When I went to school,
yes, way back then,
it was astrology-
“You are definitely a Pisces”
“Nope,”
“but some water sign”
“Nope”
“Well then it must be an earth sign.”
“Uh, if you’re playing this until you get it right,
I’m born in the sign of milk.”
That works every time.
Actually, I learned it from my scientist hubby,
who I met about the time all of this was going on.
Then it was the gem for your birthday,
then your healing rock.
Imagine walking around with a dinner plate sized metal rabbit around your neck,
for “born in the year of the rabbit.”
And hanging off the chain a bag with six chakra stones,
three gemstones-
you, boyfriend, bff,
followed later by small magnetic discs
sold over here by the Kinder Egg company
that magnetically fused
if you were meant to marry this person-
linked by astrological sign attraction, of course.
This was followed by a wave of books
telling you how to get along with your cat or dog,
based on their date of birth.
No, I am not kidding.
There was even a small removable insert
for parakeets
and hamsters.
Then it was numerology.
“Sorry, I can’t go out with you. You’re a 1 and I’m a 7.”
Followed by the Tarot wave, of course,
And healing with gong waves,
And hand-, head shape-, and tea leaf reading.
And then, of course,
there are the anima figures you dress like,
or carry around.
While you shoot Pokemon.
Actually, I’m still waiting for the tv debut
of the anima cheerleader vampire killers.
Just recently, however,
we have, in my humble opinion,
reached the highpoint
of the superstitious talisman era-
a picture,
on Facebook, twitter, other social media
or even as an amulet on a chain,
of oneself
if female,
doing the “resting bitch face”-
picture someone trying to be Audrey Hepburn
and failing miserably.
(Actually, again in my humble opinion,
it looks exactly like a two-year old having a pout
because it didn’t get a cookie
or doesn’t want to take a bath.)
The purpose,
believe it or not,
being to keep you from getting lines on your face.
Really?
You mean the lines that turn up and tell people you laugh
or smile
a lot.
And are warm-hearted
and care about people?
Or is the bitch face actually a way for terrified small creatures,
who used to wear astrological-stone-gem-name on a chain-
markers to attract the “right” kind of people
in a world gone crazy in war,
real or digital,
or made unsure by trying to survive alone
in a world of parents who can’t
or don’t want to
help.
Remember the days of women in combat boots
and with shaved heads?
Or the masses of tattoos?
Or even the huge, sometimes sequined, eyeglasses?
Life is a scary place.
And without a solid belief system,
of one kind or another,
to quote one of my favorite writers
“you ain’t goin’ real far.”
So the thing about the bitch face?
And the stalking.
As a means of hurting others
because they make you feel insecure?
And finding out secretly how they live,
so you can copy them
without asking permission?
Rule number one, kiddos.
Those with a bitch face
don’t have a life.
Maybe they should have coffee with a successful senior citizen some time.
Ask them what they did in their life.
And get a lot of insight,
and maybe make a friend for life.
Remember,
these people survived.
Without bitch faces.
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Quahog on a Tightrope 