Tuesday, October 4, 2011

A Car Full o' Visors

Since returning from my trip about 2 weeks ago, it has pretty much rained in either torrential downpours or in little spittles for 20 minutes and then the tease of sunshine. This has resulted in a couple of things:

Firstly, I've discovered that I have a bottomless supply of (5 dolla! 5 dolla!) umbrellas. All of these umbrellas are kept in my bedroom, the place I almost never am when it begins to rain. In addition to those, I have two very large and long umbrellas in my car, provenance unknown, that I'm reasonably sure I've never used before. I think I need to get rid of them. That seemingly insignificant factoid has led me to accept that...

 I sincerely need to rid my apartment of unnecessary things, namely, large mountains beyond mountains of clothing I no longer wear.  I began this process over the weekend when i opened one of my closets and saw a huge mound of sweaters and it moved slightly. Turns out one of my cats was embedded underneath one of the piles and it made me feel instantly hoardy, you know? Like I was one step away from justifying keeping an empty bottle of body wash in the toilet bowl because I've run out of room elsewhere. I just can't go down that road. Plus I have seen so many wonderful things in the stores that I can't really justify buying with the amount of stuff in my closets at the moment. Yet I...

...continue to purchase clothing. This has to do with the fact that I'm very bored at work of late and that coupled with hours on the computer coupled with a shrinking waistline propels me forward to Spendyville. The internet can be an evil place for a woman just returned from Paris, a city where everyone emerges from deep sleep fully dressed in fashionable outfits and glowing skin. Kind of like most of NYC. In my neck of the woods, most people look fine, some people look supercool, other people are effortless in style like....

...that woman I was stopped behind at a red light this morning. She drove a Mercedes station wagon. (Side note: If you are going to purchase a Mercedes, just get a proper fucking Mercedes and not a station wagon, k?) She wore a visor, nestled deeply in her bottle blond curls. As we waited for the light to change, she looked in the rearview mirror to adjust the hotness that is her essence and decided that she should lose the visor. So she tossed it nonchalantly in the backseat, looked again in the mirror and reached into the passenger seat and put on ANOTHER, albeit shinier, visor. After adjusting it to perfection, she drove off into the promised land, a land where everyone is from the 80s and no one can tolerate a full hat. A visor is the fanny pack of hats, just as a Mercedes station wagon is the visor of Mercedeses. The woman I was idling behind at that light this morning may have been the fanny pack of Tuesday mornings.

That was my stream of consciousness post. Did you enjoy it? This weekend I'm taking a road trip as part of a bachelorette (aka hen) party. Expect hijinks. Expect me to write about them.

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