Earrings, Sunglasses & Gloves.

I’m a stud only, no dangly earring girl. I like little fake diamonds. I buy them. They are sparkly.  They instantly dress me up. I am thrilled.  After a few weeks, I lose them. This is my MO.

I’ve heard that if you lose something than it never really should have been yours in the first place.  If this is true than the universe does not want me to wear earrings, sunglasses or gloves.

I have good faith in cuteness. I buy these items. I think “Yes! I can do it. I can wear this pair of earrings, place them back in an easy spot, and find them again. You go girl!”  I try. I really do. But alas, after a few weeks, I end up with bare ears, squinty eyes and cold hands. This is generally not a good look. This is why I can never allow myself the luxury of real diamond earrings.  They’d voluntarily drop from my earlobes.

I see women with glossy lips and fabulous sunglasses. I want to be these women. They look fantastic.

I buy “UV Protection” because my mother preached the dangers of nonUV-ness to me as a child.  Even at 46, if I buy a pair without it, somehow she will surely know.

I buy a fabulous pair.  When I wear them, I look like a dork. Like a bug. My lips may be glossy but my head transforms into an unstylish mess.  And then I can’t see.  I spend half the time putting them on and taking them off again until I get it right.  I inevitably break them. I have 12 pairs of broken ugly bug glasses strewn in my car.  No matter how I seek sunglass couth, I remain couthless.

Gloves. I swear there are 16,000 single gloves in my home. I have 4 children. We have not one set of matching gloves.  It’s -5 outside and at 7:00 am we are scavengers looking for a damn purple glove.  There are 11 million blue ones, black ones and pink ones but not one frick frackin’ matching one.

I alone am guilty too. Gloves mock me and run like hell from my pockets and purses. My children have given up completely. Their hands are basically frozen from November to April.

It’s ridiculous. I tend to lose these three items constantly.

Not just a temporary “oh, that’s where I left it.”

But gone forever lost, never to be seen again. Ever.  

A huge stash of fake studs, an oddly large array of sunglasses and an even odder and larger pile of gloves might one day be recovered.  At my wake, they will say:

“You know, that Jeanne sure was fabulous, but lordy, she had odd collections.”

Xo Jeanne.