And now for a bit of rambling:
The Make-Up
About 2 years ago, I started having a problem with make-up. If I wear it for more than a few days in a row, my eyelids become very irritated. In fact, if I wear it too long in one day (like I put it on in the morning and come home very late and night and take it off before I go to bed), my eyelids will start itching. In fact, one morning, it caused this:
So I�ve basically stopped wearing make-up for all but special occasions. Which is kind of sad. Though my friends say I look fabulous sans make-up, I think I look super-fabulous with it. And what if special occasions fall 2 days in a row? This happens during vacations and holidays and such. And I just feel more put together with make up. So I�ve asked around and heard about this company, which is supposed to be made differently to prevent irritation and actually has anti-inflammatory properties. So I bought a bunch of stuff on eBay and I will be giving away my old make-up once it arrives. Here�s to hoping.
The Socks:
The other day, I got dressed for work (smart idea, eh?). I had put on brown pants, a camisole with brown, green, blue and purple, and a blue blazer. After looking in the mirror, I realized I didn�t really like the outfit together (there wasn�t enough blue in the camisole to pull in the blazer) so I changed to a pink and brown camisole and a pink blazer. I went to work, did my thang, came home and all that jazz. The next morning, I decided to wear black pants, a blue shirt and the blue blazer that I had not worn the day before. As I was selecting my undies and socks, I realized that yesterday, I had worn blue underwear and socks since I was originally planning a blue outfit. I was mortified. It continues to bother me days later to think that I had blue underwear and blue socks on when I wasn�t wearing any blue.
This is my OCD in action. My socks and underwear have to match my outfit, even though no one sees them. And I am horrified to think that they didn�t. Though I went the whole day that day and didn�t notice, once I became aware of it, I was bothered. And usually, when I would notice something like that, I would just change the socks and underwear and fix it and make it all better. But since that day was over, I couldn�t fix it. Instead, I have to live with the horror.
It�s stoooopid. Please help me.
Broken:
The other day, I was eating some Taco Cheez-Its . As I was eating them, I began to notice how many of the pieces were broken. It was bothering me to eat the whole, intact crackers, when there were so many broken ones in the box. I began systematically eating only the broken ones until I was left with a bag of primarily intact cheez-its. I do this with all food. If I take a handful of crackers or chips or cookies, I MUST eat the broken ones first. I like to end my snack with the intact items. I don�t know why this is. It�s not that they taste better. It�s that the broken ones offend me by there very existence and I must rid my consciousness of them. But I�m not so haughty-taughty as to throw them out. That would be wasteful!
It made me think of broken-ness in general and how as a society we eschew those things that are broken. Including people. And where does that leave people like me, that are broken inside with maladies that cannot be corrected with surgeries or medicines? I�m probably attributing too much thought to a handful of broken cheez-its, but in my mind, EVERYTHING is symbolic.
But I also realized, that although I abhor the broken food items, I tend to surround myself with broken people. I think about my tribe of friends and we are all imperfect, struggling against our own damaged lives, and try to create something beautiful out of the chaos. We band together, attracted to each other by our imperfections and ability to simple be who we are, cracks and jagged edges and all.
When the familiar becomes unfamiliar:
I was driving home from work the other day. It�s about 2 miles of street to get to the freeway. I have been driving on this street for 8 years nearly every day. Frequently, when I drive up this street, I get to a spot and think �where am I?�. Not where am I as in I have no idea where in the world I am anymore, but where on this street am I? Have I passed Lincoln yet, how far am I from the freeway, how far have I gone, do I need to start moving over to the right lane, that kind of thing. Even though I drive down this road every day, I never really see it. It�s become so familiar to me that it�s unfamiliar. I am so comfortable with my drive on this street, that I don�t even know where I am anymore. That just struck me as odd.
This concludes the mixed bag of the day.
