Saturday, April 2, 2011


I have a pair of reading glasses in every room in my house, except the bathroom, and in my briefcase and my car. Not ugly Dr. Walgreen's readers, really cool one's my friend Sandy finds for me with her catalog shopping addiction. I can't read without them and could seriously injure myself trying to cook without them.

For some reason, these 6 or 7 pairs of glasses annoy the hell out of the Man Toy, especially when I can't find any of them. "You need glasses." "I have glasses." "No, real glasses." "I don't want real glasses." "Why not?" "They are expensive and I don't look good in them." "So get contacts." "I don't look good in those either." "Woman, you are insane."

This is not the first time I have been called insane. It is a pretty common insult/description applied to me and really doesn't bother me at all. I am what I am, wonderful, talented, ridiculously intelligent, creative, funny, loyal, and really fucking hot. Did I  mention egotistical?

What we have here is a truly fine example of misinterpretation of word definition usage. The Man Toy is no dummy. He is in fact the only man I have ever met who is as smart as me, perhaps the only human. (Ok, I have a few more super smart friends, you know who you are.) But he misinterprets my usage all the time. I am beginning to see that this is a lifelong flaw of mine, using purposefully vague language to steer the subject away from my real meaning. That is not insanity, it’s not lying, it is withholding the full truth of meaning. Self defense mechanism learned early.

On my birthday I was chatting via internet with some friends about the whole age/needing glasses thing and, deja vu, the exact same conversation script was repeated by another man. Since it was my birthday and I had consumed mass quantities I was a bit more forthcoming in definitions.

I don't look good in glasses. I don't look good in contacts. The reason I don't look good is because I can see what I really look like in the mirror, and I am appalled I look so old. This vision continues to be a shock, though it really is nothing new. It seems the fixed image of myself in my head arrested at around age 35. And somehow, "You really are hot for your age" is just not a compliment. "Wow, you used to be a babe" tends to enrage me. The ManToy pinching a sag while giggling makes me remind him of my most Significant Superpowers and how he really wants to keep me feeling as hot as I look in my head.

Vanity has never been one of my flaws. I never go to extraordinary lengths to make myself look better, hell, I almost never even wear make up. But sheesh somehow this birthday is making me want to spend the kitchen/bathroom remodel fund on some major cosmetic surgery.
(January 09)

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