Cleanup on Aisle Seven

When I was at the Food Lion not too long ago, a lady in front of me was looking for her glasses, and I pointed and said, “They’re right there, on the conveyance belt.” It didn’t occur to me until I was almost to the car that what I meant was “conveyer”. I’ve never shopped there again. Here are just a few items floating through my mind that have been price-checked and beeped, and are ready to be bagged:

Jess was telling me a dream he had that featured, among other savoury bits, a female witch doctor handing him a stone covered with symbols. I told him that was clearly a message from his primeval ancestors, that the collective unconscious was attempting to tell him something, and that I can’t wait until he begins to read Jung’s philosophies in his studies. He then told me that he was going to stick with the purely Freudian notion that his dream was about either death, or sex. Smartaaaasss. I’ve always known there’d come a day he knows more than me, and I’m beginning to think maybe it occurred sometime last week, and I missed it. The thought is both frightening, and exhilarating.

Clare, my titian hair WILL indeed be flowing behind me as I walk on the beach, because Nines, I did indeed dye it back to glorious red. I’m, basically, screwed, because when I get old? I’m afraid I’m going to look like Lucille Ball, all wrinkly skin and red hair, in that I don’t know how to make a graceful transition to grey. I imagine this will involve an intricate and complex system of ever-increasing highlights and lowlights, none of which I’m adept at creating myself, and how am I going to afford going to the hairdresser on social security alone, when all I can afford to eat is cat food in my sweltering section 8 trailer house?

You are never too old to have your heart broken, but I still recommend it. It’s worth all the pain in the world to be loved, and to love somebody back.

I’m not sure what I’ll do today. One thing’s sure, though: Arrested Development, season 3, is coming in the mail today, so at dinnertime Jess and Torie and I are going to huddle around the tv watching it while we munch on Nana San’s hibachi chicken, steamed rice, and mixed vegetables. Except Jesse always gets beef. And the good times, they keep a-rollin. Love to you all! kiss xo