This Thanksgiving, I am not only thankful for all the wonderful things I have – I’m thankful for all the things I don’t want.
I have always been the type of girl who wants everything she sees.
I consider this an asset.
If I like everything, then it means I am really easy to please, right? Just think of how easy it is to buy me a gift, when I like a pretty notebook just as much as diamond earrings. (Okay, that may not be the best example.)
Of course, as easy as it is to buy me a present, it is dangerous for me to go shopping for myself. It is all so beautiful, I want it all. In every color.
When I got my first professional job, I also took a part-time job in a clothing store, so that I could buy some nice new clothes for my “real” job. Not only did I love all the stuff I normally love – I’d help a customer and she’d try on something I wouldn’t have considered – and I would see how cute that was too. And so I bought all my own taste in clothes and everybody else’s as well. The day I quit, I told my manager I just couldn’t afford to work there anymore.
And now that you can shop without ever leaving your house, well…now I want stuff that I have never even seen. And I can love stuff from all over the world. My desire is endless.
Because now that I am sort of mature…I have actually found a few things that I don’t want.
I am as interested in staying young as the next person – (okay, quite a bit more than the next person). But my idea of young is not exactly the History Room at Madam Tussaud’s Wax Museum. Nicole Kidman is a very beautiful woman, but I think she might be just as beautiful if her forehead …um… moved.
Otherwise known as tattoos. I love makeup. I wear it every single day. But I don’t want my eyeliner inked in permanently. For God’s sake, Styles CHANGE. How silly would I look now if I had my Twiggy lashes tattooed under my eyes in 1968? Yes, I have to put on my makeup every single day. But you have to be pretty lazy to think it’s too much trouble to draw a little line on your eyelids in the morning.
A STAR NAMED AFTER ME.
I can’t tell one star from another – even the famous ones. But you can now buy one of the insignificant stars and have it named after you or a loved one. I may be naive – but even I don’t exactly believe that those star-registry websites sell you a star, and don’t sell the same star to a
boatload rocketshipload of other fools who wouldn’t know the difference.
– Yes, see that star over there – that little dot next to all the other little dots – well that one is named Nancy.
– Ja, siehe diesen Stern dort – die kleine Punkt neben all den anderen kleinen Punkte – gut, das mann mit dem Namen Heidi.
– Si, ver esa estrella alla – que pequeno punto al lado de todos los otros pequenos puntos – asi que uno se llama Consuelo.
I love all my little kitties. And if I had a dog, I would love my doggie too. I don’t have a dog only because I came to my senses just before I walked out of the Agway with Bob, the no-tail little rescue mongrel that was blackmailing me with those big sad eyes. But as much as I baby all my cats, I don’t dress them up. They don’t have Halloween costumes or Santa suits. Shit, they don’t even have store-bought toys. I tend to wad up a piece of paper and say, “Here’s a ball!”
I have a friend who has a magnet on her dishwasher. It has a little arrow that points to “Clean” or “Dirty.” I admit that my husband calls me at work to ask “Are the dishes in the dishwasher clean?” So yes, those phone calls might be prevented. Instead he would call to ask “Is the arrow pointing to ‘Clean’ right?”
Yes, the wave of the future is tweeting your resume. I had a hard enough time getting my resume to two pages. Future resumes (and hiring decisions) will be based on 140 characters. Good thing I am close to retirement age.