Tuesday, March 24, 2015

I've got a Nose for Love

I fell in love for the first time when I was a freshman in high school. I knew it was the Real Thing because the emotion inspired in me a hormonal surge that sprouted a zit on the very tip of my nose the size of which had, to my knowledge, never been seen before within the city limits.

The target of my affection, a man who was very beautiful, a little dangerous, and very, very gay, was duly impressed at this visual manifestation of my feelings for him--so much so that he drew a happy face on it with a black felt-tipped art pen. 

We named her Bertha. Bertha the Love Zit.

Thus began a tradition of naming my most spectacular blemishes. So allow me to introduce you to today's special guest, Glenda. 

Glenda must have heard that I'll be seeing The Breakfast Club on the big screen next week and assumed it was 1985, because it's been a while since I've seen the likes of her. This is only Day 1, so she'll prolly be extra sexy when I go back to teach tomorrow. Go for the gold, Glenda! There are 80 kids in my first class, and you don't want the ones in the back row to miss you!

Friday, March 20, 2015

Thank you, 16-year-old Giantess...

...for dressing like a demented granny instead of a cheerleader. Cuz THAT would be a lot harder for me to pull off these days.

Yes, still with my feet planted firmly (and ever more gleefully) in Midlife Crisis Mode, it is now time to replace my formerly reasonable responsible depressing summer wardrobe with . . . clothes I would have worn in high school. 

I'm 40. I gather it's how we roll. 

Now, before you glance at the photo below and jump to vile conclusions about how I spent my tender youth, I'll have you know that this is, according to Amazon, a "50s sundress." 

I guess that explains why both my parents come from such large families.

Aaaaaanyway, although my current shift toward a work-at-home lifestyle would, in fact, make such attire completely office-appropriate, I went ahead and opted for something slightly more demure. Though my newly rediscovered interest in polka-dot swing dresses and 60s-print paisley shifts is probably no more age-appropriate at 40 than it was when I was 16, I feel pretty good about the fact that I give even less of a damn now than I did back then what anyone has to say about it. #mymidlifemyrules