My "Grease Spot"

Its totally okay to laugh about it now, but I used to be very sensitive when my family would call the comfy spot upon where I sat and enjoyed the comforts of home, my "grease spot".

I guess they named it after the fantastic product that "lets your soul shine through" from the film Coming to America. In this movie there is a scene when the couple gets off the couch and there is a stain from where their Soul Glo seeped into the cushions.

If you aren't familiar with the movie, then imagine if you left a french fry on a napkin...like so:

Your body produces natural oils; and from the amount of time I spent watching tv from the safety and comfort of my bed, one could come to the conclusion that I was the french fry of life and my bed, it's napkin.

It would appear that I was a shut-in that didn't shower for days; eating, drinking, loafing in my "spot". I think I was so sensitive because they were basically saying I was unhygenic. Truthfully, there were a couple (ok, a lot) of weekends that I wouldn't shower or brush my teeth, but by Monday morning when I had to go to school, I would shower and be as presentable as an awkward teen can be. In my defense, WHO HASN'T GONE A WEEKEND WITHOUT SHOWERING?

As (a less awkward) adult, I still find myself going all weekend without a shower. Its so friggin hot in Florida and I am covered in sweat 5 seconds after showering anyway...I have little care what strangers may think of me in my ponytail nubbin (I have short hair, efforts to have a flowing cascade of ponytail are futile) and comfy weekend wear. That is, if I even leave the house! If I do leave the house, its because I'm rummaging through dirty thrift stores and crafting with paint, glue, scraps of fabric/thread/paper. There is no need to smell pretty and dress up in my "sunday best".

So back to the the grease spot of my childhood..... It was me, and my stuffed animals, watching my favorite characters doing things I hoped to do someday. Here's what I thought I was doing:

Here's what they saw:

Funny thing is...just yesterday I was having a BBQ Pulled Pork-Mango-Pickle Sandwich (a recipe of my own concoction), drinking out of a juice jug (no glass), in my undies, on my frilly-doily-covered-queen-anne-chair, watching I Dream of Jeannie. It looked a lot like the above picture. And I'm okay with that; Cuz I'm an adult and I can have cookies for breakfast if I want to. Jelly?

Love
HATE,

-Jennifer