Is that woman ranting about Zoom again?

At least I’m not ranting on Zoom!

I don’t attend “live” Zoom events.  I see my photo in the margin of the screen and gasp.  I call on the goddess of cold cream.  Goddess, where’s my cold cream?  No, get that stuff in the tube.  The expensive stuff.  I won’t look better, but I will feel gorgeous. 

Fetch a couple of barrettes while you’re there.

So here I am, cold-creamed, barretted.  Hmm, I wonder.  Don’t I get a do-over? I should never have given up jogging.  I should lift weights.  I should do a juice fast.  They do juice fasts on Netflix.  But if it’s a fast, can you have juice?

Okay, so I break my rule.  I’m at a Zoom meeting. When Bernie calls, Bernie calls.  I feel ultra-healthy, ultra-political. If you’re ultra-healthy, you’re what-the-hell about the photo. But you’re not going to a rally in D.C. looking like that!

Once I spoke in an English accent on Zoom.  Another time I quoted The Doors out of context.   What is in context for Jim Morrison?  Make note: go to Paris to see his grave.  Make note:  learn French before going to Paris to see his grave.  Make note:  listen to Jim Morrison’s songs translated into French before learning French and going to Paris to visit his grave. 

Make note:  Is there a Zoom meeting about Jim Morrison’s grave?