I spuddle.

1.   When L’Oreal introduced its new foundation that came with a little roller, meant to end the horror which was “streaked foundation” that was sweeping the nation like a plague of zombies, I laughed and said, “That’s brilliant!  Create a problem that doesn’t exist and then fix it!   What idiots!  They think we will fall for THAT?”  Then I went out and bought the foundation.  (In my defense, it was about a month later.)   I do not know why.   I KNOW that your face is not like a tiny little wall that a roller will efficiently and smoothly cover.   It’s OBVIOUS it is not going to work when you see the roller and contemplate your nose and how it has nostrils.   But I bought it anyway.  Let’s assess this: I thought the product was stupid, what it was meant to “fix” wasn’t actually a problem in my life, I knew my face was not flat, but I BOUGHT IT ANYWAY.

I don’t know what this says about me (“I am dumb!”) or what it says about the power of marketing (“Marketing is a powerful force that will sway even the most cynical consumer!”) or what it says about how I waste money on stupid things (“I waste money on stupid things!”)   But not surprisingly, the roller is not very effective (and ironically, DID cause my foundation to streak) and the product went on like spackle.   Which isn’t to say that spackling my face did not improve my appearance, but it did feel weird and probably I will throw it out, or more accurately, will put it in my Giant Basket of Crappy Foundation that I keep in my bathroom in case there is ever an emergency that requires lumpy, weird, unpleasant smelling, streaky, or strange tinted spackle.

OK, I will also admit that spackling my face was sort of fun in an, “OMG, what the hell is this stuff?” sort of way.   And it did give very very good coverage in that it made my face look like it had been effectively erased.

2.   When I started this blog post, I had at least three things to say and the most important thing wasn’t even the bit about the roller foundation.    Now I can’t think of what the other two were.   In the interim, I have poured a cup of coffee and made peanut butter toast, apparently an act that took SO long that my memory of all things leading up to it has been wiped as clean as an Etch-A-Sketch that’s been gently shaken, which is to say that maybe if I squint at it really hard, I’ll be able to see a trace of what I meant to say.

3.   That was a horrible metaphor simile.

4.  Speaking of squinting, I need reading glasses.   I had been coveting some reading glasses at anthropologie, which were blue and sparkly and now that I can actually justifiably purchase them, they don’t have them any more and the ones they do have are sort of fugly and stupid and this puts me in a mood where I feel like TIME PASSES SO QUICKLY, I AM OLD, and EVERYTHING IS FUTILE, or maybe I was already in that mood, or one sort of like it but lesser.   The Germans probably have a word for it.

5.  Sometimes I answer questions that people ask search engines, causing the search engines to point them here to my blog of brilliance and clever insight.   The questions are often stupid and answerless, or at least I can’t answer them, but sometimes they are not.   For example, yesterday someone typed this entire question into Google:

“Do rabbits know what we are thinking?”

I can answer this one.   The answer is yes.   Yes, rabbits know what you are thinking.   Which is freaky, if you think about it.   On the plus side, just because they KNOW doesn’t mean they care.    Actually, rabbits think our thoughts are silly and dumb, which is why they stare at you for a second, absorb your thoughts, roll their little rabbity eyes and then commence holding really still because they think if they don’t move, you can’t see them.   In other words, the fact that an animal that is as dumb as a bag of rocks also happens to be psychic is something that you shouldn’t let keep you up at night.

6.  I wrote my first letter to the editor of our local paper.   I know, right?  It wasn’t even about whales in captivity although believe me if there were whales here that were captive, I would write to the paper about it.   In this case, it was about banning the use of cosmetic pesticides, specifically Agent Orange’s little brother, 2,4-D, on schoolyards and playgrounds.   There is an immensely stupid debate going on about it in our municipality that involves people actually defending the use of a neurotoxic chemical because “dandelions are tripping hazards”.   TRIPPING HAZARDS.      I call my letter, “DANDELIONS ARE JUST YELLOW FLOWERS.”   I thought it required a title because it’s pretty long, which may surprise you, as of course you think of me as someone who is able to come straight to the point without a bunch of unecessary information about my make up or my mother.   The heavily-edited letter is here (you have to scroll down).  (I swear, it was better than that when I wrote it.  It had, you know, actual information in it.)

In the meantime, because I can’t help myself, I like to illustrate all of my letters to the editor with pictures taken with my iPhone using the app I just downloaded that I can’t seem to get enough of  (Hipstamatic).  It is making my mum crazy because she’s all, “But the pictures are blurry!”  Sorry, Mum.

Well, that about wraps it up for today.   Now both my toast and my coffee are cold.   ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?

Filed under: Answers To Questions You Didn't Actually Ask, Miscellaneous