Friday, June 10, 2011

Sometimes I think a Straight Jacket will look good on me..

I have recently come to the conclusion that I have a problem. OK, I have a lot of problems, but this is one I have been unaware of .
I have a hard time enjoying myself, or having fun, when I feel unhappy with my looks. I know...this sounds so shallow, but its true, and I wish I could change it.

Because, do you realize that this means that I have only very sporadically been happy for the past...well, actually, 40 plus years?

Sad and pathetic, and I know psychologists everywhere will have a field day with me and this little tid bit of information, but this is not what this post is about.

It is actually about our  vacation to the beach.

 The Beach............(.add in horror movie music here)

Dreaded words for those of us with an on again, off again relationship with the scale.
And to be quite honest, it has been off again for a little too long  now.

I have tried to lose some weight before our vacation, ...enough at least not to feel like a natural disaster on the beach, but alas, I got side-tracked every time.

Eventually, with only a week to go before our vacation, I realized that even if I did not eat a thing until we leave, and exercised Biggest Loser style every day, it would not have a big enough impact to ensure me a happy, confident beach experience.

So I did the only thing any girl in my position could do....I shifted my obsession attention to my hair....

I went to see a new hairdresser in the rich, posh part of town, in the hopes that he could magically transform me into a beach goddess ......even if just from the neck up.

That proved to be no easy task, as his instructions were to trim only, and condition.. I am, after all, trying to grow my hair back out after a previous, similar event. (different destination, same motivation)

Needless to say, I was not satisfied. The image in the mirror did not resemble a beach goddess at all.

This was Wednesday.

Friday I went to a different hairdresser, whose instructions were to trim more in the back, and to color the sides a daring bright red,  "to accentuate the style".

Well, turns out we did not have the same vision. I was thinking beach goddess, and he, apparently was thinking McDonalds' Clown.

Out the window goes my theory that all gay hairdressers are good..




My husband, bless his heart, said I looked pretty. I think he just wanted the madness to stop.


Saturday:   Decided to commit the number one sin in all things hair....... I cut my own bangs.
(Number two is getting a home perm)



I am sure I don't have to tell you how that turned out. Now I not only had orange hair in the front and sides, I also had a weird little cheese puff on my forehead. There is a reason why people with curly hair don't wear short bangs.

Do you think this is bad? Wait! I have not even gotten to the actual part of this crazy story..

Fast forward to Thursday morning: The day of our departure. We planned to leave at noon, as soon as the boy got out of school. Hubby went to the chiropractor one last time to help his back survive the 20 hour drive. That left me alone at home for a couple hours...packed and ready.

NEVER a good situation for a crazy, hair obsessed person to find herself in.

I went to Walmart and got the funky hair color sets that Teens use to dye their hair blue, or purple, or pink.
I contemplated the blue or purple for a while, but to my credit, I chose the fire engine red. It was still just going on the bangs and sides, since the McDonalds red had already faded to dust rag orange.

Of course I did not follow, or read, for that matter, the instructions of how you should carefully protect your skin with Vaseline to avoid staining. Noooo. I just slathered that red stuff on, bare handed.
I did get some of it on my face...
    OK, OK, I got splatters all over my face. So bad that my 10 year old daughter came in and exclaimed, "Mom! It looks as if a vampire threw up on your face!"


To me it looked more like a really bad car accident. I wasn't worried, though. I have done this before. Just wipe it off with some soap and water, maybe rub a little,.... it usually comes right off.

Oh but not this time. Not this stuff. I wiped it with nail polish remover...still just as bright.
Bleach, toilet cleaner, even Goo-gone...nothing . And I`ll have you know that I have used Goo-gone to remove paint before. I still looked like someone who needed to go to the emergency room STAT.

Well, this should work to get the attention away from my thighs...

My hairdresser friend said to try shampoo, and to not worry, it would fade in a day or two. I was afraid that we might get stopped at a roadblock and Hubby might get arrested for beating his wife, so I took a cleaning sponge...the ones with the rough, hard,  green side...and I scrubbed that stuff off.

It worked. But only because I also scrubbed my skin off in the process . I now looked like someone who had been dragged face down on a carpet.

You think I'm lying? Here's proof... and these pictures were taken three days after.

I know, I need a nose job.... and I looked totally drugged. Must still be from all the chemical inhalation.

 I am done. Done doing stupid things with my outward appearance. It's what inside that counts, anyway, right?

Oh! Wait! I just remembered! My totally awesome super duper teeth whitening kit came in the mail yesterday! Maybe all is not lost...

Err....see ya!
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