ahream

I just blew my nose so hard, my right ear hurts. That’s bad, isn’t it?

And I did it into a wad of toilet paper. (Yes, it was clean.) That’s what I always do. I’ve been thinking about sickness paraphernalia a lot the past week. A plague upon your sinuses will do that to a girl. And it occurs to me that this is probably not normal – both the toilet paper and the thinking about sickness paraphernalia.

Other people probably buy actual facial tissues.

I think I stopped in college. Who has money for tissues? If there was anything left after tuition, books, gas and caffeine, I bought wine and pizza. (Didn’t like beer then. Don’t like it now. It looks like cat pee. I’m sorry, but it does.) Besides, you have a whole roll of tissue in your bathroom already. Yards and yards of the stuff. What college student is too uppity to blow their nose on butt paper? Certainly, I wasn’t.

Now, I buy better wine. (Not the five-dollar bottle but the nine-dollar bottle, thankyouverymuch.) But still no tissues. It just seems superfluous. But probably I should consider having a special box around for guests. You know, like those fancy little towels no one’s allowed to use. Our guest towels actually have a monogram. And yes, my mother bought them. Maybe we could get special monogrammed guest tissues. Can you emboss something that thin or would it just have to be printed?

I feel a cottage industry coming on.

(By the way, it took me five minutes to come up with any spelling remotely close enough for spell check to finally spit out the correct form of “superfluous.” English teachers spinning in their graves right now.)

(Also, I think my husband would like it noted that he keeps actual tissues at work because, as he informed me, “I’m not a savage.”)

ahream Dispatches from the City of Angels I'm a mystery writer living in and writing about Los Angeles. You can catch my short story, "Running Venice," in the new anthology LAndmarked for Murder. Look for it in bookstores and on Amazon.com now. In the meantime, feel free to poke around. Over at my website you can find even more blog entries than I could fit here, as well as a few other ramblings. Enjoy and come back often.
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Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (3) Most Recent Twitters: A 3-foot long alligator was found walking down the middle of the street in Venice Beach this morning. I love L.A. In case you were wondering, it is very difficult to get a hummingbird out of your house. They are irrational and prone to hysterics. L.A. Finds: The Nickel Diner on Main between 5th and 6th is a made-to-look-old, throwback of a place that melds into the old downtown and is, at the same time, part of the renaissance. They serve their burgers medium, their soda in bottles and offer all they can to locals in need. Flickr Updates: The second Thursday of every month is the Downtown Art Walk. The galleries stay open late, the restaurants are packed, bands perform on the streets. God, I love L.A. What I'm Reading: Attack of the Unsinkable Rubber Ducks by Christopher Brookmyre What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami Want E-Mail Updates? Click here, type your e-mail address into the first field (for public entries) and receive an e-mail note each time a new blog post goes up. (Photo updates, Twitters and "L.A. Finds" features not included. Those you have to swing by and check yourself.) Absolutely, positively no spam. Promise. Other author blogs: Sue Ann Jaffarian Eric Stone Christa Faust Lipstick Chronicles		2005-12-05 11:16 AM Tissue savages I just blew my nose so hard, my right ear hurts. That’s bad, isn’t it? And I did it into a wad of toilet paper. (Yes, it was clean.) That’s what I always do. I’ve been thinking about sickness paraphernalia a lot the past week. A plague upon your sinuses will do that to a girl. And it occurs to me that this is probably not normal – both the toilet paper and the thinking about sickness paraphernalia. Other people probably buy actual facial tissues. I think I stopped in college. Who has money for tissues? If there was anything left after tuition, books, gas and caffeine, I bought wine and pizza. (Didn’t like beer then. Don’t like it now. It looks like cat pee. I’m sorry, but it does.) Besides, you have a whole roll of tissue in your bathroom already. Yards and yards of the stuff. What college student is too uppity to blow their nose on butt paper? Certainly, I wasn’t. Now, I buy better wine. (Not the five-dollar bottle but the nine-dollar bottle, thankyouverymuch.) But still no tissues. It just seems superfluous. But probably I should consider having a special box around for guests. You know, like those fancy little towels no one’s allowed to use. Our guest towels actually have a monogram. And yes, my mother bought them. Maybe we could get special monogrammed guest tissues. Can you emboss something that thin or would it just have to be printed? I feel a cottage industry coming on. (By the way, it took me five minutes to come up with any spelling remotely close enough for spell check to finally spit out the correct form of “superfluous.” English teachers spinning in their graves right now.) (Also, I think my husband would like it noted that he keeps actual tissues at work because, as he informed me, “I’m not a savage.”) Read/Post Comments (3) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top