About Face

I have one of those faces - a Face People Talk To (or, if you insist, a Face To Which People Talk). I have known this since I was a teenager. My family and most of my friends know this because they have witnessed it again and again. On an elevator, in a grocery line, even just out for a walk: as soon as I leave my house, I am fair game; complete strangers will come up to me and begin conversations as if we were long-lost friends. Even in an airport, or any room with hundreds of other options, I am always the one who will be selected for a chat or a gripe session.

Once or twice I've felt a little intimidated or threatened, but I'm usually engaged with someone friendly, or someone who just wants an audience, and needs to complain without really expecting anything in return. I consider myself fortunate, because I'm a mediocre judge of character with a fairly abysmal "danger!" instinct.

I have studied this ol' puss in the mirror, trying to figure out what exactly says, "Yes - accost me. Annoy me. Tell me all about your personal problems." And I haven't a clue. I've tried rearranging my expression into "Leave Me Alone" or "I Don't Give a Hoot" or even "Bugger Off, You Nutty Whack Job," all without success. I've learned to accept this feature, although the mystery of why continues to frustrate me.

There's a reason I'm sharing this, it's just taking a while to get there. I had exactly one brief outing during my Thanksgiving visit: Mom and I ventured out on "Black Friday" with two objectives: a memory foam mattress topper, and perhaps some new winter bedding, to go with my newly remodeled bedroom. My sister-in-law had given me a memory foam pillow, which I really like, and I'd been lusting for a mattress topper ever since she told me about them.

At the first store, Kohl's, I was fondling the mattress topper, trying to justify the expense to myself. Even on sale, it was $100, a fortune to someone who's been living on handouts for a year. And almost immediately, as if we were best friends in mid-outing, a woman came up to me and said, "Oh, I just love my mattress topper! You should get this! You won't believe what a difference it makes! I bought one for my sister! They are just fabulous!" and proceeded to tell me more, in greater detail.

So I decided to put my faith in the Crazy Mattress Topper Lady, and I bought it. And CMTL was right: I just love it! I can't believe how much more comfy my ancient, broken down old mattress is. Thanks, Crazy Lady!

I found a bedding set at our second and final stop, Penneys. In fact, the "floor model" was the only one in my size (Do I have the last full bed on the planet? Have you all expanded to Kings and Queens?), so they unmade the demo bed and packed it up for me. It was so cheap, I don't expect it to last more than a year or two -- the bedskirt needed mending even before I put it on the bed -- but the fact that I found one I like and could afford is like a lunar eclipse. (The smaller photo shows my finally-hung birdylicious prints, a rare impulse purchase. Maybe all art purchases should be based on emotional impulses.)

The rich cocoa color makes it seem even warmer; between the bedding and the mattress topper, it has become a bit of a challenge every morning, persuading myself to get out of bed.

Really, I can hardly wait til the next time I'm accosted - I'm going to tell them all about it!