tuckova

ideas, old gossip, oddments of all things

Here's a fun exercise: tell people that you have heard of a super [scary thing — virus, bacteria, crocodile, whatever] and ask them where it came from. I have been researching SUPER LICE and the sources are, variously, Asian immigrants, people from the Middle East, the over-prescription of antibiotics, and the fact that people don't follow directions so the lice just come back because it's their nature. I was persuaded by the third, because I think that's the cause of most health-related problems, until I read the fourth one because — well, when in doubt, bet on stupid. But it is interesting how many sites seemed to slant blame toward minorities in general and immigrants in particular. I know that other living things migrate just like people do, and often hitch rides with humans, but it's not necessarily on immigrants unless they're bringing in smallpox on a blanket. I mean, it could be wealthy people traveling, or food or other goods, not necessarily immigrants. And yet that is a narrative that people believe. If you have reasons beyond the obvious, I'd be interested in hearing them.

Maintaining a tilt that is hard alee with the forms of my vanity, I got my eyelids tattooed with permanent eyeliner. I may be a periodic weepy emotional mess but that doesn't mean I want eyeliner streaked all over my face. I am no Tammy Faye. I realize that the logical solution would be to stop wearing make up but as you may know I like the pain, and besides it was on sale, so it was basically a double score. It hurt like crazy. On a pain scale of things I have experienced it is really up there, and I just ripped a toenail out of my foot this morning by dragging a cabinet over it, and I barely cursed. So eyelid tattoos hurt, and if I had it to do over I'd be too scared to. On the plus side, I now roll out of bed looking ridiculously awake and ready to start the day, so there's that. 

For some reason the need to batten down the hatches (you liking the boat theme? It's totally not because the sun is past the yardarm or anything YARE like that) is strong this year. I have had chairs recovered, fixed broken things, cleaned out cabinets. Rearranged rooms, the whole thing. There is a man who looks not unlike Jack Skellington in my room right now painting it a color somewhere between bricks and wine, a dark bruised red, and I love it. My previous very favorite painter in town retired, and I cast about in despair for a while, but this guy was recommended and I felt instantly comfortable with him because he ran around exclaiming "What's THIS?!" — no, but I did take a liking to him, and he seems to be doing good work. 
Man, I hate winter, and it has already snowed more than once this year. I'm probably not leaving the house again until February, but you should come and visit. Guest room is shipshape and all. 
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