Shall I strike a pose?

So, this evening, I found myself heading to a party full of political big wigs.  You know, the kind of people that can kill a contract with a red light camera with a mere vote. 

And within one block of the party, lights started flashing all over the place. 

I'm sure the local police department got a few pictures of some annoyed redhead in a vintage volkswagan van pointing up at what was, at that moment, a green light! 

All those lights flashing reminded me of something incredibly annoying. 

They reminded me of the worst memories of my entire life. 

They reminded me of my teenage years as a model.

It brought back painful memories of starvation, itchy make-up, and stuffing my size 5 frame into super tight jeans. 

Then it brought back memories of crankiness.  I was incredibly cranky those days. 

When we remember bad memories, it impacts our mood.  When we remember being cranky, we get cranky. 


I felt like I did back in the day when I was hot, uncomfortable and crabby.  I felt as frustrated as I did the last time I tried to put false eyelashes on, doing my best not to glue my eyes shut, while getting distracted by the noisy stomach growls from the hungry little girls that surrounded me. 

I was irritated! 

That was my tone when I called the police department to try to report the malfunctioning cameras.  The officer told me to call back if I got a ticket. 

Then, I told the officer who I was. 

So, tomorrow I get to call the company that manufactures said cameras and try to find out why I can't drive though an intersection without wanting to break out into a rendition of Girls On Film.

No matter what happens between now and election day, I VOW to do everything in my power to get rid of those blasted cameras!  

The powers that be best take care of it before I do. 


I realized that if I really wanted to win the title I'm vying for, all I have to do is tell the voters who actually voted to put those red light cameras in our city in the first place and I'll leave one third of my competition in the dust. 

People hate those things, too.   It could cost a couple of men an election. 

How bad do I not want to win?


Hmmmmm.....

Love ya,

S.

P.S.  Oh, I couldn't eat a bite at the party.  I probably left a very important person feeling like a bad hostess.  I blame those damn flashing lights.  For former models, flashing lights trigger anorexia. 

This is war!