tobermory's Diaryland Diary

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Have A Pustule Holiday!

Two weekends ago Steve and I were bored and desperately trying to avoid housework so we took a drive to a couple of antique stores. We hit our favorite place in the Ďburbs first and scored a unique mod (Italian?) light fixture from the 60ís or 70ís and I also bought An inexpensive faux-jade bead necklace. Then like two bargain happy idiots we decided to go to Architectural Artifacts. We usually only go to AA for the super sale parties when thereís some sort of nominal discount on almost everything in the store, free beer/appetizers, and music. AA has always been an expensive place. There were always the gigantic $20,000 stained glass panels, the huge ornately carved $12,000 mantels, and the unique $3500 light fixtures, but there also used to be a decent selection of bits and bobs that were reasonably affordable. In the past weíve bought a collection box from a church (perfect for spare change!), an airport runway light (always able to find your way from the garage to the house!), a large chest of drawers from a school science lab (Big! Heavy! Must-Have!), and the grade school chairs that I sit in to watch tv (not covered in cat piss!). But now, itís getting to the point were everything in there is so freaking expensive that unless youíre Lovey Gottrox or, more likely, her Interior Desecrator you canít afford anything. We picked out two things that we liked that carried no price tags. Immediate DANGER! alert because once they sniff out an interest I suspect that the price immediately goes way up. One item was maybe some sort of 40ís autoclave or sterilization thing that was shaped like a big birdhouse and had a really cool glass door with a chromed handle. That turned out to be $450. Um, no. The other thing was this bronze arm that looked like it might have been part of a larger statue at one time. It was, why donít you sit down now, $3800, because it was, you know, 18th Century French. I heard the price and mentioned that I was fairly certain that my own arm wasnít worth $3800. Sigh. I guess Iíll just have to wait until their next big sale party and see whatís marked down. The arm will NEVER be marked down enough to bring it into my range, but they might have lowered the price on some of the other stuff (thereís a wall-hung payphone that Iíve been coveting for some time now). In the meantime Iíve taken to referring to them as Architectural Assholes and it makes me feel just a little bit better.

Can I mention that back when I was a teen-ager in high school if someone had pulled me aside and told me that when I was 36 I would still be getting pimples I might just have chosen to find a nice set of train tracks to lie down on and end it all. Now I will say that I donít get them as often or with the same severity that I did back then, but it seems unfair to be a grown adult with access to all manner of high-end dermatologists and cosmetic remedies and still have zits. It doesnít help matters that I am incapable of leaving them alone. I pick, squeeze, examine them in high definition, and then subsequently use all manner of flesh-toned make-up to hide them (I have become a veritable artiste at blending). I have a lovely cluster of three charming little pimplettes around my mouth leaving me to wonder if my toothpaste is toxic. Note: when I went on Pimple Patrol last night I found yet another one lurking in my eyebrow. Nice. Iím grasping at straws here, but could I be allergic to cinnamon or cloves or pumpkin or something like that? The only thing I can think of that Iíve radically changed in the last week or so is that Iíve been eating a (generous) slice of pumpkin bread from Schleglís Bakery every morning for breakfast. Oh well, if thatís the case then the last loaf is almost gone anyway, though I may sprout a few more before pumpkin pie season is over. More likely theyíre holiday stress zits and theyíll just keen coming until after New Year.

Thatís all for now Ė I have to rest up for the eat-a-thon tomorrow.

1:30 p.m. - 2005-11-23

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