Melicious Details

Eye Witness News

On Sunday Clyde was working on the gate he has been building and when using the grinder (is that what it that tool is called? grinder? sander? skillsaw? I'm not sure.), something flew up into his eye.  The next morning, after lots of eyedrops and not too much sleep, he had a very red and painful looking right eye.

Clyde: If I fold up my upper eye lid do you think you could  look at my eye?
Me:  No!  Ugh.  <insert retching noise here>
Clyde:  You can't look?
Me:  Eyeballs are so gross.
Clyde:  It feels like there's still something in my eye.
Me:   I might barf just talking about it.
Clyde:  <silence>
Me:  OK. Let me call the eye doctor for you.

He goes off to the appointment I have arranged for him and after a while I get a text that says:  It was a piece of metal the size of a VW bug.  I think I could sell it as scrap on Craigslist.

Mistaken Amenity

I recently stayed at a resort in Hawaii that has redone their spa since the last time I was there.  This resort also has all kinds of facilities for working out or playing tennis or for spinning classes or any number of activities that involve sweating. Clyde and I always go with our friends Jim and Abraham, and we always have the same conversation.

Jim:  The spinning class is at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow.  Do you guys want come with us?
Clyde:  Yes.
Me:  No.
Jim:  Missy, are you sure?
Me:  Yes.
Abraham:  Missy, it will be fun!
Me:  It's too much sweating.
Abraham:  That's true.  It's a lot of sweating.
Jim:  Missy, what about taking a class this afternoon? We could do Fitness Pump at 3:00.
Me:  I don't do anything with the word "pump" in the title.

I then go to the spa and get a massage because not only does it not involve sweating, it doesn't even really involve moving.  After my massage I check out the newly remodeled spa vanity area where they supply lotion, sunscreen, mouthwash, hairdryers, etc. Many of the amenities are by a particular Hawaiian brand, but there is one generic spray-pump bottle on the counter with a handmade label that says "Hairspray".

As I'm drying my hair, a heavily sweating woman (has the spinning class just ended?) comes in, grabs the bottle marked "Hairspray", sprays it under both of her arms and walks out.

Should I have run after her to tell her? I didn't. So for the rest of the day I could not stop thinking about how it would feel to have hairspray in your armpits. When it was 88 degrees outside. And humid.