On Women and Drugstores

So, Kathryn Bigelow has edged out ex-hubby James Cameron for Outstanding Directorial Achievement in Saturday's Directors' Guild Awards. Woman has once more triumphed over man. (Evil laugh).

I don't know if you'd understand, but realizing that I'd already seen all five nominees gave me a fuzzy, giddy feeling.

I know, I know. I'm bragging. Sorry.

Anyway.

I went to the drugstore today--Watson's, to be exact, where I bought half a basket of goodies (toothpaste, conditioner, etc.) and took my sweet time scouring the make-up section for the perfect shade of brown eye-liner.

I love drugstores. I really do.

What is it with women and drugstores? Like, what is it with women and groceries? Although the two aren't as similar as one might think, in that the latter has something to do with that more quotidian, obligatory quest for the utilitarian whereas the former is more of like a leisurely stroll--shears in gloved hand, ready to nip the blooms of one's choice--along some sunlit garden where all sorts of flowers grow in abundance.


But what is it with women and bombs? That would take a separate entry to discuss, I think. In the mean time, I suggest you watch Bigelow's "The Hurt Locker." An answer should be there, somewhere.

Yup. It should be there.