Still Polly

"My style is evolving," I told him. "I'm trying new things," I said. "I'm rethinking my style for my age and my size and shape." At this point of course, the man glazed over, probably thinking about what time the game started, or when he would next mow the yard. At the most when I start saying these things I will get, "mm-hm." At the least I get nothing at all, no acknowledgement of any kind, and I wonder if he needs hearing aids. If you know me you know I like clothes and fashion (and shoes), but you may also know that I do most of my shopping for those things in thrift stores now. The idea of recycling clothes is the noble-sounding-reason-why but the truth-reason-why is that then I can have more of it and feel little to no guilt because all these things cost like four bucks a piece. Welcome to the "cheap and lots of it" method of finding your personal style. The "cheap and lots of it" method has its advantages. First...

  "Wow, you are shaky." Yep. I was shaky. I was in a doctor's office, sitting on the butcher-paper liner on the oddly shaped exam table, and the doctor was just starting to look me over. I had called that morning asking if I could see a doctor for some new, loud, and persistent ringing in my ears. They were able to see me the same day, and I was grateful. But I was shaky and anxious, and it was obvious. There's nothing like exam rooms to bring back childhood memories of our frequent visits to what my mother referred to as "the blood and bucket" which was our gritty, grimy small town clinic. When we were taken from the large waiting room to the smaller waiting room aka the exam room, we would be left alone for what felt like hours. So to soothe anxiety my mom would start randomly opening and closing all the drawers in the ancient cabinets and we would giggle at all the medical stuff inside. Exam rooms now are simpler, all the bits and bobs are less accessible...