Miracle Cream, Hypochondria, And A Dearth Of Kittens

In case you were wondering just what a midlife crisis looks like when it takes place in Costco, this would be it:

My goal is not to frighten people with my face. That is all.

Yeah, those items somehow found their way into my cart. Supposedly, the cream on the left takes only a week to start working; so I assume when Larry comes home from his 10-day business trip, he won't even recognize me.

Also, I managed to mail that book to Lisa G. the VERY NEXT DAY! This type of punctuality is unheard of in the history of this blog, so then I spent the next 5 days congratulating myself on my efficiency and didn't realize until, um, NOW that I've been neglecting you all.

So, hi! Currently I am telling myself that the obvious cold and/or flu symptoms I'm experiencing are nothing. NOTHING. Tomorrow I will wake up hale and hearty, as all I need are copious amounts of orange juice and a good night's sleep to beat this thing back.

I HAVE to beat this thing, actually. Larry's away, which means I'm in charge of all teen transportation around here, so I can't afford to be sick right now. I'm hoping these are just psychosomatic symptoms engendered by my reading one too many articles about the 1918 flu pandemic and how awful it was.

OMG, click and look at that headline, will you? It's a hypochondriac's nightmare.

I started knitting a sweater last week - I've never knit one before, because I find the whole idea rather intimidating; but this was a new pattern that is supposed to be easy and I happened to have the right yarn on hand and suddenly there I was, knitting part of the back and then picking up stitches for the front like a boss. A BOSS, I tell you...

Trust me, it's an incipient sweater

So! I was showing off my progress to some knitting friends yesterday morning and one of them said, "That doesn't look right."

Now, understand, there wasn't even much to see - just 6 inches or so of the top front and top back.

"What?" I said, startled. "Where?"

"There," she said. "By the armhole - it should be straight."

"Oh, I followed those directions EXACTLY," I said proudly. "I KNOW it's right."

"It's not right," she said.

And, yeah, it wasn't. So I got to pull it out and start over. If my friend hadn't noticed my mistake, I would have merrily knitted that entire sweater with the neckline increases at the armholes. Thank goodness knitters adhere to the IF YOU SEE SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING school of thought.

I know, no one wants to hear about knitting. What I should do is, I should foster kittens. Another blogger is fostering CUTE WIDDLE KITTIES and all of us readers cannot get enough of her pictures featuring their adorable little ears and paws and tiny little noses. Half-done knitting projects just can't compete, that's for sure.

But yarn doesn't poop, so there's that.

Time for my next dose of orange juice. I'll talk at you tomorrow, unless of course I'm dead from flu by then. In my mind, that's always a possibility.


Comments

  1. Keep us posted on your new, smooth face! I talked to my dermatologist a few years ago about all the anti-aging skin care that friends and family were trying to sell me and how expensive all that stuff is. My dermatologist who was a large, no nonsense woman in her 60s (who did have really smooth skin) announced that everything I needed for that kind of skin could be found at the drug store for a fraction of the cost. I might be ready to do the research and take the plunge. I have downgraded my skin scare from R&F to Cindy Crawford's Meaningful Beauty. My skin feels fantastic. Not sure it looks as good as it feels and Cindy's stuff is still plenty expensive. Not nearly as expensive as the initials one though, so there is that.

    I think I am afraid of knitting and stick with my crochet because I can vividly remember my sister knitting a beautiful sweater back in high school. She was almost done and found a mistake. I can still see her on her bed crying and ripping that sweater apart. She scared me so bad, I can remember running to get my mom to try and stop her. It was too late. To my knowledge, she never picked up knitting needles again and I have been traumatized, ever since!

    Yarn does not poop, spread pine litter all over the house, or eat Fancy Feast, so there's that.

    I refuse to click on the flu link, by the way, ignorance, in this case is, bliss.

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  2. Without a doubt - keep us up to date on that miracle cream! And yes, those kitties are precious.

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  3. I am really skittish about creams too. So many have caffeine, and I remember rubbing one on my face and neck, going to bed, and lying awake all night. Turns out it isn't a good idea to rub caffeine on a hyperactive thyroid if you want to sleep.

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  4. Oh your messed up sweater reminds me of a sewing story . . . I took a learn to sew class when I was pregnant with Laddie. My sister took the same class. She had taken the class before but was looking to learn more. So, she was a bit more experienced. She was so proud of the pants she was making. When she held them up, they looked like they would only work for a mermaid. Oh, the look on her face! She sewed the wrong seams together. It was still very early in my pregnancy - hadn't told anyone including my sis my news. I was very nauseous and there were nights I just really didn't want to attend b/c I didn't feel well. I had to fake feeling 'normal' during class. The mermaid pants episode had me positively howling, which made sneaking crackers and trying not to look 'green' totally worth it.

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  5. I'm terrible at follow-through with a beauty regimen; however, my skin would appreciate if I did something helpful, so please tell us if it works!

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