Sunday, December 26, 2010
Up Late The Day After Christmas After A Night Of Elizabeth Taylor's Harping
The current temperature out there, according to my computer AccuWeateher plug-in, is 23 degrees. That's Fahrenheit, not Celsius.
This explains why I had to find me an extra blanket in the middle of the night.
I had a night of tossing and turning.
I believe I was over-stimulated from watching Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf.
I think Elizabeth Taylor's Martha the Harpy was way too much like a good-looking version of a horrendously ugly Harpy, who I was harped at by in a similar manner, well over 2 years ago in that Pacific Northwest town well known for producing Harpies and Serial Killers, Tacoma.
I just realized, typing that, that I have been Harpy-free for almost 2 and a half years.
Now that you are making me think about it, more accurately stated, I have not had direct, in person, Harpy interaction in almost 2 and a half years.
However, I have had some problems with the worst of the Tacoma Harpies, via the Internet, what that particular Harpy displaying her particularly disturbing mental problems and pathological lying, in astounding displays of demented hypocrisy and histrionic narcissistic neuroticness. That was actually slightly entertaining, because I was not having to deal with it in person.
Total change of subject, back to Christmas. So, yesterday morning I opened the package from my mom and dad. In it were a couple shirts, candy canes and a cargo shorts swimming suit.
The swimming suit was a medium. I don't think I've fit in something medium sized in decades. The shirts I could get on, but not freely move.
So, when I called my mom and dad yesterday, mom asked if the shirts and shorts fit.
Well, I'm thinking, oh oh, this is some sort of test, mom is seeing if I'll tell the truth about the small-sized shirts and shorts.
I told my mom that, well, uh, I've put on some weight since you last saw me.
My mom then asked how that happened, that I was so slender at that point in time. This was the first time I remember the word 'slender' being used to describe me.
I then said, well, I'm not so slender anymore.
I told my mom that I'd already come to that conclusion.
I should take a picture of me in the mini-shorts and shirt.
We are back under a clear blue sky, this morning, in Texas, hence the need for sunglasses.
The shirt and shorts don't look as tightly fitting in the picture as they feel in person.
I have been told, more than once, that my clothes are mostly too baggy. Maybe snug-fitting is the way to go. Somehow, I doubt it.