Wednesday, May 9, 2012

on being a woman


**Disclaimer**
I wrote this under duress and medication. It may or may not suck.  You've been warned.

I woke up feeling less than stellar today, so I didn't go to work and went back to bed instead.  But I can only lay in bed doing nothing for so long.  I decided to get up and do something productive.  I brushed my hair.  Hey, I have to start somewhere right?  So as I brushed my big hair, something in the mirror caught my eye. I leaned in closer to look at my face.  I had what looked like two red lines on each side of my forehead.  Upon closer inspection, I realized what those lines were. They were burn marks!  I had forgotten that yesterday as I was flat ironing my hair, I accidentally burned my forehead.  Twice.  I started laughing hysterically.  They looked like devil horns.  As women, there is very little we won't go through to make ourselves prettier, more attractive, sexier, etc. Think about it, we wax for god sakes! I enjoy feeling feminine and pretty and smelling nice.  Getting a manicure and pedicure, getting pampered.  All in the name of "Being a Woman"  True, there are times like today, when I look well, kinda scary.  But that's beside the point.   So, I finished brushing my big hair and made sure the bangs would cover the horns and proceeded with my day.  I was a cleaning fool.  I think the meds I took had speed laced in them or something. I had so much energy the Energizer bunny himself, was getting scared!  But as with anything else, too much of a good thing can be bad.  Shortly after I rearranged my dresser drawers, does anyone else besides me organize their lingerie according to color and fabric? More on that later, anyway, right after that, I started feeling kinda woozy. So I went back to bed and started flipping channels.  This "being a woman" business is exhausting.  Especially when you're sick.

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Gray said...

Smiles!

My hair is naturally big. In fact, I try to brush it as little as possible so it doesn't get bigger. If I leave it unbrushed or just use fingers, it stays in pretty little ringlets. If I brush, think Stevie Nicks-mid 80s-raging coke habit-shooting word darts from across the stage at Mick Fleetwood. Yeah. Big fucking hair.

Nary bangs. They'd look 80s cripsy without the crisper.

Lingerie? Oh yes. Organized. Each set in its own ziploc, lined up obsessivly in pretty little rows.... oh yes... my corsets hung in the closet with love... oh yes... the corsets...sigh....

Gray said...

Oh, and I can stab the Ms. blogscourge spamalot in the eye with a curling iron, please?

Yvonne said...

evil spawn spammer- wtf?

deus ex machina- yay! i found someone as neurotic about that as meeeee! oh and? totally grabbing the curling iron for you. be my guest! ha!

'Yellow Rose' Jasmine said...

I once left an imprint of some words on the metal part of the curling iron on my forehead in middle school. They came out backwards and luckily quickly disappeared but oh my hell what we won't do for beauty! This post all made perfect sense to me...

Unknown said...

Yes, it can be exhausting! No, I don't organize my lingerie that way. I separate them by bras, panties, lingerie lingerie, etc. I wish I was as organized as you! I'm sorry about those devil horns. :)

Yvonne said...

YRJ-Ouch! ha! Sorry, but that's hilarious! Oh the price we pay to make ourselves (more) beautiful!

Kelley- lol, no worries. No more horns, they're gone. My organizational skills are both a gift and a curse! ;)

Chapter 56

The sunlight peeping through the curtains, stir her from her sleep.  Her eyes open and she rubs them a bit before sitting up in bed.  Eyes n...