Thursday, June 21, 2012

Oh Say, Can YOU See?

I can't see shit.  


My vision, while never 20/20, was always pretty good. I only needed cute glasses for watching movies or television - far sighted not near. (Is that right? whatever). I could read the fine print on a menu at three hundred paces away. And just like a Lifetime teevee movie of the week...*blink*. I am holding the menu directly in front of my face, over a candle, underneath a thirty bulb one hundred watt chandelier and can't see shit.  Squinting to make out the regular print forget the fine. 'Yes, I'll have the item highlighted in red, medium well. Oh, that's the restaurants name?".


I can't hear shit. 


In the 'before' days, you could whisper my name from miles away in a crowded school yard on a crowded subway in a crowded nightclub while standing on a loudspeaker the size of a small car and I would respond ('whaaaat'). Now you could be standing on top of me, shouting my name while using sign language and I would blankly stare at you,'whhhaaaaadidyousay'. To accommodate this unfortunate circumstance, I have developed the sexy (ha) side tilt. I laughingly lean in, tilt my head ever so slightly to the left/right and whisper back 'hmmmm?' at least twice before I can understand the words that are coming out of your mouth. And if I still don't understand, I simply laugh and change the topic. 


I can't speak for shit. 


In my minds eye I can see the words I want to say I can formulate them in my brain while exchanging witty adult banter. But what happens in my head and what comes out of my mouth are vastly, laughingly different: '"Oh yes, his performance had me totally stuck in my place" (mesmerized). "The color palette is so congruous with the wood stain." (consistent). Funny. While conversing with children under the age of five I don't seem to have this problem. 


Yep, this is the definite area where it all goes to hell in a round woven object (handbasket). And there is absolutely nothing you can do. Nope. Frustrating. Yep. But it is simply the body beautiful aging the hell out of you. Unless you can 'jump' bodies (did anyone determine that yet?), you are stuck in your own. 


And for once, I am not fighting it. I actually find it works in my favor: 
A ten percent tip for an asshole waiter instead of the fifteen. "Oh, so sorry...didn't see that notation on the bottom of my check". The contractor who informs me that he will show up at the end of the week to collect his final payment even though he took two additional weeks to complete my already late project."Ohhh...did you mean THIS Friday? So sorrreee! I heard you incorrectly." Reviewing an artist friend newest contemporary piece using their hair and plastic string. "Oooohhh...I totally get why this is a sham that it sells at this price....oops, I meant 'shame'....".


And sometimes it happens all at once. While peering at my neighbors hideously ugly baby that everyone was cooing over, I lost all of my senses and simply smiled lovingly when asked 'isn't she precious'. I apologized to my neighbors later saying that I simply lost my senses while staring at the wonderous new life. 


See? Jumping out of your body does work. 


xo,
Fabulously Fourty(ish)











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