every life coach out there. Ali is a Princeton grad who is now an attorney. Neither have kids (yet) but it’s probably worth de-friending them now so I don’t have to go through those ultrasound pics.
If you have seen Muriel’s Wedding, you know what this top picture is referring to. If you haven’t seen Muriel’s Wedding, please do yourself a favor and watch it. It is one of the best movies of the last 20 years.
Syndee and Ali–I will defeat you. Even if it may take some meds to do it.