Shop with the times

“Do not fear facing people without your pants; the world is dirtier than your underwear.”
~ M.F. Moonzajer

Attention shoppers!

Please strip down to your undergarments prior to entering the shopping area. Place articles of clothing inside the ziplock bag that was overnighted to you. Your first and last name, or a barcode, must appear on the attached label. If the label is missing from the bag, face the door camera and hold the bag in front of you. Wait for further instructions. Otherwise, seal/zip the bag and drop it down the chute attached to the blue bin on your right.

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Rambling love

Dear Rebecca,

First off, I’m not being critical my love. I love you as is! It is just that, well, you always seem to be in flux, eluding my mental net of insight into you, which sometimes frustrates me to no end. And so I’ve been wondering, is this a premeditated effort on your end, for the fun or adventure of keeping me guessing? This seems to be a popular pastime among younger women nowadays. Or, is this changeability the product of your young, restless mind, always channel surfing or role playing one possibility after another, never settling down for long? I think it is mostly the latter.

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Drips

Hey babe, I like playing armchair shrink, but these new revelations are killing me, coming a little too late for my comfort. You stagger the truth in small, unpredictable increments, like the haunting sound of slow, erratic drips from our leaky faucet. A kind of water torture for me, but with drips of truth, not water; each drip reverberating more ominously, more painfully than the last; always catching me off guard despite the anticipation, and piling up, one on top of the other – an acid wash of drips corroding away your sweet sugarcoating.

Drip Drip Drip Drip Drip Drip

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Desert heat

If you believe in Satan, then imagine him as a trickster, silently positioning the potholes of life where you are most likely to trip and fall into them. Watch your step! – David M. Rubin

My love, have you noticed those seemingly perfect specimens of men living at our desert complex? Oh yes, I know that you’ve noticed them, as I’ve noticed you noticing them, with their enormous muscles, cryptic tats, and whatever else that fascinates you about them. They sit around the pool – 24/7 – with cold drinks, smiles, laughs, and the pretense of texting someone; all the while watching you…always watching you…keeping one eye on you, sometimes sneaking snapshots of you wearing THAT BIKINI purchased in 110 degrees of desert heat. Required pool attire, we now call it.

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Sleepwalking

I felt “watched” whenever the moonlight streamed into my bedroom window at night, paranoid that God used the moon as his lookout – probing me from there with his powerful flashlight. I didn’t want “him” to see what I daydreamed about in my bedroom. Not that it was anything bad or abnormal for a 12 year old, but I didn’t want my parents finding out and meddling in my private stuff.

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