Worst-Ever Haircut

Sheeesh. Who takes pictures of their worst hair cuts?

I have a bad habit of snipping away at my hair myself when it annoys me. Then several scissor-happy sessions later when I see an actual hairdresser and she tells me my cut is all uneven I just say oh, I know, that idiot who did my last trim was SO stupid…..

Surprisingly enough, I’m rather good at cutting other people’s hair. You know, as long as they’re not going anywhere special for at least two weeks.

All you have to do to get good at it is to practice a lot; on dolls, younger siblings and your own children. Then when your spouse asks you to give him a haircut you will know that you’ve either become extremely talented or he just doesn’t give a damn what he looks like anymore.

As long as he doesn’t end up resembling Donald Trump, I figure I’ve done a pretty good job.

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Close Your Eyes

My work life has been wrapped around eyeballs for twenty years. I’ve worked for eye surgeons and optometrists and have a dual opticians license (glasses and contact lenses.) Why anyone in their right mind in the normal world would want to sit down for a half hour reality show about that is hard to fathom.

But I think people might tune in to a show with an unusual name, so I’ve made a list of possibilities:

Perilous Optical Exploits of the Impoverished Unknown

Optical Delusions

The Naked Eye for the Single Guy

A Sight for Sore Eyes

Fix Your Eyes on This

I Wear My Sunglasses at Night

Adventures in Visual Acuity

The Perceptive Perspicacity of Percy’s Pupils

Depth Perception

Short Sighted Shockers

The Prehistoric Presbyope

I’m pretty sure it took longer to type this list than the show would last before being cancelled for lack of interest. Or perhaps even lack of notice in the first place, except maybe for some excessive eye rolling.

I like my life and what I do, but putting it out there and expecting other people to find it entertaining?? Not in the least realistic.

(Although a cartoon show about a kid named Percy who perceives perplexing peculiarities has its possibilities. For fun tongue twisters that make your eyes cross, if nothing else.)

Dreaming About No Job At All

My dream job would be to sit at home, read books, play on the computer and write incredibly interesting stories all day long, getting paid millions of dollars every two weeks for doing any or all of those things.

Unfortunately I can’t find this position advertised anywhere and fear that right now no one is hiring.

A dream job I imagine should involve doing something you’re good at and enjoy, so my second choice would be to become a national frame buyer for our optical department. Because whoever is doing it now is a flaming moron. I might also turn out to be a moron at it, but certainly NOT a flaming one.

If we had some awesomely incredible frames on our frame bars perhaps I would stop inwardly cringing whenever someone asks me for help choosing eyewear. Or maybe it’s just a conditioned response and there’s no cure for it, I don’t know.

I am so excited to be taking 6 weeks off (three more working days to go!) so that I can start collecting early CPP. It’s just one more little baby step towards retirement which I never thought I would long for, but there it is. This six weeks will be a mini preview of things to come.

Well! Is that not my dream job coming true? Except for the millions of dollars part, which I suppose I could get by without if there’s no way around it. I want to write, even though I may be a flaming moron at that. As long as no one tells me, ignorance is bliss, and I’ll keep blathering away. And to have the time to read and read and read – heaven on earth.

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Changing Traditions

What is My Most Non-Traditional Holiday Tradition?

This question has me seriously stumped. I’ve always thought of a tradition as being some practice or custom passed down through generations. Rituals of long standing. Conventions particular to beliefs which are deeply important and therefore should not be altered.

Well, big fail for me and my immediate family if there’s supposed to be some kind of continuity in how we celebrate holidays. We’re doing well if a ‘tradition’ lasts more than a couple of years in a row.

The only consistent thing I can think of that our family has ever done is to have ridiculously huge meals to celebrate occasions. Although there’s often no rhyme or reason to when or where or who gets invited.

When we were growing up we rarely celebrated Christmas or birthdays on the exact calendar day. Mom would arrange a date based on everyone’s convenience and ability to attend. (My birthday dinner was likely to happen some day or other in May. Early or late, it was no big deal, and often shared with someone else whose special day was however remotely close.)

Our Christmas dinner might just as easily be on the 20th of December as the 30th. Or maybe even the first Sunday in January if that’s when it suited people. When I met W. and discovered that his family observed their Christmas eve on the 24th of December each and every year no matter what I thought he must be joking, but he was dead serious about how it should be done.

So our kids celebrated on the exact proper day until they were off on their own and figuring out their own traditions. One of which, surprisingly enough, has become to pick a convenient day for “Christmas” (usually a few days early) so that there is more “after Christmas” time to spend with family (playing with new toys) before they have to head home and go back to work.

I’ve come to think of the random-day festivities as a tribute to my mom. So maybe our odd tradition is being basically traditionless, flying by the seat of our collective pants and making up the rules as we go along. It’s kind of fun to have a holiday looming and no set plan in place, no hundred and one things that you MUST get done by the dreaded deadline.

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Beam Me Up

Always liked the idea of beaming myself somewhere and skipping the wait at the airport or the long hours cooped up in a car. I know getting there is supposed to be half the fun, but sometimes it actually isn’t.

Wishing for something is one thing, having it as a real possibility is another thing entirely. Teleportation is a scary concept, so I’m sure I’ll be one of the skeptical people who holds back and waits to see how it goes for all those adventurous types before trying it out myself.

Chances are good that I’ll be a strong advocate for wormholes as a viable alternative, and a safer mode of transportation. Taking a speed-of-light shortcut through space and time while keeping the traveller intact has a certain appeal over being disassembled and put back together. Jumpgates, portals, stargates – could we please try those things first?

All in all, it sounds like a whole new way to lose your luggage, never mind the various molecules that might go missing en route to your destination. Missing fat molecules I could deal with, but the rest of my bits and pieces I’m not so sure I want to risk being without. Call me pathetically old-fashioned, but I’m kind of happy with my present continuity of existence.

I don’t want to arrive all messed up in some strange place being told to pull myself together and having no clue how to do that. So go ahead and beam yourself halfway across the planet, work out all the beaming kinks and hitches, and hopefully by the time teleportation is safely perfected I’ll be too damn old to care where I am or how I got there.

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Final, Pre-Meteor Moments

on the last day of my life

I will put on red shoes

and a warm fuzzy sweater

and wrap myself in comforting nothingness

my mantra, my meditation

from darkness to light

from ignorance to truth

from animosity to peace

from death to immortality

all reassuring nonsense

to quiet the fear

keep the panic at bay

not years

not days

but hours

minutes

still the universe is sound

though one small part of it crumbles

life is terminal

sweet

with soothing red shoes

and fuzzy tranquility

given up with a sigh

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Boredom is so Boring

"The world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings." Robert Louis Stevenson

Being idle enough to become bored is such a luxury, I aspire to it daily. But there's always something to do so boredom rarely presents itself for my perusal.

As children we learned never EVER to say the "B" word around our mom, because her miracle cure for that was to find us something work related to do. And in a big old farm house beside a field sized garden the possibilities were endless. Best to keep busy with some kind of absorbing project of our own making, preferably out of auditory range.

By no stretch of the imagination am I the most interesting person I know, but for some oddball reason I thoroughly enjoy my own company. I love my computer and my I-Phone and my DSI. There are so many games to play, and some of them, believe it or not, acutally require brain cell activity. I would consume the contents of ten books a day if it were possible to do that. It's incredibly interesting and exciting for me to flip through the movie channels on tv and then find something better to do with my time. Like making long lists of things I should be working on and then getting sidetracked by that thousand page novel I've set aside for a rainy afternoon.

There is just no room for boredom in my life. Or yours either. Even though this little blurb may have bored the living shit out of you. (I just threw that in there because I could sense your attention wandering…..)

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squirrel seeks chipmunk

I just finished reading this curious little book which I purchased today and could not put down until it was finished.  It’s illustrated by the guy who did the Olivia books.  I think I might have to read it all again.   Not because I didn’t get the dark fable thing or that it shows so well how bizarre and insane we all are, but simply because it was delicious fun to read the stories.  It left me wanting more david sedaris, that’s for sure.

My Celebrity Choice of the Day

I don't expect my chosen celebrity will be a wildly popular answer today. But since I don't know any celebrities personally, it's unfair and ludicrous for me to be picking one as my favourite based purely on conjecture or how they sing or act or look all fixed up and air brushed for a magazine cover. But that's sort of what I'm doing anyway. For the sake of an answer.

So Simon Cowell it is. Why? Because he appears to be brutally honest about absolutely everything. He is not at all stand-offish about voicing his opinions. He says what he thinks. His insults are never purely for the sake of being rude, although he invariably ends up sounding somewhere between cheeky and boorish and looking all surprised when someone takes offense. I get the feeling that, no matter what, he will tell you the truth. Even if you didn't ask and have no desire to hear it. He's the guy who says pretty much exactly what the rest of us are thinking but are too meek and polite to say out loud.

So, love him or hate him, he is who he is. There is nothing fake about Simon.

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