When my friend Rebecca and I are out in public, we are sometimes mistaken for sisters. In fact, when Dan, his brother Adam, Rebecca and I are sitting at a restaurant together, we look like an East Side version of the Bobbsey Twins: the boys in their ringer t-shirts, Rebecca and I in blue hoodies with our hair pulled into ponytails.

But the story Dan told me today, this one’s the best. Here it is as I heard it, during mile three of this morning’s ten-mile run with Dan (Yes, I ran anyway, even though the nice nurse suggested (ordered) that I don’t. I didn’t want to call Dan in the middle of the night or early in the morning and puss out on him, particularly because we’d logged all the miles during the week leading up to our long run. I got up early and had a good breakfast, drank lots of water, ate an orange, and did some stretching. What do you know, all that preparation worked! We did all ten miles, and didn’t die, and we’re awesome and this week, unlike last, I didn’t come down with the chills for an hour afterward. Yay, us.)

Anyway. Back to the story.

[scripty]
Dan
So, I have to tell you this story about my future sister-in-law going to the gynecologist.

Pam
And then you have to tell me why you know way too much about Rebecca.

Dan
Well, I know this story because it doesn’t really involve her intimate parts. Actually, I think you’ll be quite intrigued by all of the players involved. Kind of a surprise twist.

Pam
Ready.

Dan
She went to the gynecologist, who wanted to tell her again how much she liked her book, and how she gave the book to her daughter, who loved it.

Pam
Her book?

Dan
Yes.

Pam
Whose…book?

Dan
Rebecca’s.

Pam
The book that she…wrote?

Dan
Yes.

Pam
Because… oh, my God. Rebecca and I have the same gynecologist!

Dan
You recommended her, yes.

Pam
And the doctor thought she was me!

Dan
She really liked your book.

Pam
She’s a great doctor.

Dan
That’s what Rebecca said. I don’t know what makes someone a good gynecologist.

Pam
You don’t feel a thing, and it’s all over with in like, four seconds. And she’s very nice. She’s the doctor who inspired the ending of the book. That’s why she has a copy, because she made me break down and cry about my dad in her office because I first saw her two days after he died. She couldn’t believe I’d even left the house, much less went in for a Pap smear.

Dan
Jeez. I might have said the same thing.

Pam
I don’t handle grief like normal people.

Dan
Rebecca said she found the entire thing to be very flattering.

Pam
We even have similar last names. Gosh, I hope the doctor didn’t switch our charts. There are some things Rebecca and I don’t need to know about each other.

Dan
And… stop talking about this… right now.
[/scripty]

Over the past 24 hours I’ve pretty much lost my voice. I have a cough, and then I was panting outside for two hours (although the cough went away as my body kicked into survival mode and from mile three to eight I never coughed once), and I just spent the past two hours kind of yelling at the television screen for a Film Pigs commentary I helped out on. Tonight I’m going to a small concert with a friend, but luckily it’s mellow and I’ll keep the “woo”‘s to a minimum. I’m going to spend the next couple of hours propped up on the couch with a book, some Oprah, and hot tea. I’ve earned the right to remain silent.