1.) So, yeah. My skin's still been funky. When I was at CVS the other day, looking at moisturizers, I saw they had some kind of Aveeno colloidal oatmeal bath, which, according to the package, is dermatologist-recommended to soothe skin irritation and itch from about 30 different conditions and to clean without soap. Alrighty then. Also, I remembered that many years ago when I was a wee slip of a girl working my way through college in the nursing home, one nasty old woman on my ward who had--and I shouldn't talk, because I'm probably heading in this direction--a really disgusting skin condition, had a doctor's order for Aveeno bath. Twice a week we had to fill up the whirlpool tub for her and put it in, and thankfully, she'd take it from there. So, anyway, I figured if this stuff was dermatologist recommended 25 years ago and dermatologist recommended today, it's gotta be good, right? So I bought it.
Yesterday after work I made the executive decision that it was gonna be Chillax, Andrea, Chillax Night. I made a really nice dinner that didn't involve any turkey products (to wit: scampi with grape tomatoes over angel hair pasta) and after eating, I lit the candles in my bathroom, put the iPod speakers in there so I could play my Tibetan singing bowls CD (a sound so far from any concept of Western music that it really is other-worldly and conducive to meditation), and ran my Aveeno bath. I was in the tub, candlelit, listening to what the Buddhist monks in the Himalayas listen to when they try to become one with the universe, when I had an epiphany--it smelled like I was soaking in a huge vat of porridge and, rather than facilitating meditation or relaxation, that just made me want breakfast. Even though I'd just eaten. Sigh.
2.) Read this: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/13/fashion/13psych.html?_r=2
Are you back? Okay. Now, D's paranoia never took exactly that form when he was sick, but one of his original delusions back when he was 17, which I've referenced before, was that he had a strange and offensive body odor, and believe you me, he was able to find himself a whole internet full of people who had the same belief. There's a plastic tote down in my cellar still to this day, I believe, full of the various colon cleanses and herbal detoxes and so forth that he bought then, after finding the whole online community of people who believed they smelt funny because there's built up food rotting in their colons or some such, and were hella distressed by that.
It's true. No matter what odd and delusional belief you have, you can probably get in contact with a whole bunch of people all over the world on the internet who will happily reinforce it for you.
3.) I keep seeing white or cream-colored sofas, both for sale and in other people's rooms on rate my space, that I want. I've got a black cat and two incredibly sloppy, filthy men in this house. I cannot have a white or cream sofa. But I WANT. It kind of cracks me up.
Happy Sunday!
xoxo
2 comments:
Is there a support group for white/cream coloured sofa fanatics? Surely there must be. If not, you'll do a lastly public service by starting one.
Not bothering to correct my previous spelling errors (I know that's hopeless) but what if you were to float in an Aveeno bath, imagining that you were, say, a ripe strawberry in a bowl of Wheaties?
(ducking now)
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