Desiccation and Distractions

It’s Not-Enough-Damn-Moisture-In-The-Air season and I’m tragically annoyed. What was my first clue of this irksome season?

*  My sinuses are fucked. I wake every morning with a bloody nose. Yes, this passes BUT, hells bells, I’m going through a lot of tissue.

Yes, I use a nasal mist/spray which helps but clearly not enough. I also have a humidifier going 24/7 which, I swear, is gonna warp my wood floors into Pringles.

*  I'm putting gel drops or a bit of my nighttime prescription eye goop into my poor, benighted peepers almost hourly.

*   I use a wonderful, not cheap but not too terribly dear, hemp body moisturizer. It’s great but I’m blowing through it to the point that it would make sense to buy stock in the company.

Related—why are my shins always lizard-living-in-the-Mojave-Desert dry while my thighs are more like chicken that’s been marinating in olive oil overnight?

*  I’m drinking so much water, I may actually be a squid not human. Wait, do cephalopods drink water? Also, what’s the opposite of dehydration? Overhydration? Is that even possible? I just googled—yes, “water poisoning” is a thing.

Great, more health crap I need to pay attention to.
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I mentioned that we’ve started watching Only Murders in the Building? There’s deaf young man, (Theo—played by the deaf actor James Caverly), and his ultra sketchy hearing father. They’re crimers but not necessarily murderers. MAYBE. The thing I’m most enjoying is seeing their brief ASL convos.

I don’t know why but they’re signing at pace much slower than I’m accustomed to seeing. This means that I can actually follow along instead of relying on the closed captioning for the ASL impaired. Cool.

I’ve noticed that some words/signs are different from what I’ve learned. Reminds me that there are regionalisms in all languages. i.e., a soft drink is referred to as soda in the Northeast (or “tonic” if you’re in eastern Massachusetts and of a certain older age), pop in the Midwest and West, and coke (whether it’s actually a Coca-Cola or not) in the South.

Unrelated—dunno about the rest of you but Martin Short’s character annoys the fecal matter clean outta me.
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I’m currently reading Romantic Comedy by Curtis Sittenfeld. Yes, it IS, essentially, a story that falls within the genre of romance—the sort of book that brings out the never far from the surface snarling misanthrope in me.

What’s different about this one? Since I haven’t read a Harlequin fairy tale since I was 10 (more than half a century ago, EEP!), it’s impossible for me to conclusively say. The protagonist is intelligent and funny, not looking for a Prince Charming, and really into her career.

Sally, a thirtysomething divorcee who writes for The Night Owls, a fictitious New York sketch show resembling Saturday Night Live.
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Sally and Noah almost kiss after the show, but instead she contrives to thoughtlessly insult him – and next thing, the novel cuts to lockdown in 2020. The hectic opening segment gives way to something aptly slower, a period portrayed as an exchange of emails between the two characters after Noah reopens contact.
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With her keen observations and trademark ability to bring complex women to life on the page, Sittenfeld explores the neurosis-inducing and heart-fluttering wonder of love, while slyly dissecting the social rituals of romance and gender relations in the modern age. (source)

I’ve just gotten to the point where Sally and Prince Charming hook up. Now I’m afraid the story about a witty, awkward feminist is going to devolve into a sappy cliché. Will the next chapter culminate in a marriage proposal that leads to a huge white wedding? Will the final chapter be a happy pregnancy discovery? I’m almost afraid to keep reading for fear of crushing disappointment. Nothing worse than a good book gone mawkish.

Happy Thursday…I hope.