reading: Catch me, by AJ Holt.
Recently finished: My Losing Season, by Pat Conroy. I usually adore everything Pat Conroy writes, but this one I just didn’t care for. I don’t know if it’s ’cause I don’t give a damn about sports or what, but the book only about half held my interest the entire way through.
Finished before that: The Wonder Spot, by Melissa Banks. Loved it!
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So yes, I took yesterday off. I was actually up early enough to pound out an entry, but I puttered around the house for long enough that after I took my shower and got dressed, I had about ten minutes to kill before I needed to leave the house, and thus! No entry for you!
I left a little after 8, because I had a 9:00 appointment with the nutritionist in South Huntsville and GOD I hate driving to South Huntsville when it entails making the change from 565 to South Parkway, because other people have the utter nerve and gall to be driving on the same roads, and the instant you get onto the Parkway you have to move, like, three lanes to the left or you’ll be forced to exit.
ANYhoo, I made it to the nutritionist’s office without any problems and spent a little while cooling my heels in the waiting room, then about ten minutes talking to him (basically, he looked over my last week’s worth of menu, told me I was doing great, asked about exercise, and told me to email or call if I have any questions. Also, he gave me the go-ahead to start adding raw vegetables back to my diet, woohoo! And I mean that “woohoo!” in a completely sincere and non-ironic way, which is a little sad, but whatEVERRRR.). Now, I had an appointment at noon on the same side of Huntsville, and I had thought that perhaps I’d park somewhere and do some walking – since I didn’t have time to exercise before I left the house – but in the end I decided not to, and so when I left the house I didn’t bother to bring my sneakers or iPod; after my appointment was over, it was so nice that I was really wishing I’d brought my stuff, but since I didn’t I decided to do a little shopping and then run home for a little while.
I stopped by Sam’s to look at the big planters, decided that they were too expensive and I’d just use the broken-down planters we already had (I bought some Million Bells Petunias to put in planters on the front porch), and then went to Target for – what else? – kitty litter and toilet paper.
I got home and had about 45 minutes to kill before I needed to leave, so I cleaned the kitchen and vacuumed the entire house, then did some of the spud’s laundry (out of the goodness of my own heart, and for which I received NO “thank you”, by the way) and then I ended up leaving the house about 5 minutes late.
I got to my appointment – a consultation for laser hair removal – right on time. It turns out that since the hair on the majority of my face is so light (very blond, but very thick, damnit), they couldn’t do laser hair removal on my whole face, but since the hair on my upper lip is dark enough, they could do that. And since it’s my mustache that bothers me the most, I decided to go ahead and have it done. And apparently once you say “Let’s do it!”, they’re ready to do it right then and there. So she led me into a room with a recliner-type table, shaved the dark hair on my upper lip, put gel on it, gave me big, ugly glasses to put on, and began with the lasering.
And it hurt like a motherfucker. I’ve always heard it said that it feels like being snapped with a rubber band, but to me it felt like someone was jabbing me with a needle. I can’t imagine if I’d ended up being able to have my entire face done – it would have driven me crazy, I’m sure.
So I go back in six weeks for another treatment, and believe you me, I am NOT looking forward to it. Hopefully it’ll help, though.
I’m still disappointed, though – I had hoped they’d be able to laser ALL the hair off my face, and sure it’s not as noticeable as if it were dark hair, but I always notice it, damnit.
Maybe I’ll invest in an at-home waxing kit and teach myself how to wax the hair off my face.
Now, THAT would be a clusterfuck, I’m sure.
* * *
One day last week the spud mentioned to me that she thought it was time for an eye checkup, because things on the blackboard at school were appearing kind of blurry to her. I asked her if she’d be interested in getting contacts, and at first she said no, but after talking to her boyfriend she changed her mind and decided she might want to get contacts. So I called and made the appointment for Monday after school.
Monday came, and I picked her up at school and we dropped her stuff off at home, and then headed out for the eye appointment. It turns out that her eyes have changed a little bit in the last two years, but not much. The optometrist said he thought that maybe her eyes were starting to level off, and there probably wouldn’t be a lot of change in the future. Then he asked her if she was interested in contacts, and she hemmed and hawed and finally I said “Yes, she would.”
So one of the women who works for the optometrist sat down with the spud and spent twenty minutes talking her through putting the contacts in. It took a long time for her to get the first contact in, and slightly less time to get the second one in, because several times once the contact was in, she’d blink immediately, and of course the contact would come back out. Once they were in, she had to take one of them out, and that took a while, as well.
Then we went over to find a new pair of glasses for her and paid for those and the contacts (I got two boxes of contacts for her, which is a six-month supply), and we headed home.
“Do you still sometimes blink when you put your contact in, and it falls out?” she asked, as I was driving toward home.
“No, I’ve been wearing contacts for….” I did some mental calculations. “Twenty-five years, so I’m used to it.”
And then I immediately fell over dead, because I am ANCIENT. How the hell is it possible that I can remember something that happened twenty-five years ago? I mean, I remember every detail of that optometrist’s office, and having him coach me through putting the contacts in and taking them out. And I remember sitting at the table with a mirror that night and not being able to get my contacts out and saying “WHYYYYYYYYYYY did I ever want contacts???”
Hell, I remember the little heating unit I used to have, where I’d have to take my contacts out, rubbing cleaning solution on them, put them in the case, and then put the case in the heating unit. And nowadays, I just pop my contacts out, put them in solution, and take them out in the morning and put them in without having to rinse them or anything.
It’s amazing how times change, ain’t it?
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Tommy in motion.
Sugarbutt, watching his brothers run around like little maniacs.
Boogie in motion (pardon the blurriness).
Tommy, hauling ass.
Sugarbutt in motion.
“WHAT are those crazy boys doing?”
Tommy in motion.
All of today’s uploaded pictures can be seen
here.
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Previously
2005: Did I really write a chapter about my sex life? Eek! What was I thinking?
2004: “YES! Yes, she’s sick! No, she’s not sleeping, she’s SICK, and SHE’S ABOUT TO DIE, NOW WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP?!”
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: It wasn’t until I said “I think she’s messed up in the head” that something clicked for her.]]>