Live....live....live! Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death!
Monday, April 16, 2007
How do I look? Apparently........ the answer is open to interpretation.
When I woke up this morning and Gazed dreamily into my manly, yet jewel-encrusted vanity- I had trouble recognizing myself. I looked as if I had just climbed Mount Doom over the period of a year with Gollum as my only companion. Call me crazy.
Wasn't it JUST the other day that I got CARDED at Ralphs while trying to buy a pack of cigarettes without anyone taking notice? The young lady at the checkout asked to see my I.D. when I whispered my secret request. I'm pretty sure I cackled like a crazy old woman and informed her that my JACKET was over 30 years old! Still, she insisted on looking at my license and then.... her eyes bulged out of her head.... she gasped, clutching her bosom and began to chortle (en Espanol) to the (again, quite young) lady next to her station.
When she regained her composure, she asked me how old I really was. I asked her what the birth date was on my license? She looked again and said 1954. I then asked her to do the math. As I saw the puzzled expression criss-cross her bonita (and young) visage, it began to dawn on me that it was possible she might not be the brightest star in the galaxy. Call me crazy.
Was it possible, after all, that I did NOT actually appear to be somewhere between 18 and 21 years of age? My ego-crash (mere seconds after my boost) was a crushing blow. I drove home (chain smoking ) and flew to the mirror. It was only the week before that a "gentleman caller" had commented on how many mirrors there were in my home (Commonly known as the DOLL HOUSE). I had never really given it any thought but I remember looking at him quizzically (THIS, I remember- his name, not so much) and honestly not comprehending his thought process. He said that he had been watching me all afternoon- and that whenever I moved more than say, a FOOT, that I looked at myself in one reflective surface or another and that while doing so, checked out my HAIR each and every time. Honestly, I was flabbergasted. I stopped to think about it, reflect upon it, one might say.
TWELVE- Yes, I counted. Twelve mirrors in 650 square feet of living space. Didn't count the ones hanging outside in the garden (is that cheating? Oy.) Is TWELVE too many? The question hangs in the air like a grotesque spider delicately balanced on a whisper-thin dewy and glistening magical thread. The answer?
I really was completely unaware that I had (what some might say) a LOT of mirrors (most of which are after all, DECOR!) and not even conscious of the fact that I was looking at myself in each one of them as I gesticulated wildly, not unlike a frenzied Gypsy Peasant Girl (To be fair, my "friend" did not actually USE those words, yet they were still somehow implied). Call me crazy.
I'm still thinking about it all, still unsure that it's a BAD thing. My sister once suggested that it was possible that I cared too much about my appearance.......much to my chagrin. While it may be true that I look at myself periodically throughout the day, it is a rare thing indeed, to find that I am pleased with what I see. It DOES happen, truth be told. and I will admit that I have said the words (aloud)- while gazing (again-dreamily, of course) at my reflection- "Jean Claude Van Damme I look good" ! ( I heard it somewhere- I think the "Fresh Prince") Call me crazy.
Only tomorrow will tell. I may get a great nights sleep (courtesy of the Valley of the Dolls) and awake refreshed. After a shower and shave along with moisturizer from head to toe, I'll rub a little Jergens 'Natural Glow" on my face and arms (It "creates a healthy summer glow- all year long"!) and put a little product in my (cut every four weeks) hair. I find a combination of "Sheer Blonde" Healthy Attitude leave-in nourishing spray and Redken "Outshine" anti-frizz polishing milk- is just the thing. Somewhere between a splash of cologne and deciding on whether to wear 501's or board shorts- I MAY glance at myself. I might look okay. I might look like Methuselah .....but apparently, I'm going to look. Is it a bad thing?
MAYBE. Call me crazy.