It is winter and my skin is so dry and tight and crumbly all I can think about is lying in a bathtub full of olive oil. It would be so deliriously lovely. Yesterday as I was driving I realized I had chapstick in my bag and laid it on luxuriously. What a relief! Moisture! Fortunately I glanced at myself in the rear view mirror before going in to symphony - turns out it wasn't chapstick, it was lipstick. I looked like somebody's great aunt. Sweet!
It's amazing I noticed. Do you look in mirrors? I don't think I do. And when I do, I don't actually see myself. I mean, I make sure the toothbrush is somewhere inside my mouth and I do make some effort at tidying myself up in the morning, but the mirror is there pretty much just as a guide. I see my face, but don't look at details. After all, I know what I look like. My mind sort of recreates the rest for me.
A friend of mine just told me she does this, too, and was recently shocked to notice that she looked different than she remembered. I do that. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself and shriek. In my head I am this blythe and ethereal pixie being. In real life? Not so much. Too tall, too dark, too, how shall we say? SOLID.
Two people today reminded me that I look like Rachel Griffiths, from Brothers and Sisters. Two! I have a secret fantasy that some day someone will tell her she looks like me. I'm sure someone out there, ahem, knows someone who worked with Rachel Griffiths on Six Feet Under. Surely she knows someone who could casually mention it? "Hey, Rachel, has anyone ever told you you look just like Susan from Trout Towers? I bet you get that all the time."
In other completely unrelated news, I wish I could put ringers on a few more of my personal posessions so I could call them when they go missing. I was just looking for my calender and in my slightly addled post-nap state I picked up my phone to call it. I would also like a ringer on my car keys and Studley's shoes, please.