Silly things I should not be allowed to do

I should not be allowed to go shopping for things to put on my body when I am having a bad hair or bad face day. This goes double when I am having both at the same time.

I need to buy a necklace to go with my Christmas party dress, because the other 30 in my collection just aren't riiiight. So, I attempt to do this yesterday with my hair "artfully" up in bobby pins (I really dislike you Tina for showing me this can be done)... Needless to say, my hair is against being artfully up at all and the bobby pins started shooting out almost as soon as I got in the car. To top it all off, I had a blush incident that left me looking like a bad case of rosacea had come to live on my face. Did I buy jewelry? No.

Did the urge to buy things leave me?

No.

So, I went to Michael's where ALL I was going to buy was some poinsettias to put in the Christmas tree. But, they had these wreaths and this gawdy shiny stuff and $50 later, I was at home building a wreath. Frankly, I'm agains the gawdy shiny stuff, but Scott seems to really like it and he really likes things more than I really don't. So, whatever. We have mad sparkly, borderline tacky wreath for the front door now.

That was yesterday. Today, still, I have not bought the jewelry. I mention this to my godmother who suggests that she has seen some things that I may like at Target. I'm not feeling very well, the creeping crud that Scott has had managed to find it's way into my throat. (I'll let you use your imagination to figure out how it got there...) But, I really need to find this jewelry stuff and I want to get it over with. Again, no success. But, again -- has the urge to buy has not dissipated. I amble over to the cosmetics aisle, which is one of THE single most dangerous places for me to be alone. (Second only to a bookstore.) I will wander up and down for hours. Staring at colors and trying to imagine how they will look on me. I generally wind up settling on a lipstick that I will never, ever wear. Today, I managed to sate the beast with some accent eye shadow, but I really wanted the lipstick. It was the Color of Hope, damn it. Who wouldn't want their lips to be the color of Hope?? Honestly, I have a realy hard time resisting the lipstick buying. I know I have the lips for it, I know that it's almost an Angelina Jolie like crime that I don't. But, I don't. It's just too much trouble. I hate putting it on because I don't know how and I get all of the bleeding lines. IF I manage to get it right, then I have to keep it on. And in order to do that I usually have to not eat anything (Like THAT'S going to happen) or you have to keep putting it on.

Tomorrow? I'm heading out with my mom to try to find the jewelry again. I wonder what consolation prize I'll end up with this time...?

Stuffin'

Here's the thing. People sometimes think I am a little Grinchy around Christmas. I complain about the commercialization. I grouse about the shopping and the crowds and the wrapping and all of it.

I don't really get into the spirit.

Here's why. I don't like stuff. I have too much stuff and most of the stuff I have I don't really like. I can do my own version of the George Carlin routine. When I want stuff, I go get the stuff. There's not much stuff that I REALLY want that is out of my reach. But, I have not reached the stage of self-actualization to suggest giving the stuff money to a better cause. Instead, I suggest spending time together doing something that both the other person and I would enjoy doing. Eating dinner, getting our toes done, shopping for shoes, whatever.

I suppose I should not subject others to my stuff issues. After all, I don't really have a problem if they want stuff and I don't really mind being the one to give them the stuff. The main reason I try to avoid the stuff exchange is to prevent the other person from feeling obligated to give me stuff in exchange for the stuff I gave them. Think about it. How many times have you bought someone a gift entirely because you knew they were going to buy you one? It's never ending. Or you bought them a gift and they didn't buy you one. Then next year, they buy you a gift and so you have to get them a gift because they did. They didn't want to buy you anything but you got them something last year...

On and on and on.

It's crazy. Some of my friends have pointed out how much they enjoy going out and finding the thing and giving the thing and seeing the person's reaction when they open the thing. O-kay. Yeah.

Well, I agree with this. Because it's hard to find a middle ground. Not having anything to open on Christmas is shitty.

Shitty.

But having to deal with the stuff after the opening.

Ick.

That's shitty too.

So, perhaps there could be things to open but not stuff. And there are still things that I would like to get. Like books. And skydiving lessons. (Heh, heh.) And spa gift certificates. And books, did I mention that?

That's another blog. The books.

Maybe the certificates and stuff could be wrapped. Or just gifts that don't cost much money and aren't material. Like, promises of foot rubs and an hour without the tv on. (This is a gift I would actually be willing to pay for.) And so. Slips of paper and then wrapped up.

I don't know. Maybe if I had a whole Christmas completely without stuff, I would change my mind. I would miss the stuff.

But, I sort of doubt it.

At least, not until I get a bigger house.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE! Remember there can be stuffing without stuff!

help?

The stupid navigation stuff is on the bottom of the page. How did it get there? How do I get it back? (Previous posts and all that.)

I don't like it.

Bloody hell!

I keep fucking not blogging and then feeling bad about it. AND WHY? Why do I feel bad about not writing? Should I not be writing for fun?

I don't think I should spend the time I am writing bemoaning the fact that I don't write. This is one of the things I CONSTANTLY used to do when I kept a private journal. If you read my journal and extrapolated all of the parts where I apologize (ultimately to myself... well, and as it turned out also to my mother) for not having written, then years of journalling could be abbreviated to just a couple of years.

I was thinking about the journalling thing not that long ago. It used to be a BIG thing with me, big part of who I thought I was, and so forth. Because, I suppose, I used to imagine that I was going to Write. You know, important things that would be read and of course since I was going to be writing these important things that would be read than "the public" would probably want to know Who I Was Back Then.

Yes, I had an overly active imagination.

Apparently, not overly active enough to translate into the actual writing of things. But this fantasy persisted for quite some time. It's only been since my 20's in fact that I realized that I was not going to write anything and more so, that I was pretty okay with not writing thing as the actual writing would have taken time away from more important things. Like watching tv, talking on the phone and thinking about my hair -- VERY important pastimes.

One of the reasons I was thinking about this journalling thing is because of "the list." I have this list of things I came up with that I hadn't done and wanted to do. And I wrote the list 5 years ago and decided to pull it out.

Well, it's really sad because I have not done even one thing on that list. I'm wishing I had not found the list. These aren't even really crazy things, actually. Some of them are pretty basic. Some of them I do not want to do anymore, and some of them I can't believe I wanted to do then. (Which just goes to show you how worthless 5 year plans REALLY are, because 5 years later who knows who the fuck you're going to be and what you're going to want??)

Anyways, for the purposes of sharing... for your examination, but not too much criticism please...

• go sky diving
• go sailing
• go to Europe (my note was to see Paris and Ireland and England and Italy and all of the other countries I'm too ignorant to know anything about)
• go on a whale watch
• visit all 50 state capitols (note: would need to find out what they are, ha ha)
• learn karate
• learn how to make pottery with a wheel (I had probably just seen Ghost)
• fly a kite
• see the Northern lights
• skinny dip somewhere exotic (at least I have since skinny dipped -- or in my case, chunky dunked -- but nowhere exotic)
• have something published (ah ha -- the writer fantasy still at play!)
• learn how to play an instrument (no, Scott, that is not an instrument)
• go water skiing (okay, came close on this one -- got pulled in a tube and that was fun, although not very flattering)
• paint a picture on canvas (good thing I didn't specify that it had to be any good)
• work for a radio station (Why did I want to do this?)
• acquire an enviable cd collection (even then I didn't know why I wanted this according to my note)
• watch someone give birth (really not sure why I wanted to do this -- perhaps I didn't realize that The Baby Story was on TLC)
• refinish a piece of furniture
• fly in a hot air balloon
• learn how to develop film (again, this might be cool, but no overwhelming desire to learn how now)

And that was it.

It's funny the little things we think we want. The things that entice us and attract us and that we think will fulfill and complete us. The bottomless cup you keep on filling again and again.

Sorry, wandered down a blue path. Think I'll follow it to the wine downstairs. G'night!