Friends 101.


Being friends 101.
A friend does not stop being a friend over differing opinions, ideas, or in the case of 2016, who you vote for. I did not choose to vote for Hillary until much more recently. I won’t stop being your friend for choosing Trump.
When we met I never asked you, pre-friendship, who your votes went to. And in the future I won’t ask newly met people “So…Clinton or Trump?” And the walk away or make a friendship based on which it was.

In the current world we also put ourselves out there to be ridiculed. If you do that, then grow the skin you need to have to deal with it.
I will give a good debate, angry even. I will yell and shout and hopefully have a good drink or coffee with you over it.
And you may do the same.
I won’t just stop being a friend because of it.
Debate. It’s a part of life. It’s a part of friendship. It’s even a part of Thanksgiving turkey with the family. I might say some really mean things. I will probably mean them. And you the same. We might seriously fear for our very own lives over the others vote. And we might find each other completely ignorant over the others opinions.

—–But aside from the point that one vote possibly having the ability to make or break our country being the bigger issue and a farther cast net than just our President being the much larger topic of what country we feel that we live in right now—-

We each have our own reason, heart, feeling, knowledge, and different view of the same information. (Such has been the Bible, Science, music, books, best movies, and more, forever. As example. Remember that some of your friends think Keanu Reeves is a good actor. Don’t hate them for it. Don’t stop being their friend for it.

Heck in music/art/movies/actors/books alone if you read about the creator often you hate/despise or disagree with them. If we went so far as all to cut all these things out we likely would lead very boring lives. I struggle with it myself. But I still love Susan Surandan in a movie even if I see her personally as a childish brat. And my own inner self does struggle with Woody Allen movies. Many didn’t jive with who/what Freddie Mercury was personally but still followed/loved/worshipped his music. Hell, even the Republican party loves it! Sometimes people aren’t going to like ME but like my writing (hopefully) and frankly, I don’t always care. I can’t please them all. And the world can’t all please me.

Either way we vote, our world will change. Is changing. Has changed. No vote in all of history has ever been a truly safe vote. The awesome part is, we live in a country where we GET to vote, our leaders are not chosen for us. Either way we go with that, it’s an awesome thing. It’s a freedom. I would not take that from you. I would hope you would not take it from me. But over a drink, coffee and all of friendship we might threaten that a lot, in jest, in seriousness, and in friendship. If you truly can not take it, then you don’t have the right or deserving power of calling yourself “Friend”, and that is a much more sad thing for you in such reasons, not for me, to not be able to remain friends.

*If you wish to tell people that if they are voting for the other party to delete themselves from your friendslist, if you delete those who say different than you, or stop being friends even in actual “real not-fb life”, then you don’t understand friendship, freedom, or America.

*If you can’t handle hearing both sides and then still either holding onto your own beliefs or maybe thinking “huh, didn’t see it that way”, which doesn’t mean you have to change your mind. You might not understand life, living, learning, growth in wisdom.
If you are one to only want to hear, read, learn about, dig into deeper, hang out with/around, surround yourself only in that which jives with your own ideas, beliefs, opinions…then you might be a westboro baptist. Or just really boring even. But most certainly you are one to bury your head in the sand. Not an explorer of life. You are closed minded. But it doesn’t mean we have to stop being friends (I just might think of you as a little ignorant by choice, is all.)

*When you are the white male (the only of my friends who I’ve upon this several times) who has chosen to crush my victory of being a woman closer to freedom with “read the facts” but you don’t have the facts correct. Then, well, as it has happened, you are the privileged white male. And that in itself in todays society IS a problem. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop being your friend. Though you might stop being mine. We women have worked for a long time to have to make our way to the top/be equal./have rights. I will have to do the same. We can still be friends as I have to crush you to do so. When you could have, because it is you who has that choice, long ago stood aside as a gentlemen and allowed me and my rights to walk past. This is not even your ignorance that has you shoot me down in my celebration of victories, but your fear. I won’t stop being friends with you out of fear. If that were the case then no woman and man would ever be friends. Much less married, love, relation of any kind.

But really people. The next three months…we will throw rocks at each others glass houses. We will yell. We will get really truly MAD. We might even for a moment hate. And certainly a few of us adults will stomp and throw a four year olds tantrum.
But when it comes down to it, we were friends before the elections of 2016 for whatever reasons. And maybe some friendships as all happens in adult life needs to be reevaluated. But in the world of social media, the world of adulthood, and the world of true friendship, we can still be friends who hold different ideas. And cast different votes. Even world leaders sometimes have to shake hands and smile with other world leaders whom they do not always in all of history get along with, but must be diplomatic with for the better good.

And if you can’t handle the friendship, then you probably weren’t being a friend to begin with. #BeingAGrowUp #Frendship #Politics2016

There is no one way.


To those mad about sites they read or friends pages getting political:

When a presidential election runs every four years, and when the second biggest in all of history is happening RIGHT NOW (AND the craziest EVER seen), and only  8 yrs after the first, I believe it is a right to get a little political. This is world events. This is news. This is history.

If you don’t like it, turn off your computer and go watch some Duck Dynasty. I am pretty sure these sites you read and friends you usually enjoy pics of puppy dogs on are good to take a break from whatever else they do 365 days a year for the other three years to talk about something that is not just small potatoes…but BIG news.

THIS is what will be in your childs history books. And we still made plenty of room for Pokemon. It isn’t about who you vote for or what party side you are on or who you love to hate or will vote for just to save the world from the other. This is history. We are living it. And it’s better even than some of what we’ve read about. So put down seeing it through the camera and really live in it. Good, right, bad, or wrong. You might not be happy about it in the outcome. But it is your life. History in the making. Awesome in a way that will change the world regardless of who ends up President out of the pick. Good or bad changes. Change is a coming! But change is happening RIGHT NOW.

You might not be pro-Hillary but in the not long ago past women were arrested for attempting to vote. It was against the law.  And now we might see a woman for President! Not in the long ago past the same went for African-Americans. They held no vote and it was against their ‘right’ even though we supposedly live by a constitution. And look at our current President!

We might get Trump and WWIII but dammit WWII made fucking history above all history! People are still talking about it! Making movies! There are museums for it! So regardless of it all WE are seeing that and living that and seeing the greatest changes of the world …crazy good or insanely bad as they may be.

So for 12 months in 2016 if people want to post about this and get a little political….let ’em be. Join on in. As much as this all seems a big joke, who we are laughing at might be our next President whether we like it or not! This is NOT reality TV people! This is REALITY of LIFE! It is what it is. Such is life.  Those who hate it showing up in their FB feeds are only those who are close minded and bury their head in the sand.

Take a day off…that’s fine, but you have the power to turn your computer off and get off of FB and take a break…no need to bash people or other websites for talking about something other than the Kardashians. They get the other three years, but who our congress is, who our judges are, who our VP’s are, what laws have changed, who our candidates are and who our President of the most powerful country in the world is, gets the spot light for this year. The good. The bad. The ugly of it all. And the history. This is an amazing, scary, and awesome time to be alive.

This is what dating me is like.


woke up this morning, thinking that it was Saturday rather than Friday which meant coffee in bed and my book, J was still sleeping. When I am awake I am awake. The book I was reading got me into a total writing mode so I set up to write, moving to the couch in the living room with my coffee. A few pages and a few cups of coffee in I had to pee. Then I decided my bathroom needed cleaning, which meant a full hands and knees scrub. That led to laundry being started in the wash and the kitchen given a full wipe down which led to dusting which led to a deep sweeping and washing of the entire floor. J wakes up but by now I am settling back down with my cup of coffee and starting back to my writing where I had left off, writing with the same frenzy I’d just cleaned in. He gives me a sleepy look through squinty eyes and I say “Oh hi! Your awake!” He says “I was sleeping but someone kept making a bunch of noise and so yes, I am, unfortunately, awake.” (Mind you this is like eleven in the morning) But out of my mouth comes the response “I didn’t start until nearly ten and I was awake and got in a cleaning mood.” He says ” So I noticed” I say “Besides, I was up and that s all that matters, it’s late enough for you to wake up, too.” And I slap my hand over my mouth in realization of that moment that every woman has when her mother just came right out of it like a demon possessed voice in a horror movie. He laughs, thankfully, and comes and kisses me goodmorning. And this is a sign that obviously we are early enough in our relationship for him to find me still endearing. Poor guy. 



Boyscouts don’t have anything on us when being prepared.

Like our purses, you need something, we’ve got something. We women are always prepared. In travel we bring twenty pairs of shoes because we might need twenty paairs of shoes. Our freezers are no different.
J has decided that my freezer is my version of a Mary Poppins Carpet Bag.
He is off for a couple of weeks sort of unexpected (we thought he would go straight to work after the school but has to wait to get back onto his own regular shift, all thrown off)
We haven’t even been to a grocery yet since he’s been back this weekend and I keep pulling new meals from the fridge each breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Breakfasts have been or are planned as (I just got teased for the planning) anything from entire bagel setups to eggs/potato/bacon/bean breakfasts and more.Not to mention the huge bowl of fruit for the day long picking.
Lunches have been from tuna salad filled avocados to egg salad on top of greens salads, home made soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, BBQ pork sliders, and more.
Dinners have been bahn mi sandwiches, hawaiian fried rice, katsudon, Brown sugar glazed pork loin/mashed golden pots/garlic roasted broccoli, home made macaroni and cheese and ribeye steaks, home made jambalaya, spaghetti with a good crusty bread and salad of course. Tuna and rice dishes with veggies like brussel sprouts, Stuffed bell peppers. The list goes on.
He keeps asking if we need to do a store run. So far no…but after today for some milk/fresh veggies/ we will. Otherwise that freezer still has a lot of odds and ends, soups, and pieces of meals if not entire meals in it. So I am getting teased. Funny part is when by myself I don’t eat half of that and am more of the quinoa and veggies type alone….of which I also have plenty of.
I have an always be prepared mentality when it comes to food. Broth? I have it. Cuttings for new broth to be made? Check. Anything to throw into an omolette? Gotcha. Rice bowls of all sorts? Can do. Soups? Always. Beans? Are you joking? Of course. What kind would you like? Fresh veggies prepared and cut up and then frozen in whatever way you need them? Have that, too. Meats even when barely eat them on my own? I could feed a southern family renunion BBQ right now.
We haven’t even hit on the dry cabinet stuff. Got that, too. Rices/dry beans/lentils/quinoa and a bunch of other stuff? And not a single canned item except peas and various canned fish, all of which I also have in the freezer.
Here are just a few items I’ve managed to ever put together.

Girl time-interrupted.


I got an unexpected J in-town weekend! He had a class and was originally due to go straight to work after but now had the weekend in between and rather than stay in some little country town…or nearby New Orleans, he headed all the long drive home to be with me for a weekend. I must admit, I was in my work mode, and in my girl mode, and in my totally got hooked on Jane The Virgin on Netflix mode, but the weekend of him back after a week gone was a great surprise and super nice after all.

Making a travel-work relationship work (not the same as long-distance but close) there are moments to relish when you can. They don’t come often. So rather than work through the weekend, I of course, did not work at all. No complaints.

Monday though and back at it even though he is still here a day or two…learning to work with him there is an entire different story…especially when every other minute he might shout out “Ok this is the next car I am going to buy, come check it out!” From his laptop…of which I refuse to walk over as he can bring to me…or of when I am head bent over my own work he gets ‘The Look.’

It’s like training a puppy. Of course with the five and a half years younger than me that he is, that analogy is not far off. I have, btw, heard the ‘this is the next car’ line about twenty different car choices already so I am over whatever the heck he chooses until it drives up with him in it. Oy. Men.


Postoffice West


This heat and working on another piece reminded me of a summer walk on exactly this road in Galveston. Anybody who knows what I’m talking about, knows what I am talking about. Usually people don’t walk this stretch, it runs through supposed gang and self stated ‘ghetto’ territory to get from down town to the abandoned train cars. It’s a rout us locals with camera and seeking poetic or song writing inspiration take….we explore the abandoned brewery along the way, we sit on the empty 1940’s train cars. But I’ve ridden my bike a few times before and one day I walked it (and was picked up by a Police Officer on the way back to give me a ride to safer places with plenty of warnings about the area, thinking that I was a tourist, camera in hand.) I wish I was there right now with my camera. In my mind are particular angles I have that I have yet to capture…but that is also Galveston…walk by the same place a million times and suddenly see it differently. This, however, is exactly what that walk on the July day in 2015 was like and now July 2016 that I remember. #Nostalgia #Writing #TexasSummer #TexasHeat #Galveston #Heat #Summer #SummerHeat #Itsfuckinghot #allmywritingtodayhasbeenabouttheheat

Postoffice West

It’s summer time.
It’s Summer time in Texas.
It’s Summer time on an island in Texas, and we are nowhere near a location we feel is the beach.
Slap on the side of your neck the mosquitos sharp sting.

Close your eyes.
Feel the heat rising off the pavement you are walking on. Hear the quiet sound…only the slap slap of your feet step on the ground.
Smell the smells carry from the field to your right. The little yellow flowers that grow with the round black button inside.
Smell the BBQ coming from your left, those houses over there. They need paint, you can tell they were once white. The porches sag. There are people and little kids everywhere, playing in the dusty yards, men standing over charcoal grills, woman sitting staying shaded on big porch swings. In a blink you see this heat is playing tricks on you. The houses and yard stand empty. But you still smell the bbq. Along with the field, the sweat, a smell of tired heat.

Close your eyes again and smell. Listen.
Hear the glass that crunches under your feet, the toe of your shoe sends a bottle skittering. Crickets or some bug or another like them from the fields of flowers, dozens…no hundreds.
Wave the bugs you can feel but can’t see from your face.
The sweat dripping from your scalp.

Open your eyes, see the heat shimmering. Over the empty back long ago once paved street, from the cracks weeds creep.
Shimmering heat waves rising from the train tracks you’ve come to. Old, and unused since probably before your even daddy’s time.
Notice the birds don’t come here, the crickets song has stopped.

It’s summer time.
It’s Summer time in Texas.
It’s Summer time on an island in Texas and we are nowhere near a location we feel is the beach.
Slap on the side of your neck the mosquitos sharp sting.

She Shed’s. Skills. She’s got skills, and she knows how to use them.


An interesting article from 1 Million Women about she sheds and empowerng women. Read and check it out and then following is my own opinion on the subject of skills.

I like the idea.
However, I do happen to know more women who use power tools and weld daily than men, as well as know how to.
I even know more women than men who even own a power tool.
I think men are pretty soft…more than a few I know wouldn’t even know how to operate a weed eater. But at the same time they don’t know how to balance a checkbook, either. Or build a budget. Or cook a proper meal that doesn’t come from a box. So in the shift of less sweat I haven’t totally seen a filling of other, maybe more domestic even, skills.

But I don’t mean to be sexist. I actually see much the same in woman, too. Power tools or not.

It is not about sexism, but about today’s pampered society.
Overall today, people in general, men, women, and even children, lack simple and basic skills. Make a list…what are your skills?
Make another list, what are kills you would like to have?
Make another, what are skills that are basic that you don’t hold?
Now, go and learn something new. Once you have learned it…pass the knowledge by teaching someone else.

In saying all that what I think would be cool is more courses to learn these things…like the painted clay shops opening around the country, lets see some woodwork and craftsman shops. Sure, a few fingers might be lost and the insurance might cost more, but a skill learned is a good story told.

I remember my first house flip where I sanded (about 14 layers, hinges even painted), painted, re-carpeted, tiled and cut tile, and more, I felt invincible.

If America needs to be ‘great again’ I take that to mean knowing how to do thing. Make things, Create things. Do ourselves. Step up like the women in WWII who did everything from save metals, make victory gardens and build airplanes. Learn to feed large families on few cents like during the great depression. Build a furniture piece that remains a family heirloom? Even sewing, knitting as well as woodwork and more. Heck in this day and age if we lost the internet we wouldn’t even know how to make bread. Even knowing how to make music and entertain around a campfire is an essential skill of friendship, fellowship, and community. Skills don’t mean sweat and power tools alone. Skills are vast and everybody coming together with their skill to help another and combined or bartered with anothers skill is what makes a better society, a community.

As children we go back to school and we say something like “This summer I did…”

As adults let’s end our summer by saying “This summer I learned…”

Vacation over.

A Kind Of Single Lady


Back to work since Monday, this will also be a longer stretch of about two months rather than one. But that vacation needed to end. DMV and news and…it was a wearing out two weeks for sure. For some, these past two weeks are not over. Their families and lives forever changed. My own part in it is not over. My writing is my tool and more will come on that soon, as well as other actions to be put together or in process.

But as far as break time for J and I go and talking on the subject of vacation, all in all really it was still a good one. We relaxed when we could and enjoyed when we could and DMV has been conquered at least. Going back to work for the both of us didn’t end the annoyances of life, though no longer the DMV, travel…

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Vacation over.


Back to work since Monday, this will also be a longer stretch of about two months rather than one. But that vacation needed to end. DMV and news and…it was a wearing out two weeks for sure. For some, these past two weeks are not over. Their families and lives forever changed. My own part in it is not over. My writing is my tool and more will come on that soon, as well as other actions to be put together or in process.

But as far as break time for J and I go and talking on the subject of vacation, all in all really it was still a good one. We relaxed when we could and enjoyed when we could and DMV has been conquered at least. Going back to work for the both of us didn’t end the annoyances of life, though no longer the DMV, travel quick trips for business, still it tied to travel and vehicle no less. I am beginning to fear the superstition of broken mirrors as I broke one just recently.

On his way back to work, only one hundred miles left to go (he drove over 400 miles), J’s car broke down. Sitting in traffic due to an accident ahead his CV joint busted loose and he lost full control of the car, only going five miles he managed to roll it off the road with no harm. Thankfully he did not have this happen when going full regular speed limit. After an almost $500 tow he was fine and made his destination (car to be dealt with later, and talks of a new one anyway as that car is like that old duct taped recliner men come with when they enter a relationship….if that car ‘accidentally’ blew up….yes, no harm to anyone, him not in it…I would be perfectly fine with that.

The man has more than one car and ability to buy something nice and new…and with A/C and still holds onto that thing like a nasty STD. It is not even one of his fun cars, cool cars, fast cars. Dear lord. What we go through with these men.
Thankfully finally this summer hit him that the no A/C was a no-go anymore (after ten years of it in that piece of…’recliner’, he has decided it is time to move on. And not just to a fun racing project car either…I think he might be becoming a big boy. I am so proud.

Ok, I may be over exaggerating a little here on his lack of actual drivable not hunk of heap cars in the time we have dated, but dear lord….why does every man have a wardrobe that needs to be fully tossed and redone, a duct taped recliner or some piece of furniture we dread or a car that is a death trap and yet their love and joy? In J’s case the ‘furniture’ piece is a cow skin rug, it had included a bedroom set that he thought was amazing and I thought was tacky but that got taken care of…when a woman refuses to sleep on a tacky bed it gets a guy’s attention. And a back leather couch. I don’t care how much that thing cost and how great of brand new shape or how expensive it is. Black leather and mixed with sectional screams not my house, and we don’t have a man cave for it to hide in. Expensive doesn’t mean not tacky. We who date these men truly later wonder how we ever dated them to begin with…or how in the world they ever got laid, by us or by anybody else.

We went to watch a couple of movies, Independence day was terrible. The same great old actors for the most part who did their job, did it well and did what made their characters. The younger new crowd just….terrible. Did they not even take acting classes? Do they not teach emotion any more in them? Does Hollywood want young plastic people now? Oh wait……

Missed Will Smith, though. And I have decided that fighting aliens would be like fighting the big cockroaches that live in the palm tree’s and fly at you.

Last night I had a huge cockroach run at me and I hurriedly backed up with nowhere to go and fell over into the bathtub, dragging down the shower curtain and all. Then I was in a panic, fallen over, knees up over the side and freaking out about where that bastard went. Very totally movie-like and my scream was American Psycho worthy, I laugh now at how absolutely ridiculous I become at a cockroach. I don’t think I am spending another summer in this heat and the land of palm trees. I’m over it. Those who live in snow in winter dream of this stuff….go ahead…lets trade.
The other movie we caught in theater was Tarzan.
I really did think that even where there were parts of technical ‘bad acting’ that it was on purpose, done right for the time of move, the era, the fact of boy raised by monkey and all worked out for them and it was actually a pretty decent movie. Not great, not good, but entertaining and a great way to spend an overly hot summer southern afternoon.
I am all about Margot Robbie. I must admit she does have a grace about her but also a down to earth feel through the screen. She comes with Kate Moss Super Model beauty of the 90’s and yet is in acting. The fashion model in me still admires the older models that today’s boring ones don’t bring to the table. Funny enough she reminds me because of this of even older movies of an Elizabeth Taylor time…a little bit of old Hollywood glory feel. Maybe it’s just bringing the thicker eyebrows back. But then again some of my favorite actresses are not the most…’elegant’ in Amy Poehler and Tina Fey (btw, Sisters is a must see and Bossy Pants & Yes Please are must reads) maybe I am just enjoying a rare opposite side and a nostalgia of the 90’s fashion.

I read somewhere briefly, though I didn’t finish, about Margot Robbie being called ‘past childbearing age’. I don’t know if that was meant as a joke but it then came up again in conversation so I looked up her age and the feminist in me got riled up…past childbearing age at like 25? Hell, she could still be virgin age, unmarried age, college age, Still has a few boyfriends to go through to break her heart age, and still figuring out her life age, the club dance age, and making every mistake everybody aged twenty-five and younger is supposed to make age. Much less the fact that she is building her career at this age. But then, before my riled feminist feathers could get anywhere with the idea of it, another fantastic actress did it best. Jennifer Aniston and her Essay about not being pregnant and being fed up with the idea of women as the objects that Hollywood, tabloids, society make us out to be. As a woman of thirty-four who constantly deals with friends telling me to have kids, stay married (two divorces did that one) and having had a young woman come up to me on the beach trying to give me tips on how do rid my thighs of cellulite, I get her.

The funny thing is here is that as much as Robbie is ‘past child bearing age’ a woman twice her age is being hounded by the very exact same people who are saying so about being childbearing.

But lets talk about the scene where Tarzan in all his naked glory meets Jane for the first time. Standing there exposed, those….ab’s….and all. All I could imagine is that any man in real life isn’t that sexy even WITH that body. That reality is suddenly “naked penis dance” or “helicopter” would surely happen. Such is real life. Perhaps this is why a therapist once told me I had an un-romantic view on life. I am a bit analytical, a bit skeptical, and a bit overly-logical (as said the therapist.)

Perhaps this is why Ryan Reynolds does it for me so…all the pretty with all the natural comedy up front. No trying to be smooth to begin with.

I did get J to also watch, at home, The Holiday. Another cute and comforting favorite of mine. He of course expected very different with the casting of Jack Black, laughed at my drooling of an example of what a smooth man is in Jude Law (though I am pro-Aniston essay I am also of the fact that what pleases the eye pleases the eye and have not yet, myself, found balance at all times, however my own attractions will actually show otherwise on screen and in person, of course as a woman it goes beyond the outer package, JL is romance we women crave, real flirting with smoothness we don’t get, suave, RR is the comedy wrapped in a bow. I don’t claim to be perfect…most of the time. But we also don’t shame a man every time he eats a cheeseburger, either.) My favorite character of course was Arthur, Played by Eli Wallach. Have to say, Winslet is cute in this one but not my favorite of hers and far from my favorite of Diaz, though usually I like her quirkiness, it wasn’t….anyway…back to the fact that I got J to watch some sappy chick flicks this vacation. And he admitted to even liking them…a little.
At one point of the trip and ‘vacation’, we picked up some of J’s stuff from his old house since his ex-roommate was moving from there now. I found a super cool leather swiss army ammo case made in 1966 and it is now a purse….not an ammo case. Girlfriend privileges to confiscate such things and turn them into other such things.

Now it is back to work and hard at it. I somehow opened tab after tab in reading or browsing online but never filed certain things and now have had to trundle through what to exit from and what to save. A week or so worth of that in my life even when on vacation adds up to insane amounts. I nearly wish for my laptop to crash and just take the decision from me altogether…..and now I knock on wood of such things.

So back to work it is and J gone for a long stretch this trip. The first full day he was gone and before I started back into my work, I did girl out and make brownies and watch old movies like The Pink Panther, and experimented with my first at home avocado hair and face mask (I had some go too ripe too fast).

And I relished in leaving the bathroom door open.

For all my glasses wearing peeps.

7 worst things about wearing glasses, by BuzzFeed.

I would add diving and snorkeling (my latest issues), jetskiis, surfing, swimming, Sailing (losing those $1200 pair of glasses just isn’t fun, my frames are cheap, my lenses cost a ton)

In the south and summer going from every indoor A/C cold place to walking outdoor in the muggy heat (they fog up).


Yoga, running , working out, horseback riding.

Removing them before pulling a shirt over your head with a tight neck….or rather…forgetting to remove them. When your b/f dares to move them from whereever you laid them down to sleep. Constant smudges….ohhhh…kissing…the damn nose smudges. I have transition so no need for sunglasses. When the first scratch appears….your heart breaks a little.  Hair getting stuck in them. Everytime you drop them an angel loses it’s wings.

Cooking anything with oils (you have no idea how much grease really comes up into the air,it’s not the splatter, until you wear glasses.) Laying on your side to read/watch movies is a no-can-do. When you get caught in the rain.

Shaving…especally the lady places. (You can’t really do this in the shower and without glasses and thus becomes an even bigger ordeal that it already is.) Having to totally ruin a sexy moment so you can carefully take them off and place them in a safe…not to be crushed and easy to find afterward location. Be ready to kill when you didn’t do that to be all so spontaneous and the bastard rolls over onto them and crushes them. Way-to-kill-a-moment.

Dogs licking your face. Bugs…seriously in the deep south bugs on glasses happen like bugs on a windshield.

And my worst most hated moment…others deal with tan lines from swimwear…I have the super sexy line across my nose….like a wedding ring tan line…but on your face.

I would like to also add that every guys pickup line is asking if I am a librarian.

And holding babies with their grabby little hands.