Big Sticks, Suspect The Old Lady, and Touch-ups.

Big Sticks
Some old dudes carry long sticks or thick branches while they walk along the trails that I frequent @ Griffith Park. I never really gave it much thought, other than, hey, old dudes kind of like walking sticks, I suppose.

While on a rare phone call with my tersely versed father, I mentioned to him that I had started going on regular jogs at the park. He immediately went into overprotective-of-my-daughter-mode. What did he say? He asked if I saw dogs at the park, and I replied, yes, I often see people walking their dogs at the park. He then informed me that I should be going on my runs with a big stick, in the event that I get attacked by a dog.

I shit you not.

My Dad gets more paranoid as time passes He even surprises people, with new, unexpected sources of paranoia that you should definitely consider, apparently.

Always Suspect the Old Lady (or Man)
If you were planning on seeing Devil in theaters, be forewarned of a spoiler. So - went to a screening of the horror movie, about a handful of folks trapped in an elevator in a busy Center City office high-rise in Philadelphia. Who's the guilty one causing all this ? The devil is none other than - spoiler alert! - the harmless-looking old lady. Yup - that's right - suspect the old ladies.

Scene: Urth Caffe in West Hollywood on a late Friday afternoon.
My friend and I catch-up over some lattes. Little did we know, an old man in his 60s was eavesdropping on our entire conversation, taking it upon himself to rise from his status sitting at a table solo to rude old dude nosing his way into our conversation and abrasively questioning and analyzing the facets of our friendship. After a few minutes, we went from slightly interested to annoyed at the rude tenacity of the senior citizen. Nobody cares, we're not interested, find some other women that are younger and more gullible and actually have time in the world to give a shit. 'Cause we ain't them.

Touch-ups.
I'm sitting on the floor of my living room, an opened bottle of OPI's Blue My Mind resting nearby as I touch up the polish on my toes. I wonder for a moment who has the job of naming nail polish colors, because that would be such a fun gig.

Lately I've broken out of my usual Ugly Betty mold - the daily rush to the office and the no-frills attitude of an individual who just doesn't care how she looks and goes for substance over style and whatever's convenient. So, my attitude which stemmed from high school of not caring about what people thought of how I dressed and being on the casual/sloppy side, now being a young professional, now correlates to pure laziness when it comes to getting dressed. And laziness is quite possibly the biggest turn-off ever.

People actually noticed. I just wanted to add a little spring to my step, a refresh, another push of the 'Restart' button. Amazing how monumental effects can result from minor moves.

I've pulled out the dresses and skirts from the forgotten corner of my closet, cleared out the items I would be embarrassed to be wearing in a car accident, and dusted off the make-up compacts and eye colors. No really - I mean DUSTED OFF. I wonder if Tina Fey does the same thing.