Well, folks, I had one of those moments that I like to claim a minor life victory. One of those times when things just seem to layer against you; just one thing after another. Claim those moments, own them and hold them as banners of triumph when you're feeling vanquished.
Anyway, this one, simple it may be, involves my glasses. My dear, sweet son decided it would be gloriously amusing to color my left lens...with a Sharpie. After a bit of research, which turned up all kinds of horrifying suggestions (rubbing alcohol, hairspray, WD40...on my glasses???), I finally turned to my creativity.
A dab of dishwashing liquid, rubbed gently upon the lens, the left to soak during the day. When I removed the glasses from the water...viola! No ink at all! So, I'm quite pleased with myself.
So, no, no, NO to the other solutions; they will damage your lenses. Gentleness, along with the universal solvent and time, saved the day.
Cheers!
Driving along in Kirkland , home of the modern yuppie, I’m passed by a new Mercedes. Lovely, silver, shiny, new, bling-bling; a part of me loaded with insecurity twinges while I purr along in my Toyota. Why? How come this is a metric of my self-esteem? Am I being unfair to myself, being upset by this train of thought and it’s influence? Consider, please, how much this viewpoint is drilled into us. Look at how often this imagery gets pushed into our faces, and how long that’s been going on. It shouldn’t surprise me, really, that I sometimes feel this way. Though my conscious values oppose this, the lingering thread of this programming has threads into the depths psyche.
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