Pasasana is mine, the Return of Tzippy and Ric and Paint Cans

I know this sounds like old news. But I can now reliably bind it with no rolled-up mat, no wall, no assistance…at home…in the afternoon. OK, so that is not the same as binding it in front of the teacher at some ungodly early hour. But it is how things get going for me. It always happens this way.

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Today, I didn’t go anywhere or do anything much except for prepare 28 cans of old, useless paint for disposal according to the Town of North Castle’s ridiculous rules for disposal of paints. I had to open every can and mix what was left in the can with kitty litter and leave the whole mess curbside. 28 cans of paint, some of which were rusty and 10 years old. I HATE the former owners of my house. HATE. Actually, hate is not a strong enough word for people that leave you with 28 cans of VOC-emitting paints that have absolutely zero relationship to the walls in the house they sold you. There were paints for cars, for the garage floor, for a white house with black shutters, when our house is yellow with green shutters. There was paint for a bar – we have no bar. There was paint for a pretty pink girl’s bedroom. We have no girl’s bedroom. These people should have disposed of their own f-ing paint.

Yeah.

I’m pissed. Almost as pissed as I was when some crazy lady egged my car the other day, which I have not written about because the story is racially charged, and I don’t want to get into all of that. Suffice it to say that it was a minor hate crime, against me, unprovoked, unless you count, “Lady, you’re going to need to move your car” as a provocation when it pertains to the fact that someone double parked in front of my car, rendering me a prisoner until she saw fit to move her car.

Anyway.

After covering myself in paint, turpentine and lots and lots of VOC’s, I noticed that a package had arrived in the interim. How did I not see this? I don’t know. But the package was for me! Yay! And it was from my friend, Erica, who used to be behind the short-lived but wildly successful Tzippy and Ric label, which was sold at, among other places, Searle (a high-end chain of boutiques in NYC), and is now behind the wildly successful Sticars, which makes really cool magnets for cars. Sticars are in Target, if you want to go get some. My car is currently plastered with peace signs and whimsical creatures that I can liken only to Uggly Dolls.

So, the package.

I ripped it open, and inside…a touch of nirvana. At least 10 cashmere sweaters…too many, I lost count…in my size, from Tzippy and Ric’s remaining inventory. It was like opening a treasure chest. Only there were no pirates with eye patches. It was just me and cashmere. Blue, pink, purple, eggshell…gorgeous v-necks in the lightest, most elegant cashmere with extra long, flared sleeves – sexy and feminine; Debpc will know what I am talking about, and if she is reading this, then she too will reap the benefits as I will send her one! Deb? You there?

What a happy surprise. I am wearing a pale purple one now. Very my style. I like to wear Capezio wrap sweaters, and these are like the high end version of that.

So happy!

Tomorrow, Primary. I must remember how much I look forward to Primary. Must. Remember.

YC

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One Response to Pasasana is mine, the Return of Tzippy and Ric and Paint Cans

  1. DebPC says:

    Is this a test? I am here, I am here! In fact, I am almost always on the computer these days since it’s dissertation crunch time.

    BTW, I think that is standard disposal for toxic paint– we have to do the same thing here. I have’t gotten around to it yet, namely because it seems like such a pain. Thanks for confirming that.

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