E = mc^2. It's essentially the "what goes around, comes around" of physics. The sum total of mass-energy in the universe is constant. I happen to know this is true. Absolutely true. It was proven today when I found my favorite prescription glasses. On another lady. Well, at least they were the same frames and had bifocals. They were my best fit ever and I lost them and have yet to find them. Not for lack of trying. Massive searches have been mounted in order to find those glasses and I feel so passionate on this issue that I darn near plucked them off her face to see if they were, in fact, my prescription. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to do just that. Fortunately, another cashier stepped in front of me to say she would check me out so, disaster averted. For now. But if I run into Tina again at Brookshire Brothers chaos could ensue--more physics there.
All physics aside, there are so many things going on at Green Acres. Well, physics plays a part as does Chemistry (much to my dismay). We're remodeling the bathroom and I'll have you know that drywall stinks to high heaven. I left the doors open despite the collective household fear of monsters, stink bugs, and bad things that might come in at night. I tried to look up the contents of the drywall we used because my Chemist's nose recognized the smell. We're smellers, we Chemists, but I couldn't put a name to the smell. It was on the tip of my tongue and my brain said things like "ventilation" and "aeration." And definitely NOT sleep in a small, closed space with it for several days while we were putting it up.
Other than fiddling with odds and ends of scientific household warfare, I dealt mostly with rain today. I did my usual Sunday things. I sang. I'm back to the Madonna microphone (no comment) so I'm rather bereft as to what to do with my hands. If I just have one hand free, not a problem. Two hands free? Problem. Awkwardness.
There was also the issue of rain. Now, I'm sorry. If it's pouring down rain I am not going to spend twenty minutes doing all kinds of work on my hair. No way. Now how. So I just put it up in a scrunchie. In keeping with the scrunchie I kept the makeup at a minimum. For some reason I was broken out like a teenager, so I really felt like it was no use and people should just get used to the new me.
I'll have you know that no less that five people commented me on my hair. !!!!!! What the holy hamburgers were they looking at? Some even said it made me look younger (maybe the acne helped out there, I dunno). But it's apparently time to revive the scrunchie collection from my dance bag that I've kept from way, way, way back when. I got one complement on my makeup. That person had to be delusional. I have eyes. I can see a zit from forty paces. Big. Red. Fuming. Acne. Perhaps they were trying to encourage me in my moment of adolescent angst. Bless their hearts. Whatever. Could also be that their glasses are lost in the space-time continuum as well and they couldn't see a zit to save their lives. Women don't usually complement other women unless it's for real. Men? They have all kinds of ulterior motives (sorry, but you do).
Apparently no attention was paid to the fact that I wore my batman shirt, leggings, black slouch boots, and my eternally favorite drape sweater. Lord knows it's not the fashion for the average forty-year-old. I'm without generation when it comes to clothes. If I ever have to stop shopping the juniors section for funny t-shirts then I'm going to lose my hold on life itself. And leggings. I love them. So, a misfit I am for my age. When the age of overwhelming saggage hits I'm going to become a hermit and wear t-shirts only and maybe sweatpants. If someone says, "How about a nice pant suit?" to me again, I shall erf on the spot. Perhaps on their polished Cole Haans. The people on What Not To Wear would have a field day with me.
Clinton: So with this nice slimming cut, how do you like these jeans?
Me: I don't.
Clinton: What is it that you don't like about them?
Me: They're jeans. They're denim. I despise denim.
Clinton: What about the same jean in black?
Me: They would still be jeans.
Clinton: Ok, ok. I see here. Well, let's go on and find some pants you do like. What about these trouser pants.
Me: I have a pair for interviews and stuff, but I really never wear them.
Clinton: Why not?
Me: Because they aren't as comfy as leggings and I don't go out on interviews very much.
Clinton: So, for a special occasion, what do you wear?
Me: I have dresses and some outfits with pants that I wear for special occasions, but quite frankly that doesn't come up that often in Green Acres.
Clinton: Well, tell me about the last special occasion you had.
Me: Dad and I put a new compressor and parts in the Civic by ourselves.
Clinton: Commercial! Commercial! Cut!
And I would come home with $5000 of exquisite leggings, sweaters, t-shirts and drape jackets. Shoes, too. Don't forget the shoes!
And tomorrow....more chemo...yay.
Scat
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