And now a word about our appearances.

I wish I could say I was without flaws, that I did nothing that offended anyone. But I know this would be a lie. We all do something, often unintentionally, that bothers others.

When I found out I snored I was horrified. I didn't want to be a person who snored; I wanted to be a person who slept silently and looked good in the morning. But what can you do? Yes, of course, you can get surgery, or wear a pincher thing on your nose when you sleep. But who wants to?

Oftentimes we are unaware of how we appear to others. We meander through life unaware that we may be doing things that offend others, like our spouses, for example. We may be blissfully unaware that people are gossiping and snickering behind our backs at the office. 

Some people, god bless them, love us so much they tell us point blank what is wrong with us. Often they make it their life's work to do this. This life work is generally called "married life." While we had no awareness of our plethora of problems going into the marriage, we soon learn that we are entirely freakish in the extent of our problems. 

The test of any relationship is to remain calm when the one we sleep with says things that cut us as clean as a freshly sharpened machete. We must remain open to their suggestions and they of ours. When our mate suggests other wardrobes, and mentions that Bill and Beth don't want to invite us to dinner because I habitually chew with my mouth open, I must accept that she is only mentioning it not to hurt me but to correct wrong behavior, so we can live blissfully in the land of love.

However, often those who love us want us to change, or look like a movie star or former lover, and this is not okay. You can ascertain this almost immediately when you first go to their place and see a framed photo of a person who looks like you sitting beside their bed. If you find that someone has hooked up with you on the rebound, due to your resemblance to their former lover, you should run as quickly as possible for the door. Short of plastic surgery, you will never fill that person's shoes. Their template will hang over you like a dull gray shadow for all eternity.

On the other hand, if our soulmate wants us to lose that bulge around our middles, and they will help us clip our abundant nose hair, and pluck the hair growing from our ears and moles, schedule an appointment to have our third nipple removed, or take us to the body wax place, and afterwards take us to eat tiramisu by the wharf, then we can be pretty certain they love us like no other. This is their life's work, let them do their magic. They will still love us if we look like death warmed over. They will put up with our awful maladies and we of them. This is true love. Your soulmate is in it for the long haul, and if they have to haul your behind to the plastic surgeon, let them! let them! Accept no imitations. Listen to them and do their bidding and later give them airline tickets to Hawaii and give them a boob job, if they are women, and buy them a DVD of great moments in sports, if they are men. Your call.

As long as they are nice about it, and say please, let them make their suggestions. 

Physical imperfections are sometimes correctable, but it's the personality foibles that are the biggest problems. Listen when friends tell us we are being ignorant, listen when they say we can't have another gin and tonic, that we shouldn’t sing in public, or try to speak French to the in-laws from Quebec until we can actually speak French. 

We all want to be prettier, more charming, and ultimately - more lovable. God help the single people like me who don't have someone who loves them enough to tell them they have skin flakes on the tips of their ears, or that our fingernails look like something out of a horror movie.

We must cherish those that tell us that we shouldn’t cover our bald spots by swooping a twelve inch lock of hair from somewhere near one ear, or suggest where we might get hair transplants, or that there is a cure for vitiligo, or mention we have a piece of cilantro that could choke a horse stuck between our teeth, or suggest that Roasted Garlic is not a good brand of cologne, or that there are other perfumes besides Odor de Swine.

If our loved ones suggest we try a new hairstyle, or that we purchase a more hip pair of glasses so people will like us, we should listen. They simply are looking out for us; they want us to be popular. And when we say to the ones we love: "I like that your hair is jet black even though you are sixty-seven, but darling, your nose hairs are white as snow," or, "your toenails are so yellow I'm thinking of trying to hock them as gold to make our mortgage payment," we can expect them to not reach for a meat cleaver or vase to hurl at us, but for tears to well up in their eyes in gratitude. And if tears flow it is not because they are offended but because they know they are loved with unabashed love that stares into their imperfect faces in the mornings and says, "Honey, you have a wad of eye junk that's really grossing me out. Can I pluck it out for you?" or, "Your breath smells like a poopy diaper. May I get you a breath mint before we make love?"

We mustn't ever lose our sense of originality. When we cannot change something about ourselves, we must not cower in disgrace and humiliation. We must mount up on our roofs and use a bullhorn to tell the world, "Yeah, that's right. I'm a freak. I like to braid my back  hair, so what of it?" or, "Hey, I just wanted to let you know I'm freaking proud of my two foot long Jesus fish on my freaking car!" or, "I have man-boobs and I reek of truffles, so what?" And your neighbors and your coworkers, if they love you, will accept you for your candid outburst and your confident stride.

If we want to dress like a disco queen, or a drag queen, or as a Druid then it is our right. If your woman likes her legs to be more hairy than most men's legs, and won't use the defoliant you've placed by her nightstand, then I say - let her be hairy. We mustn't be too rigid about our suggestions to those we care about. Who honestly gives a darn if our neighbors think we are strange because we wear clothes that aren’t hip enough for the neighborhood? Whose business is it if we like our restored 1974 Ford Pinto, and won't trade it in for a used BMW? Maybe we want to wear our shirts tucked in instead of out. Maybe we find women's shoes more comfortable than men's shoes. Perhaps we like eating our potatoes raw. What is important is that we love who we are and if we cannot change to suit everyone then we cannot change and we shouldn't have to. And we shouldn't. Besides. So there.

Some who meander aren’t lost. Vive originality. But if you feel the need to say something to your loved ones about their bizarre laugh or their butt cracks showing when they wear their high water pants, say it nicely, won't you? We must be careful not to push the wrong buttons, because it isn't so much what we say, it's how we say it.