Love really is blind

I've had nosebleeds regularly my whole life. Well, actually, when I was a child, they came about in the summer and left me alone around October. We always assumed I'd outgrow them. Instead, with age, my nose has become less discriminatory and seems to enjoy springing up a disgusting nosebleed any time of the year. But that's besides the point, really, since this story takes place in the summer. All you really need to know is that I never outgrew it and I have regular nosebleeds. When I'm in the comfort of my home, I get lazy and most prefer to take care of these by rolling a tissue up and putting it in my nostril.

I realize this is gross, but that is the purpose of this story. I'm not here to impress you. I'm here to tell you how it is.

Another truth about me is that I am quite the site when I get ready for bed. It seems to me that most women can pull off quite the feminine look, even when they're getting ready for sleep. They may leave their hair down and put on a pretty nightgown. They may pull their hair back in a ponytail and slip into a tank top and colorful lounge pants and still keep a sort of prettiness about them as they pull the covers around them and read a book before turning the lights off.

Something about me is just off.

I'm learning how to dress fairly well during the day. I'm figuring out how to dress well for my figure. How to dress more feminine, how to dress like I'm in my mid-20s and how to dress like it's 2008. It's quite the task, but on a good day, I've got it down. Even my hair can look right on the best of days.

So on one of these good days, my husband had come home from work. After spending the evening together, he got on the phone and I decided I was getting sleepy and wanted to get ready for bed before my nightly ritual of watching Will and Grace.

This is when the transition to scary starts. I don't like to sleep with my hair down, but I also don't like to have it in a ponytail. Sleeping with the lump on the back of my head is uncomfortable. So I put my fine, limp hair in a little loop on the top of my head, the width of it about the size of one's pinky. On this night, I then put on my favorite pajama pants, which are... wait for it... Care Bear capri pj pants. I realize that these pants are disastrous. Not only are they Care Bears, but something about them makes my short legs look even more odd. I don't know what it is, but they make my shape look squat. But I can't help it. They're comfortable. A little big, but comfortable. To complete the ensemble, I put on a shirt that I stole from Kevin years ago. It makes me look as wide as I am tall, but that's where the comfort factor comes in.

As I was about to leave the restroom and get settled in the living room for Will and Grace, my nose decided to have its daily nosebleed. So to totally complete the look, I stuffed a roll of tissue up my nostril. Then, I strolled my squat, wide little self into our living room with my tuft of hair sitting on top of my head and tissue sticking out from my nose and curled up on the couch, my Care Bear-donned legs resting under my tent of a shirt. I realize that this does not shout "Supermodel!" Unfortunately, it does shout, "Meghan!"

Kevin was oblivious to my entrance (how, I do not know), as he spoke into the phone about roommates. A few minutes into this conversation, he said, "I, however, know how to choose the most perfect roommate of all." And he looked over at me the way Steve Urkel always looked at Laura on Family Matters.



He looked a little startled when he looked over at me, but who could blame him, what with the tissue shoved in my nostril, the tent I was wearing and the tuft of hair sitting like a small bird on top of my head and all. But he didn't retract what he said, like I expected. He just kept looking at me like he was Steve Urkel. I guess love really is blind.