Somehow it seems all right that I haven’t done so much blogging lately because mcarp’s been so prolific. I know that doesn’t make any sense, but that’s my excuse.
Had a very relaxing couple of snow days here at the house. Didn’t get out except a few blocks to the 7-11 for a box of the all important cat food. Most of the time, I stayed in my robe and slippers.
Watched a couple of good movies (Clockwork Orange, e.g.) and did a little writing on my novel.
In most ways, it was a better holiday than a real holiday since I didn’t have to drive or go through a cavity search. No rushing to the museum or the bus for a tour of a landmark and no having to get used to new and different night noises in an unfamiliar bed.
I’m unpardonably disinterested in the Olympics. I just could not care less.
As we near the first of the month, I’m having my usual money worries. So silly, but it’s this way for me every month; part of the cost of being your own boss, I guess.
Spent some time with a new friend this afternoon, “Lucky”. You know it’s a good conversation if you’ve talked for three hours and when you get up to leave you think it’s only been about 45 minutes.
One of the things we talked about is my desire for a butt implant. I’m dog ass tired of having my buttbone cushioned by less than a quarter inch from the wooden pews of courtrooms and churches.
Besides, I’d like some ass to hold up my pants. Even after I’ve had pants tailored, you can still see I have absolutely no ass at all. Thanks, mom and dad.
Of course, I’m glad I don’t have a big, fat, droopy ass. I’d like an ass kind of like maybe an NFL wide receiver. Something high and round. It can’t be too big or my little stick legs would look even more strange than they already do. Just enough to let me sit comfortably for more than 3 minutes and hold up my relaxed fit jeans.
O.K., so I’m vain. Get over it. But, if you win the lottery or something and have just oodles of cash lying around waiting to be spent on one luxury item or another, wouldn’t you consider “having a little work done”?
If your answer is no, then you must be considerably younger than me. And, mcarp, you can shove your zen up your bhudda with your not knowing, not understanding, no ego stuff. I KNOW you’d have work, you former TV star, you. The rest of you over 40, c’mon. You can lie to me but you can’t lie to yourselves. You get $200 million in a lump sum and you aren’t even going to get botox and collagen? Bullshit. Maybe not this year, but two three years from now? Yeah. That’s what I thought.
O.K. So I’m the only one. Maybe The Gary.
Anyway, damn right I’d have work done.
Maybe not really a butt implant, but I’d have work.
You can harvest every hair on my body to push back the tide of my receding hairline and get ready to see me wearing Foster Grants over my eye work. What waddle?
I would lipo and re-insert, tuck, fill, freeze, dermabrade and snip and then insist I was 65 years old just to hear people say I look good “for your age”, damnable phrase that.
All that despite the fact that, as they say, the years have been good to me. Goodness, that’s true if you’d seen pictures of me from back at the dawn of time in my teens.
It doesn’t have to make sense. I’m only blogging because mcarp can’t carry the load of publishing blogblah!!!
For weeks I had been making plans for what I might do with my powerball winnings. And plastic surgery done in L.A. (might as well seek the best) was at the top of my list. I ran through the list with my best friend of what I needed to fix and I was surprised to see a horrified look on her face once I finished. She asked me what was wrong with me and what I planned to do after I had all of this work done. “Pageants,” I said. Kidding, as I am so not the pageant type and oh yeah, how many contestants are in their 30’s? Would it really make a difference in my life if I were to have my every last plastic surgery wish come true? “Perfect” looks or not I would still be who I am and I am less than thrilled with me these days.
However, if any doctor or therapist, licensed or otherwise, ever creates a real eternal sunshine/spotless mind device, I am his or her guinea pig. Or I would spend a sizable amount of a much deserved powerball jackpot for a session. . .
One question that I thought of recently: if time travel were possible is there any one moment you would go back to in your life? One moment where if you just did that one thing different, you might not be in the mess you are now? I am speaking for myself in that last sentence. I don’t know how far back I would have to go to make things “right” in my present life. Enough. . . But something to think about and an interesting question to ask your friends.