the point

there’s a point in every woman’s life where she needs to realize that she’s too old to continue wearing that thin, black, liquid eyeliner. please, stop wearing the scary liquid line. it’s going to frighten your grandchildren. seriously.
there’s a point when celebrating your very large weight loss by wearing stretchy tights and showing off your fabulous new legs is enough and you need to go out and buy yourself some pants that don’t cling so obsessively. those khakis are much more flattering.
please don’t hit my ass with your shopping basket/purse/child while i’m waiting in the checkout line. yes, i’m impatient too, but that doesn’t give me the right to shove at the person in front of me. it won’t speed up the cashier any. and yes, i know my ass is big, but do you really need to remind me of that fact by jabbing at it repeatedly?
you know when you’re looking forward to something a whole bunch and then you get some news and it looks like it will all be ruined and you feel that little thing inside you go *twang* with the disappointment? you really want to start saying things like “but..” or “you promised” or “goddammit, that fucking sucks” but instead you realize that it’s totally not worth the effort of complaining or getting upset because, really, so what? you just can’t decide if it’s apathy or optimism which is fueling the indifference.