I am leaning towards ...

I have been looking at some pictures of myself (yes, I do that sometimes) and I think that perhaps my left eye is higher than my right and my right ear is higher than my left !
The evidence goes something like this:

• My glasses sit askew on my face, at an estimated angle of 23 degrees past horizontal.
• Examination of my glasses reveal that the frame is, in fact, in perfect condition.
• Cursory examination of my nose finds it to be a suitable landing zone for the frame - my brother would say it is too large - Harvey Smith would remind me a tiny movement of cartilage I suffered at his hands in Ju Jitsu - Mo Sliti would remind me of a 100 mph spike that I took in the face in a volleyball match that probably moved the unoffending nose a few milimeters.
• I am left with the deduction that my jaunty-angled glasses are symptomatic of a much larger facial issue.

Funnily, the first thing that sprang to my mind was a phone call I once took from my brother one early morning. I was in London and my brother was living in Australia at the time. He was in the process of a ... erm ... dietary withdrawal ... and experiencing some sudden epiphanies.

Sanj: (picking up) Hello.
Deep: Sanj?
Sanj: Yup.
Deep: It's me. Deep.
Sanj: Yeah, I know. How are you doing?
Deep: erm... Okay, I guess. Listen I don't have much time and I can't risk being caught.
Sanj: Caught? What?
Deep: Listen, when I was in London, did you notice anything strange about my face?
Sanj: Yeah.
Deep: What? Shit. What was it?
Sanj: It's not as nice as mine.
Deep: Fuck, Sanj this is serious.
Sanj: I don't know what the hell you are talking about.
Deep: It wasn't drooping?
Sanj: Drooping? No. Deep, I haven't seen your face in months.
Deep: Yeah, that's a problem.
Sanj: What's going on?
Deep: I've been looking at my face and I think the left side of it is drooping.
Sanj: Drooping? I'm sure you're imagining it.
Deep: How would you know? You can't see it. And there are medical reasons it could happen.
Sanj: Oh sure, like if you had a stroke or something.
Deep: (silence)
Sanj: Deep?
Deep: Maybe I had a stroke !!!
Sanj: Deep, you're twenty two ! You didn't have a stroke.
Deep: (silence)
Sanj: Are you there?
Deep: Listen. If I send you a fax, can you look at it for me?
Sanj: A fax of what?
Deep: My face, dundas! What the fuck have we been talking about?
Sanj: You're going to fax me your face?
Deep: Yeah. And you have to be honest, I can take it.
Sanj: Why don't you just ask your uncles? They're there with you and they are doctors.
Deep: No, no. I can't trust them. Shhhh, here they come, I have to go.
Phone call ends...