Having no computer at home has some perks. Like getting to squeeze some quality TV time from the otherwise usually TV-less days. Randomly flippity flopping through channels when I stumbled upon an adorable little film, The seven year itch. It wasn’t great, or as funny as it thought it was, but it was just so cute. People who know my preferences in things know I am not too keen on things I classify “old”. (Since I realize using less “stuff” and replacing all stuff with “things” defeats the purpose, “things” in that last statement refers to movies/music.) And there it was, this darling little thing released a good quarter century before I was born, and yet I liked it. And I found it funny.
Whether I was laughing at or because of it wasn’t clear at times, but it made me laugh and that’s that.
Moving on to other things, not too long ago, during a particularly absent minded week, I lost one pair of glasses AND broke my spare. Inherently, I have no issues with that because I can see well enough without them for most practical purposes. But for some reason I had to blab about this to my parents, and voila, next time a relative flies there and back, I have a brand new shiny pair. Now, this would be good news if its frame colour wasn’t an odd mix of brassy pinky metallicish shinyish .. gah, I can’t even describe it. I hate it. I try not to wear it. And I’m beginning to feel a tad guilty about it.
I’ve screamed about it, but *cough* people responsible don’t seem to mind. I mean if the store doesn’t have too much to choose from, you don’t buy. Or you wait. I know, probably, at times I’ll sound peeved about not being able to choose your own gender, but this rather feminine coloured frame is definitely not one of the reasons.
Grayish metallicish and thereabouts – the only acceptable colour spectrum.