Saturday, November 27, 2010


I have grown up with musical soundtracks.  By the time most kids were singing "Wheels on the Bus" I was belting out "Music of the Night" in the backseat.  I knew the entire libretto to The Phantom of The Opera.  I was 4.  I also believed that I could walk through my mirror much as the way Christine did.

My full length mirror hung on the wall opposite my door.  I would dress in my "dressing gown" (okay, so it was a robe.  I was 5) and open the door.  I would walk down the hallway and then run and try to leap through my mirror.

I'm not sure if I fully believed I could walk through it.  But I know I tried on a number of occasions.

Let's just say that I had an active imagination.

I still have a fascination with full-length mirrors.  And brown hair (I'm naturally blonde).

I was watching the movie the other night (not the Lon Chaney version, the musical) and realized that my living room is decorated to match.  Seriously.  If I just paused "Masquerade" on my TV it would look like a piece of custom art hanging on my wall.

What do you know.  It kind of does.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

An Open Letter to All the Idiots Who Accost Me about My Psoriasis

To Whom It May Concern:
                I am aware that I have psoriasis, okay?  I’ve lived with it since I was 4.  Seeing as I’m now 24, halfway to 25, I have become very adapted to living with it. I understand that you may have never accounted someone who looks like this.  Fortunately, I made it through public school with a skin disorder and have developed a pretty thick skin (pun intended).  What this means for you is that when you commit one of the following egregious errors I have taught myself not to violently snap your neck.  So, please, read the following list and keep them in mind when you encounter someone who you suspect may have psoriasis.

1.        What you think are innocent questions
Look, I get it.  You see me and notice that I, well, look a little different.  First of all, let me point out, that I take fantastic care of my skin.  At most it’s a few read blotches and maybe some pale patches.  Nothing extreme, for the most part I look like a normal girl in the western suburbs.  But back to my point, you notice and ask one of the following:
a.       Oh my god, is that a rash?
b.      Is that poison ivy?
c.       Honey, what did you get in to?
d.      Are you allergic to something?
I know, you’re just nosy and want to ask.  But, don’t.  Okay?  How would you feel if I walked up to you and went, “Oh, wow.  Has your nose always been that big?”  or “Have you thought about having that mole on your cheek checked out?  It’s HUGE.”
2.       “What’s wrong with you?”
Pardon me, but what’s wrong with you?  That question is insulting NO MATTER THE CONDITION.  If somebody is in a wheel chair, would you march up to them and ask?  What about an amputee?  It’s just rude and inconsiderate.
3.       Doing any of the above while I’m at work
Look, while I’m working I am only obligated to answer your questions about what is being sold in the store and ring you out.  Other than that, I do not have to answer any of your questions.  Got it?  So if you ask and I don’t respond, for the love of God, don’t keep asking.  There’s a reason I’m not answering. I find it rude, and so do my coworkers.
a.       Side note: If you find it necessary to grab my hand/arm/shoulder/etc and screech, “OH MY GOD, HONEY, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?” whilst I am working and the store is full of people, I may find it necessary to douse you with a glass of water.  You have been warned.
4.       Refusing to: touch anything I have, sit next to me, shake hands, be in the same swimming pool as me AND make a huge honking deal out of it.
Seriously.  It’s not contagious.  Or AIDs.  You’re not going to die from it.  It took me a number of years to stop feeling like a freak, thank you for bringing back those fond memories.  If you don’t want to, fine.  Just don’t make a big deal out of it, okay?
5.       Misc
a.       Don’t say (as one cretin in high school did) “What the hell is that?  AIDs?”  Just a quick shout out to my health teacher who laughed at the kid and did nothing to help me out.  Thanks.  You’re my hero.
b.      When it’s first summer and I’m wearing short sleeves/shorts/dresses and my skin is a little drier and psoriasis is a tad noticeable.  The sun helps, and I haven’t had a lot of it because it’s been winter.  IN CHICAGO.  Don’t have this following exchange (yes, this really happened about 7 or 8 years ago.  To me.):
                GIRL: So, you’ll be back at 2 or 3 in the morning?
                WOMAN: Yeah.  (looks at girls’ legs)  What is that?
                GIRL: Hmm? (looks down) Oh.  Psoriasis.  I’ve had it since I was 4.
                WOMAN: Wow.  That looks awful.  So you can’t really wear skirts or anything, huh?
                GIRL: (tries to point out she’s wearing shorts) Well, uh, I am wearing shorts…I mean…in
                the summer it’s better
                WOMAN: (still being an ignorant bitch) Yeah, but you’re a girl.  That’s got to suck.

So, thanks to everyone who has attempted to derail my self esteem and confidence.  You totally rock. 


Sinuses and Open Blinds

I never get sick.  Ever.  I think I can count on one hand the times that I can remember being sick.  So, I was thrilled last week to come down with a cold.  Which happened right after I dropped my car off - but that's another story for another day.

I thought I had finally kicked it out of my system for good.  Well my sinuses strongly disagree.  Don't worry, I won't go into details.  But I believe I'm developing a sinus infection.

However, I did discover today that there is one thing that instantly make a room feel better.  And, I believe, make you feel better.

Well, apart from knocking yourself out on cold medication...

What is it?  Open the blinds!  Regardless if it's cloudy or sunny letting the outside world in reminds you that there's more out there than there is in your "sick den" (what I call the place you set up camp when you're sick)

So - wish me luck!  I'm off to buy Sudafed and say a silent prayer that I can get this out of my system without having to visit a doctor...

And a bonus item:  a cute fuzzy pet will ALWAYS make you feel better!

Sunday, November 14, 2010


I think that word fits me in a nutshell.

I constantly surprise people by the stuff that I like and don't like.

I'm terrified of heights, yet I have no problem shinnying several feet in the air up a palette rack.  I don't have an athletic bone in my body but I LOVE watching sports.  I am exceptionally low maintenance, but I have enough make up to supply a small army.

Granted, a cross dressing army...but I digress.

So...we arrive at the name of this blog and how I choose to define myself.  I'm not much of a drinker, but when I do drink I LOVE whiskey.  And wine.  My mom once said that I was like somebody wearing a ball gown with cowboy boots.  But I think this has a better ring to it!