We're going on vacation in a few days, which is nice but problematic because I've just concluded that I probably shouldn't be allowed out in public until I get my winter weirdness under control. A couple of weeks ago Eve and I went snow tubing with friends, back to this place. I knew it was going to be a game-day decision whether we went - I had been sick, Eve had been sick, Matt was in Japan, Angus had baseball. Instead of making a Plan A, in which we didn't go, and a Plan B, in which we did, I made no plans at all other than getting Angus a ride to and from baseball, until Eve got up in the morning and said "sure, let's go, it'll be fun." We had already overslept slightly, so we literally reached out and grabbed four or five of the closest things to hand, whether or not they related to snow tubing, and jumped in the car.
So yeah. We got there and realized that Eve, after I told her to take off her snow pants because wearing them all the way there would be too warm, had left them in the foyer. Fortunately I had brought a pair of K-Way pants that were slightly too small for me anyway, so she wore those and I just wore leggings (you don't get that wet unless you roll around in the snow). I had grabbed a jacket and when I went to clip my entrance tag to the pocket zipper I realized the pockets didn't have zippers. So I thought I would just clip it to the main zipper. Except, um, the jacket didn't exactly HAVE a zipper. This is the kind of thing I might have noticed if I had made ANY preparations at ALL.
For lunch one family had a cooler packed with buns, sliced pork, lettuce, tomato and sandwich spread. One family had some fruit and vegetables to supplement the canteen stuff. We had poutine and pogos. I almost said at least we had mints, but I just remembered that I just shoved a credit card, my driver's license and a ten-dollar bill in Eve's pocket (thankfully not my zipperless one) - WE DIDN'T EVEN HAVE PURSE MINTS.
So it was embarrassing but not catastrophic because Erica (the sliced pork sandwich lady) (HI ERICA) travels with three extra pairs of snow pants, various other winter gear and Fun Dip for everyone, and she got tired of tubing and let me wear her Lululemon jacket which was super-fancy, it had a zipper and everything. Still a fun day, but not my finest hour.
Then a couple of days later I went to get a haircut and highlights. It was the middle of a solo parenting week, the weather had been bad, there were early basketball and volleyball practices in the mix, and I was exhausted. I usually just wear my glasses and take them off, because I hate staring at my face in the mirror for two hours, but I forgot and wore my contacts.
I sat down and Tina went to get the stuff ready. I flipped through a magazine and then gave up and looked in the mirror. I looked tired. Really tired. All the usual lines and grooves on my face looked like they were being dragged downwards by the weight of not sleeping for three or four nights. I tried to relax my face and imagine a weight pulling them upwards. Tina came back and asked if I had something in my eye.
She started slapping on colour and twisting foil around my hair. I couldn't look away from my poor face. I looked so sad. Or angry. My eyes were almost closed. I opened my eyes wider and tried smiling. A woman walking by caught my eye in the mirror. She looked alarmed and knocked over a tray of rollers in her haste to get away from me.
I tried sucking in my cheeks. I tried puffing out my cheeks. I tried stretching out my neck. I tried wiggling my ears. Every time I looked away I could see my glowering, saggy countenance out of the corner of my eye. Tina saw me under the dryer and said "you're quiet today." I said "sorry. I'm busy hating my face." She said "oh. You should stop that."
So I'm going on vacation. With mints. And zippers. And I will try to stop hating my face. But I am trepidatious.