Anxiety, Culture

The Geritol Gang

folgrWhile at the place where much of my life unfolds, Safeway, I learned something interesting about Hawaii youth. Don’t worry this has nothing to do with boy’s peeing. The cashier told me that I had just missed all the excitement. He went on to explain that a bunch of kids ran out of the store in an attempted robbery. I wasn’t impressed. He shared with me the cell phone pic of the kids being apprehended in the parking lot. Still not impressed.

However, he then enlarged one of the pics detailing the booty that these juvenile delinquents stole and I was shocked…at the lameness.  For immediate barbecue and consumption they stole meat. They also stole alcohol in order to sell to liquor shops. OK, fine, this is getting a bit interesting. In addition to the meat and booze, they steal Folgers Coffee and Tide Pods. What the fuck? Who steals laundry detergent and coffee? My brain can’t even wrap itself around the pods, but the guy on-line behind me chimed in and said, “Yep, Tide is a big seller out there. People want the Tide.” The coffee makes the least amount of sense to me because we are in Hawaii where Kona coffee is the big draw. Maybe that’s just for tourists and the locals prefer Folgers?

PATROn the two-minute drive home, I realized the items I would have stolen as a young teenager would be vastly different from the items I would steal as I approach 50-years-of age. The younger me would have stolen panty hose, because if I lived on the mainland and worked in New York City, this would have made perfect sense. I would have stolen several pairs of tweezers, because I have thick eyebrows and a uni-brow is never in style. Makeup…a shitload of costly make up. Us females are basically paying for the packaging of this stuff anyway. Mine as well steal a bit to make up for the difference.

LEGGS

As an old coot, I would steal batteries for my….use your imagination. Maxi-pads for my Aunt Flow. Tylenol for both my Aunt Flow and the headaches that usually accompany the phone calls made to family. Tweezers because a uni-brow is still not in style and as my memory deteriorates I lose them constantly. Ear plugs for my ears which get more sensitive yearly to the sounds of outdoor life which annoy me; kids playing basketball, dogs barking non-stop, sirens of any sort and my least favorite sound of all time – people schlepping their plastic garbage bins up and down their driveways. Our driveways are only a few feet in length. What are these people doing with their garbage? I swear it sounds as if they are square dancing with those damn garbage pins.

When my ‘want to steal’ list includes Tylenol and maxi-pads and no longer contains make up and panty hose, it might be time to admit I’m old as dirt.

 

 

 

 

 

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Depression

Is Ignorance Bliss and Beauty?

Shar-pei puppy, Beanie, looking over his shoulder
WANTED TO PUT A PIC OF AN ELDERLY INDIVIDUAL HERE, BUT TERRIFIED THAT THEY MIGHT SEE IT, EVEN THOUGH THAT MAKES NO SENSE. 

While having an inane conversation with a friend about our dogs anal glands, one of us started discussing our wrinkly faces. Like morons, we each tried to out-wrinkle each other. She made a face while raising her eyebrows to the sky, pointed to her forehead and said, “look at these babies, you could sink a ship in there.” I followed while pointing at the bridge of my nose, “check out that sucker, you would need a map and a compass to get out of there.”

 

Then it struck me. If ignorance is bliss does this mean that people who stress out will not only live a shorter life than those who don’t, but will they also be uglier?  While I know it’s physically bad that I eat crap food, don’t exercise as much as I should, and can’t sleep through the evening, these activities don’t necessarily lead to looking like a Shar-pei.

Not to be overly dramatic, because I would never do that….but basically is my face being punished because I’m concerned over my bank account, my idiot friends, and my exhausting job? Can’t the powers that be leave just leave my face out of it?

In addition to the life saving work that Mother Theresa did, one can’t help but notice she had some serious wrinklage going on there. Yes, I know she was 200 years old, but isn’t it a cruel, cruel world when someone is basically a saint and isn’t given a pass when it comes down to aging?

Good thing I don’t do anything for anyone. : )