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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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Snooping Demons
A Snoop From Way Back You know how when you go to someone's house and you have to go to the bathroom at their house? Do you ever want to, while you're in there, just take a quick peek in their medicine cabinet? Right. Me neither. But just in case you ever come to my house, I'll save you the trouble.
Pretty boring, isn't it? There's my big hairbrush on the top shelf, my toothpaste and nailbrush on the next shelf down. (Usually my toothbrush is perched on the sink ledge--if only so that I can knock it off the sink ledge ten times a day and wonder what kind of bacteria I'm exposing myself to everytime I brush my teeth. Even brushing your teeth should be an adventure is what I have to say about that.) There's my extra contact lens case, some antibacterial ointment (no, not for the toothbrush), floss, hair ties, Visine. And on the bottom shelf: baking soda, some Neutrogena face stuff that I spent too much money for and never use, some Burt's Bees almond milk handcream, six bottles of perfume (including the hugely expensive and rarely used Chanel No. 5). And here's a quick peek at the makeup drawer.
Though I'll spare you a list of the contents, those of you in the know probably recognize a lot of Almay stuff in there, as well as the requisite pink-and-black tube of Maybelline waterproof mascara.(Man, that stuff's more ubiquitous than ubiquitin even, isn't it?) Here's the cabinet above the makeup drawer:
It kind of looks like I carefully turned all the product labels away from the camera so as to avoid some kind of lawsuit, but that so isn't the case. The top shelf is mostly contact lens care stuff, nail care stuff, and a huge Costco-sized box of pantiliners in the back. The bottom shelf is mostly hair care stuff. (What a child of the '80's and '90's I am. Look at all that shit I have to use to take care of the hair. There are some serious styling products there, folks. Hair wax, something called glossing cream and glossing spray (two different kinds of each glossing product). Spray leave-in conditioner. Gel and mousse. Hairspray. Two backup shampoos and their accompanying conditioners. I am ready for any hair emergency. I'm like The Hair Czar here.) But I digress. To continue our little snoopy tour of my private spaces, here are the contents of my refrigerator:
That's a sucky picture, isn't it? You can hardly see anything but my two Costco bags of mixed salad greens and the big tub of plain, fat-free Cascadian Farms yogurt. There's a big jar of Vlassic pickles at the back, balanced on a tub of miso. (There is some beer in there, too, three Guinnesses and a single Red Stripe left over from this night--since I don't drink at home unless I have company.) That was a bust, but here's the door anyway:
There are all my happy little condiments, my fat-free Miracle Whip, my balsamic and two kinds of red wine vinegar, the required bottle of Heinz ketchup (also Costco sized, which means I'll be willing it to someone when I die), two kinds of mustard (usually it's more), horseradish (which is heavenly on brussels sprouts), soy sauce and some liquid aminos. There's also some Costco liquid egg product called "Egg Starts" or something like that. It's really more of an okay start to the day, but shaking a carton beats cracking and separating eggs for/during my morning scramble. And here's the reason to shop at CostCo in the first place:
Boca Burgers. $8 for 16 burgers in that mother of a box--not the rip you get in the health food stores, where you pay $4 for a package of four burgers. Boca burgers are the food of the gods. Look at my face, I'm serious. Gardenburgers suck. Eat Boca. This has been a public service announcement. And just to round it out, here's the freezer door:
Yes, there five cartons of Kirkland brand "Egg Starts" egg-like substance there. (I am a Costco junkie. Thank you very much.) There are also some frozen organic peaches from Wild Oats in the door too, dammit. Sublingua does not live on omelettes alone.
More lies:
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