The Sum of All These Parts

The hair situation

My hair doesn’t hold scent. I became aware of this in my early teens when I started buying my own shampoo- bottles of bright pink, apple-scented Salon Selectives. After a hair wash, my girlfriends’ hair would smell soapy, fruity, or flowery, but mine always smelled tiresomely neutral. Like hair.

The cell phone situation

I had a cell phone- a pre-paid doohickey that was stolen a while back. 90% of the time, I forgot to charge it. (The other 10% it was charged, but lost in the cavernous depths of my coat pocket.)

I’m still stuck in the era of Salon Selectives. When I tell people I don’t have a cell phone, I get one of two reactions:

1) A roll of the eyes along with, “Oh, I WISH I didn’t have a cell phone.” (Which always strikes me as disingenuous.)

2) A raised eyebrow. It’s surprising how many people can do this.

Everyone, it seems, wants your cell number. I’ve been asked by my primary physician, my OBGYN, the pediatrician, the school nurse, my kids’ teachers, my friends, my family, some hairy guy at the gym… and I have to shake my head with feigned regret.

Payphones are going the way of the dodo bird, which is an inconvenience. I wonder the following: are people less likely these days to help you if your car breaks down on the highway because they assume you are carrying a functional cell phone? And is NOT carrying a cell phone while driving around with four kids in the car considered irresponsible?

The ear situation

The hole pierced in my right ear at Piercing Pagoda in the fifth grade has closed. I tried to wear earrings when we out a couple of weekends ago, but ended up exhibiting naked lobes. I’ve never liked things in my ears. Earphones are okay; ear buds are gross. Some women wear earrings that precariously dangle down the side of their face every day. They don bracelets and rings and drape layers of necklaces around their necks. 90% of the time, I sport only my wedding ring and engagement ring. The other 10%, I want to wear jewelry, so I put on a necklace and find matching earrings only to discover that my ear is no longer pierced.

It seemed like such a big deal to wear earrings in the fifth grade.

The underwear situation

I need new underwear. I can’t remember the last time I got new underwear. Occasionally, while in Target or Walmart, I think I might pick up some Hanes cotton panties, but I know this would depress the husband terribly. The woman has given up entirely, he will think.

I have a coupon for a free pair of panties at Victoria’s Secret, and will probably do their $25 for 5 panties deal. This appalls me, to pay $5 for a pair of underwear. I will throw away $5 on a magazine I’ll read for a half an hour only to pass along to a friend without a thought, but spending $25 on but 5 pairs of underwear? Why does this bother me so?

And, if I should suddenly perish, murdered by thieves in the street because I didn’t have any phone or jewelry to steal, would the undertaker judge me for wearing threadbare undies? With what might appear to be moth holes? And, I think the following question is imperative: if Viggo Mortensen and I were to start a torrid affair, would the threadware undies be a deal breaker?

The sum of all these parts

Sometimes, I think I am more like a shadow than a person. I am among the living, but am tethered only to myself. I lack a scent, style, and I certainly don’t need sexy underwear.

And I don’t know if I like it that way or not.