What do women want? Love? Sure. Money? Of course. Cosmetics? Now you're talking! Rita Rudner nails it in her very funny routine about those “free gifts” — you know the ones, where you buy something you don’t need to get a bunch of things you don’t want.
It's twue, so twue.
I can rationalize falling for this a few summers ago because I was recovering from surgery, and hey, a girl needs a "free gift” at a time like that. As we know, I can rationalize anything, but honestly, that ad was too enticing. The cutest little cosmetic case in pink and white checks filled with goodies like summer blush (I needed that: It was summer! I was pale!) plus various and sundry beauty aids with intriguing names promising miraculous results. We do so live in hope.
My grandmother believed that all the dishwashing liquids, shampoos, and just about any product in a bottle, were all exactly the same thing in different colors with different names. I do wonder myself about New Dawn Dishwashing Liquid versus Herbal Essence Shampoo (they’re even the same color), and I am totally baffled by all those skin creams.
Do I really need a different moisturizer for my eyes, my throat, my t-zone, the rest of my face? For summer, winter, spring, or summer, night or day? Light, extra light, rich, super rich, fabulously firming, with aloe, lanolin, collagen, gentian, pearl drops of moisture, invigorating enzymes, hydrating hormones and unspecified ingredients that revitalize, rejuvenate, relax, and restore?
And yet.
I love those little kits with the goodies . . .
|
|
|
A minute ago, I tripped on the oriental rug in my office. Bad carpet! And if I weren't so naturally graceful (not), I could have fallen.
And if I had fallen, I might have hurt myself (Ouch!), and the rest of the afternoon and maybe the evening or even many days thereafter would have been taken up with dealing with that. I mean, I could have sprained an ankle, or broken one even. I could have sustained bruises, with blood and everything. Just cleaning that up really eats into your day.
Maybe I would have had to go the (Gasp!) Emergency Room. At the very least, I'd have to do something with Band-Aids, which are never where I think I put them (see: I'VE LOST IT!), and that activity alone would have taken up a lot of time. Luckily, I caught myself, and have now dutifully returned to the computer, where I am writing this. You think blogs write themselves?
The thing is, because I DIDN'T fall, I saved all the time I would have spent dealing with that but-for-the-grace-of-the-gods-who-protect-the-graceless flop on the rug. So, I ask you: don't I have some free time coming?
Can't I just goof off for the rest of the day . . .
|
|
I AM EXPERIENCING T E M P O R A R Y T E C H N I CA L D I F F I C U L T I E S
Not surprising, considering that I'm afraid of my own alarm clock.
No. Really. It’s a smart clock that automatically adjusts for daylight savings time, making it far, far, smarter than I. My old clock was dumb. It would start beeping in the middle of the night, and I couldn’t make it stop. Is the smart clock too bright for that, or wily enough to outwit me and go off at the crack of dawn, even though I have my phone programmed not to ring before 10AM? Only time will tell.
I am no longer afraid of my phone, the land line, but still get confused about getting messages from my cell. Or sending texts. I’ve mastered Hi-Def TV and can record, replay, and delete like a pro. But this level of competence took more calls to Time Warner than they or I would care to admit, and I'm still not sure how long recorded shows remain available for viewing. I will figure this out, and learn to live with all the new and exciting technology I feel I ought to know —
in the fullness of time.
Meanwhile, I blog.
If you really want to know about technical difficulties —BE ME AND START A BLOG. . .
|
|
They say that if there are no fireworks in your relationship, you’re in trouble. I was in trouble.
The guy I eventually married and I — the operative word here being “eventually”— were about to have our first Fourth of July together. That, as my friend would tell me, is such a GIRLY thing to say. Well, yes. Yes, it is. But I take these things seriously and I wanted there to be, well, fireworks! Literally.
Macy’s puts on spectacular fireworks every 4th of July in NYC, and I heard that the River Café would be the perfect place to view them. So even though it was kind of last minute, I called to make a reservation. And I got it: Dinner at eight at a table by the window! A wonderful sign of things to come, things hopefully involving fireworks, I thought. Then thought no more about it, until the evening of the fourth . . .
|
|
|