May 17, 2005   Was in the bathroom at the university, using the bright lights to assess my skin recovery, when an odd, middle aged woman came in. I didn't think much of it, people are known to have to pee occasionally, but the woman bypassed the toilets and came over to me and just stood there staring.

Thinking maybe she wanted to use the mirror, I curtly smiled as if to say 'I'll be done in a minute now please stop staring at me', but her staring continued. Feeling awkward in suddenly having become a spectator sport, I asked if I could help her with something, but she shook her head no.

Not knowing what else to do, I resumed my dermatological exam, much to the awe of this woman, and she finally blurted out, "is something wrong with the mirror?" Perplexed, I told her the mirror was fine and did my best to ignore her, but then she inched in closer and began looking back and forth between me and my reflection and again asked if something was wrong with the mirror.

"The mirror is fine," I said, moving aside so she could confirm this by looking at her own reflection, but she instead backed away, looking scared. "Ok," she whispered, then ran out of the bathroom. And that was it. In she came, there she stared, out she went, and I have no idea why, but it left me vexed, not to mention a little self-conscious. I don't think I'm that scary looking.

That, and I'm tired of not being able to go out without having strange run-ins with people. Every night when I get home, Ross asks how my walk was, and more often than not I'm reporting a weird encounter. Like the other night when a drunk guy followed me, singing the hokie pokie at the top of his lungs. Sure, it was funny when he grabbed his crotch, yelled "that's what it's all about," and fell over, but I could do without these things being a routine part of my life.

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