The other day I bought new eyeshadow. It said it was for blue eyes, and it had 3 colors: brown, gray/blue, and silver. You're supposed to get all fancy and layer them artistically. I don't. I slap on one color, use eyeliner and a dash of mascara, and call it good.
So what color would I use of the three? Certainly not the silver. That was for highlighting under the arch of the eyebrow. Brown? Perhaps. To see, I did up one eye in brown. But what about the gray? I did up the other eye in the gray eyeshadow, which actually turned kind of a blue/gray once it was on my eyelid. I couldn't decide which eyeshadow I liked best, so I decided to do some chores around the house and think about it. And of course I promptly forgot I was wearing two starkly different colors on my eyes.
So naturally I went shopping like that. Ran errands here and there, and it wasn't until I got home and happened to glance at myself in the bathroom mirror that I realized why people had been giving me odd looks. I felt like a Siberian Husky with one brown eye and one blue. I love getting old and senile.
I had a blast at my sister's yesterday! After our Easter dinner, my sister Lori helped me make a dress-maker's dummy for myself. The materials included 3 rolls of duct tape (2 silver and 1 white), plus an old T-shirt. The process involved my donning the old T-shirt and then having Lori cover my torso in several layers of duct tape. That's the piebald finished product above. You can see the hemline of the T-shirt at the bottom. You can't tell in the picture, but it's like wearing a body cast. I could barely move, and I certainly couldn't bend at the waist or raise my arms. Oh, how we laughed as we applied layer upon layer of tape while my brother-in-law just shook his head. And hot? My gosh, I got so hot inside my duct tape prison that we had to finish the job outdoors on my sister's cold and breezy back deck.
I found the duct tape idea on the Internet when I was pricing dressmaker's dummies and discovered they were beyond my budget. I printed out the instructions, and then Lori taped me from my neck down to upper thigh. It took about 2 hours, and thank goodness I had enough presence of mind to visit the bathroom before we started! Once finished, Lori used a sturdy pair of scissors to cut the back open along the spine, from neck to butt. I carefully pulled the form off my body and was thrilled to see that it maintained my plump little dumpling shape. *g*
I'd been fortunate enough to find the torso of a male mannequin at Goodwill the week before, so I bought it, figuring once I made my duct tape dummy and wriggled out of it, I could place it over the store mannequin torso, tape up the back, and then pad it out with wadded up paper and plastic bags. It worked perfectly, and I'm amazed at how sturdy my new dressmaker's dummy is! Now, instead of having to put on a garment dozens of times as I make it, then struggling back out of it without getting stuck by pins, I can use my new dressmaker's dummy! And all it cost me was the price of a few rolls of duct tape and a few hours of my time. Here's the dummy after I stuffed it with tons of plastic bags and a few old towels.
This post is about people who say, "I hate rules." (Often said in a superior, I'm so important I don't have to follow rules tone) I'm a traditionalist, and I usually follow rules. I believe most rules have a reason for being, and most often those reasons are based on sound concepts. There are grammar and punctuation rules. Traffic rules. Mathematics rules. Construction and architecture rules. And many more rules too numerous to mention. These rules provide sound guidance. They are there for our safety (construction architecture, traffic, instruction manuals), for clear communication and expression of ideas (grammar, punctuation), for calculation, accounting, inventory (mathematics) and so on.
Yes, many of our greatest advancements have been made because someone chose to ignore the rules and do it their way. Humanitarian advancements have been made because someone ignored the rules and pushed for change. Think women's right to vote, or Civil Rights.
But rules have their place, and those who whine about hating rules get no sympathy from me. And in this case, I'm not talking about arbitrary or just plain stupid rules, and I'm not even talking about the above-mentioned rules. I'm talking about the most basic social rules that govern our lives and how we interact with others. In other words, decency. Like not running a red light. Like waiting your turn. Like saying please and thank you. Like showing up on time. Like respecting the rights of others. Like being honest.
I wonder what happened. I wonder why kids growing up today seem to lack a conscience. I wonder about their parents, who never taught them the basic principles of social conduct. I wonder why 8-year-old boys are raping 7-year-old girls. I wonder why 12-year-old kids gang up on a schoolmate and kill him because he's different. I wonder why a 15-year-old girl suffocates her newborn and puts it in the dumpster. I wonder why a group of 14-year-old boys kill an innocent jogger by stomping him to death.
I'm retired from freelance editing and living the good life. I love not working for a living! I live on a small farm in rural western Washington State where I reside with my dogs, cats, and horses. I have a warped sense of humor and I'm joyously silly most of the time.