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2:54 p.m. - 2010-05-20
Mixing it up and coming to no conclusions.

On my way into town I went through the railroad tunnel and came around the curve only to find traffic stopped dead. Crap! Another accident! On the far end of the curve there's an ugly Y-shaped intersection, a bit of a blind spot and no shortage of foolish impatient drivers who decide they'd done enough waiting at the stop sign or blow through the stop altogether and pull out willy-nilly. Then not a ¼ mile later there's another road that dumps onto the main one, and while there's far better line of sight, those madly impatient people jump out into the 55mph traffic too. Often. Too often. Can't tell you how many times I've had to stand on the brakes because some dimwit was too poor a judge or just too fricken important to wait their turn and cede to oncoming traffic as is required by LAW.

When I saw the halted cars in front of me my first thought was, "Dammit! Another selfish noogie just HAD to blow through the stop. Now I'm gonna be late. Asshole."

Didn't have to wait too long, a fireman waved us forward and the line rolled. As I passed the scene I was horrified, on the short leg of the Y there was a smacked up Subaru and what was left of a motorcycle. It looked like it had exploded. Then I realized the driver of the bike had exploded too. The emergency crews were doing their best to hide the grisly mess, but there were parts of that guy everywhere.

I thought about my impatience and my harsh judgment and was ashamed. However it had gone down it was awful that guy paid for his or someone else's impatience with his life. I thought about the dead man's family and the driver of the Subaru and what he must be feeling. And even though it's their jobs, I thought about the fire crew and the cops and the EMTs having to deal with all of that and then having to go home to their families later today. I mean when you have to scrape up an exploded guy how do you just get on with things? How do you just eat your dinner and take the kids to practice and watch George Lopez before bed? How?

I was ashamed that my first thoughts had been of my own inconvenience and of my smug surety that selfishness had caused what I assumed was another goddamn fender bender. A scene I'd witnessed dozens of times on that bit of road. Not death. Not an exploded guy lying in chunks on the tarmac. Nobody deserves that, not for blowing a stop sign. And what if it had been the Subaru driver's fault? Or neither, but an echo accident caused by someone who'd driven away unaware (or uncaring) they'd caused that mess?

Mick tells me all the time my heart's too tender. I know when I tell him about this later he might agree that death was too high a price, but then again it was obvious someone had screwed up and when people screw up bad stuff happens. Boo hoo. Big deal. In any case I hadn't done anything wrong, why torque myself about it? So, Mrs Tender-heart, what's for dinner?


I'm guessing they were still cleaning things up 2 hours later because they were diverting traffic onto that other side road I'd mentioned. Forced to take the long, long way home I decided to go to Rite Aid and get some more girly supplies, Ms Red Tent is going a gusher.

As an antidote to sadness I decided before I got to the store I'd buy myself a treat too. Not snack food, not chocolate. Something to make me feel pretty. A feeling that's been damn hard to come by recently. Though I was feeling a bit swash with my long glass earrings and headscarf combo today. At Rite Aid I saw a display of very snazzy sandals, and for a wonder the biggest ones actually fit my gigantic drag queen feet! I bought 2 pair of those very femme thick soled flip-flops - one a wide black ribbon instep strap with black sequins and the other pair a skinnier black velvet cord with rhinestones. Yeah, I've gotten old enough that I can wear 'jeweled' sandals without meaning to be ironic about them. When I was a kid the first outrider of old ladyhood was a pair of metallic jeweled T-strap sandals. Right up there with a cardigan worn over your skirted bathing suit and big plastic tote bags with a lurid day-glo print of impossible daisies those sparkly sandals were strictly for crones.

So, I'm a crone. I'm a crone with sparkly flip-flops. You gotta problem with that?

Funny, as usual the gang at group had many nice things to say about my outfit. Tee, who's my size and only a couple years younger, was especially complimentary and sighed that she wished she wasn't so poor, she'd love to spend the big bucks to look glam like me. I cracked up. I ran the list and approximate cost of my 'glam' ensemble for her and her jaw just about hit the floor.

Headscarf- $1.00 Goodwill store
Glass earrings- $8.00 craft fair about 15 years ago.
T-shirt- $4.00 Old Navy
Jeans- $18.00 Old Navy
Belt- $9.00 JC Penney clearance bin
Silver sandals- $7.00 Payless 3 years ago
Black bracelet- Free- it's the ring that formerly held my plastic measuring cups together
Purse- $11.00 Army-Navy surplus 4 years ago (it's a Navy issue ammo bag)
Hairdo- cut and colored in my bathroom and about 7 cents worth of hair viagra gel.

Grand total? Head to foot $58.07. Amortized over the years owned and throw in the fact you have to wear something anyhow, even if it's just the jeans and t-shirt and something on your feet, my million dollar look was in reality about $10.00.

If you're so broke that $10.00 is too much then you have way bigger problems than what the hell your accessories look like. I imagine not starving to death would be a higher priority. But otherwise? All you need is some chump change, a smattering of imagination and a bit of chutzpah.

Sad about the exploded guy and those involved, yet ridiculously happy with my sparkly feet, ~LA

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