Tuesday, November 29

I lost my keys in Angelina Jolie's lip cracks

Get this lady some chapstick, STAT!
Get this lady some chapstick, STAT!

I lost my keys yesterday and finally found them today in my purse. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Predictable. But they were in one of the pockets I never put them in, so they were as good as invisible to me until I made an effort to look under my cell phone. It's not like I wandered around the front lawn for ten minutes this morning, kicking aside pine needles and peering at the ground, and muttering curse words under my breath. No, it's not like that at all.

And then, for some reason, that made me think of my silent observation while watching a minute or two of Tomb Raider with my parents at their house over the holiday: Angelina Jolie has diseased, cracked, pulpy lips that frighten and confuse me. She has the lips of a clueless, sloppy fifth grader in January. The lips of a child who lets her snot drip down her snot trough and then, when the skin has crusted and flaked sufficiently beneath the weight of the mucus, scrapes her sweater sleeve across her nose and mouth with no regard for the chapping that will be aggravated by such a careless, disgusting action. I don't need to qualify this observation by pointing out that she's the most beautiful and ethereal creature to ever have walked this brown earth; you've got magazines and movies and commercials to tell you that. I'm just saying her lips gross me out. You're supposed to think that those big pillowy things would really feel nice just about anywhere she could plant them on you, but what you should consider is how uncomfortable those little shards of chapped skin sticking out would feel as they rubbed up against you. Ew!

Now that I've got that off my chest, here's an unrelated question I want to pose to the universe, while I'm thinking about it. Where does all the snot come from? How can it ooze with such force when my nose is completely plugged and no air can pass through? My understanding of science tells me that liquid is more dense than gas, so I can't imagine how air can't pass through my nose when snot can. Do I snot by osmosis? And where does the snot go when I leave work and it just disappears? Why do I sit for 8.5 hours every day with tissues stuffed in my nostrils and tears streaming down my face like some hard-on-her-luck Lifetime viewer? And why won't Claritin work for me like it works for all those lucky schleps on the Truth Box?

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