Well, I found my keys. They were (of course) under my iPad – which I only occasionally use.
I told one of my friends that clearly, Apple was testing an invisibility app. She laughed, because her son was looking all over for his Nintendo Switch — and it was under his sister’s iPad. Which only proves my theory.
Here you go. Details available much later.
https://truthsocial.com/@realDonaldTrump/posts/110893712805150244
But I’m taking the day off for personal reasons.
I used to stumble into triangles all too easily, and while I was in one of them, I fixated on this song — because I felt the real girlfriend must be so special to claim his love. (I know, right?) Now that I’m old, I know my problem with certain men is that I am decidedly not ordinary, and it scares them. One of my friend’s husbands told me, “If I met you when I was single, I would have been too intimidated to talk to you.” So along the way, I finally realized that the right person would not be intimidated. (The other thing I learned is, just because they’re not intimidated doesn’t mean they’re the right person! But that’s another story.)
First, I couldn’t find my keys.
Then, after my mechanic dropped me off at home, I realized I left my bag in the car — with my phone. I emailed a friend and asked her to call the mechanic and tell him to email when he was done.
Oy.
You will remember I mentioned last week that I chopped half my hair off. (Which half? The bottom.)
This weekend, I dyed it a startling shade of lemon meringue hair. (I was bored, and trying to amuse myself.) The thing is, I mixed the dye wrong. There were TWO packets of powdered bleach in the kit, and I didn’t notice the second packet until I’d already mixed it up with the wet stuff. I poured in the second packet and tried to combine it, but it was too late.
This meant the bleach worked in some areas and not in others. You know the dip dye style, where people dip the ends of their hair into blue or green dye? I’m the opposite. The hair at the top is lemon meringue, and the ends are all dark.
It is, as I say, startling. And it does not look as fetching as it did when I did it the last time, which was, what, 20 years ago? Also, I forgot that when you do this to your hair, it doesn’t feel like hair anymore. It feels like straw.
As other hair-adventurous women will tell you, the most expensive salon treatment you can get is what they call “remedial” color, which calls for an appointment with The Color Specialist, made at least a week in advance. We’re talking at least a couple of hundred bucks here, and I’m just not embarrassed enough to pay that off at 28.9%. Probably I will chop it all off myself and hope for the best.
Or maybe I’ll shave my head, pretend I’m on chemo, and start a GoFundMe. It could work.
My sister and I were talking about “White House Plumbers,” the HBO series. She was shocked when I told her our dad voted for Nixon. “Are you sure?” she said.
“Yep. The second term,” I said meaningfully.
Since my dad was in every other respect a yellow dog Democrat, saying it was out of character is an understatement.
“Why would he do that?” she said. I’m not sure she believed me.
Well, I said, think about it. Catholic Poles were traditionally anti-Semitic; he once told me how worried he was about telling my grandmother I was going to marry a Jew. (Turns out all that worrying was for nothing. She said, “As long as he nice boy, who cares?” By then, most of my cousins had reproduced without benefit of marriage, so I guess she was happy it wasn’t a shotgun wedding.)
What does any of this have to do with Nixon?
When Dad was dying from pancreatic cancer, he confided to me that his vote weighed heavily on his conscience. (I think he wanted absolution before he died.)
“What made you vote for him?” I asked. Naturally, I was curious.
He said he believed what Nixon said, that he was being framed by the Jews in the media. “But I was wrong,” he said. He’d been ashamed ever since. (I can only imagine what he’d think of Trump, and how upset he would be with certain family members. I mention no names, of course!)
I told him a lot of people believed Nixon, and I let it go at that. But I finally understood why he was always so pissed off that I was loudly against the war.
Instead, what I’ll always remember is he told all of us, over and over, that there was no good reason to vote for a Republican unless you were rich.
That’s how I prefer to remember him.
I’ve been feeling antsy lately, ready for some big changes. But since I’m not in a position to make any big changes, I made a medium one: I cut off half my hair.
It was pretty long, down to the middle of my back, and it was a pain in the ass to deal with. So after I washed it, I started chopping.
I feel much better now. Lighter!
My very favorite beverage! Did you know Philadelphians drink more iced tea than anyone in the country? Neither did I. Anyway, I love it.
I’ve developed trigger finger in both hands (trigger thumb, to be specific). So I will be cutting back on posts until my hands feel better.
Unfortunately, I need to prioritize my day job. You know how it is.
If any of you have had this and successfully recovered, I’d love to hear your success stories.
Turns out there was a pre-cancerous lesion on my face, and the skin doc prescribed a VERY EXPENSIVE chemotherapy cream (let’s put it this way, the co-pay was $82) that requires me to wear latrile gloves while putting it on — and after taking the gloves off, I still have to wash my hands thoroughly. Scary! But happy to have caught it early.
