T-shirts, Toothpaste, and Guns
Sensation of toothpaste in my mouth is one of the most pleasing in my entire existence. The taste, first of all, some crisp minty variant, is always the flavor of coolness to me– and I never knew coolness had a flavor. Overpowering coolness. Coolness rushing so hard into soft surfaces of tongue and inner-mouth and sensitive solidity of teeth that it actually burns a little, sometimes more than a little, a cold fire in my mouth. Overwhelming enough to numb.
My favorite mall around here, structurally, has been almost empty this week, since the day after Labor Day. I love malls, for their calm brightness and in certain parts, where the light shines in from high angled opaque ceiling glass, their haziness. Haziness especially on serenely overcast autumn and winter mornings. Sometimes on an afternoon, I can still enjoy this visual effect. At night, bright artificial lights are turned on in these inner plazas and often overwhelm my eyes. In a rather uncomfortable and displeasing way, unlike mint to my mouth. One of the reasons I am so obsessed with sunglasses is that my eyes are incredibly sensitive to light. Both sunlight and artificial light easily render me blind and helpless. I figure, why not add a bit of glamour and novelty to my life while alleviating a potentially dangerous problem for myself?
Even on a lovely overcast day, in a gorgeous and ornate four-story structure with all of my favorite stores, I abhor a crowded mall. The narrowness of the halls, even though they seem danceably ample when nearly empty, make it difficult to get around cattle-clumps of the slow and hypnotized, and their shrieking offspring. I’m normally rather adept at finding momentarily open crevices in crowds which I can insert myself into and then scanning for further subtle partings and jetting through large crowds that way, though I hate getting that physically close to strangers. Malls seem to be the most difficult place to do this, so I rarely go on weekends or expected busy hours.
But this mall was so relaxing to walk around in today, when I went out of boredom, and on Tuesday, when I picked out gorgeous lipsticks from Lancôme and Estée Lauder. Found myself in the visual playground of the Anthropologie store and tried on a few dresses and shirts from the sale room. I thought this one cute kelly green and charcoal colorblock crepe dress might actually fit me for a change (as crepe or any nonstretchy material in a dress or shirt rarely does). It was a size medium and looked roomy at the top, so I thought it might accomodate my bust. I managed to pull it on fully, and was hopeful at first, but as my eyes focused in on the mirror after being under the dress, I realized the material was straining very noticably over my breasts and pulling them close together quite painfully, and the band across the waist was loose and unadjustably slanted. Typical. So frustrating. I can only wear soft stretchy cottony dresses, because every other type of dress in my normal size is impossible to even pull down over my breasts and if I go up a size or two, it’s too loose on the waist. Zippered dresses are the worst on me: have to go up like 6 sizes to be able to zip it up all the way, and then from the ribs down it looks like a big ugly bag on me.
I did, however, find a couple of t-shirts on sale that I loved. Both have white bases and one has an old fashioned typewriter on it with random typed letters flurried through the air like snowflakes, and the other has a giant navy blue graphic of a hot air balloon floating over the entire left side. Then found, at Banana Republic, the most flattering body-hugging tank tops on sale for $6. Got one in ballet pink and one in sea green, and a somehow ballerina looking deep v-neck and v-back long sleeve body-hugging shirt composed of mandarin orange and candy pink stripes.
When I arrived home, I found that this big dead potted plant was still in front of my bedroom window in the middle of the grass. It’s been there for two days and has been annoying me. I have no idea which neighbor left the eyesore there. William, even more annoyed with it than I was, gleefully suggested that it would be so much fun to use as target practice. Which gave me a yearning that hasn’t yet gone away to just go out into the dark quiet night and use my silenced .22 Sig Sauer to just see if I can pluck it apart. Or just open up my bedroom window and shoot it from there. William wants to finish it off with his AR, but the noise of that would draw quite a bit of attention. Damn it, I really want to shoot that ugly thing…I could haul the evidence away into the giant enclosed trash compactor, and no one would be the wiser…But I’ll be good. For tonight…
Maybe…