Sizzle Says

You know what I love?

Coming home from work and putting on my pajamas.

It’s that simple. If I know I am going to be home for the evening, I kick off my shoes and remove my bra, first thing. Then sometimes, when it has just been one of those kinds of days, I go so far as to put my pjs on. And yes, sometimes it is as early as 5:30pm.

How’s that for living la vida loca?

This is just one perk to living alone and being single. No one cares if I am wandering the house in my giant panties and tank top with the grease stain from when I inadvertently sprayed myself rather than the skillet with the non-stick Pam spray. (Also, no one cares that I am Queen of the Dorks.) My cats don’t care. They take me as I am- chub and stains and peanut butter breath- and love me still. Could the same be said for a man?

This remains to be seen.

I admitted recently on Snackie’s confession booth post that I am an obsessive plucker. It’s true. I’ll be brave enough to admit it here on my blog. I love to pluck! Imagine my horror when my esthetician announced that I need to let my eyebrows grow in thicker. Do you understand the torture I am subjected to each time I look in the mirror? This is a painstaking process. It takes soooooo long for the eyebrow hairs to grow in while the opposite is true for the damn gray hairs on top of my head. (Fuckers!) Each time I go into the bathroom my tweezers taunt me, sitting there delicately and demurely nestled next to my make up brushes on the counter. The light glints on the silver and I swear those damn tweezers are winking at me. Tweezers, you mock my pain!

I wonder sometimes- what if I lived with my significant other. . .wouldn’t they begin to wonder what I was doing in the bathroom for so long as I agonized over my face, plucking stray hairs? Would they call to me from the couch or the kitchen or the bedroom with concern, “Sweetheart, are you okay in there?” Would they think it would not be safe to venture into the bathroom for an hour after I vacated for fear I had rendered the facilities hazardous to ones health? Or would they wonder if I was just a really slow pooer?

I just said “pooer” on my blog. This has got to be a first.

Clearly, I care too much about what people might think of me. I’m already worrying about what some future love is going to think. I suppose it is a good thing I live alone for now. We already know it is a good thing I am in therapy.

Do you have something that you agonized over when you shacked up with your honey but then later realized it was no big deal? Or something that you worry will make a future mate raise an eyebrow at you?

Come on, tell me. You can make up a fake name or comment anonymously.

“And I hold you close in the back of my mind/Feels so good but damn it makes me hurt/And I’m too scared to know how I feel about you now/How I feel about you now/La Cienega just smiles and says, ‘I’ll see you around’”-La Cienega Just Smiled, Ryan Adams