What Is Glosslessness?

I went to Urban Dictionary (and the real dictionary) to see if Glosslessness came up as an actual word. Luckily no. It was just sitting out there all this time waiting for me to claim it, own it, and maybe feed it once in a while.

So what is Glosslessness? I'd define it as the inability, despite several halfhearted attempts, to really get one's things/life in order. It's a lifestyle. From schedules to closets, cuticles to table tops, nothing is camera-ready, and much is covered in dust.

Glosslessness doesn't mean you can't aspire to be glossy, like the pages of a magazine (pardon the cliché) or sharp, like the retina-display of a tablet that half the population currently actually reads magazines on. Your idol might be Audrey Hepburn, the queen of gloss, but deep down in your heart you question the merit of hair that shiny, and eyes that doe-like.

To further explain, I've devised the 12 tell-tale signs you may, in fact, be leading a glossless life:

1- Your floor-bed's sheets, comforter and prop pillows were all purchased at Walmart.
2- Your cat's litter box is situated right next to your litter box.
3- Your TV is propped up on a tacky white night table from the 1980's.
4- Your boyfriend's "man cave" is actually situated in your room and takes up a good 1/3 of it.
5- You can find fast-food receipts and the odd beer cap floating in your purse. 
6- You have so many comfort sweatshirts you are running out of room to stack them.
7- You exercise so infrequently that when you do your body is in a shock of pain for days.
8- You sometimes have to give your work clothes the sniff test before you put them on.
9- You wash your face with soap, and just soap, even though you have fancy creams in your cabinet.
10-You think that dessert every night is a god-given right, not a question mark.
11-You think that if you pinch your spare flab enough it might one day vanish. 
12- Your most prized glossy possession (in my case a fancy, fitted, knee-length coat with a faux-fur rim collar that an editor once exclaimed was fabulous!) lies in a heap of clothes on your action-packed, unswept floor.

Ani DiFranco once said in her song "Swandive":

"I've built my own empire out of car tires and chicken wire, and now I'm queen of my own compost heap and I'm getting getting used to the smell" I think I now know what she meant.

GOGF project of the day: Go buy yourself some slightly aged rum (5 years) and a six-pack of San Pellegrino Pompelmo grapefruit soda. It makes a killer cocktail that you can sip on while being forced to watch hockey. Go heavy on the rum.

Some relics of the "man cave": mountain bikes, framed hockey jersey, telescope box.

If you allow this guy to be hung in your room, you lack more than just a little gloss.