Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Uuuuuuuuuuuungh ANGRY!!

The burning ball of fire is in the sky – again! Uuuuuuuuuungh does not know why it return, but Uuuuuuuuuungh want it go bye-bye. Uuuuuuuuuungh say, “Uuuuuuuuuungh!!!” at stupid noise-beeping-thing-with-flashy-lights this morning, but it do no good! {beep beep beep}, again, again, again!!! Uuuuuuuuuungh need big club, that what…

Uuuuuuuuuungh, in case you were wondering, is my new name. I respond to all stimuli with this sound now, apparently. When I don’t use @*^&@, or even ^&@^*!!!, which while in some ways more satisfying also take up more energy – so I tend to stick with Uuuuuuuuuungh.

Yes. The vacation recovery is going splendidly, why do you ask?

Well. Sort of splendidly. This is the weirdest thing ever. One of my vices is acrylic nails. I’ve been one of those women who starts whining vigorously that she simply must get to the nail salon for a fill every two weeks for going on fifteen years now. (Gads. Really? {counts on fingers} Yup. About that. Wow.)

I was a bit overdue for a fill thanks to the sojourn in hell vacation, but not totally outside the window of reasonability. I noticed one (1) crack in one (1) nail last night. I swore a little bit and resolved that at earliest opportunity (uh, about Friday-ish) I’d make a point of zipping in for the redeeming fill.

Then this morning while making breakfast, I swear I am not lying to you, six of my ten fake nails broke and/or popped off.

“Stunned” is too mild a word. I mean, the first one I was like, “Oh, bummer. That cracked one popped off!”

Then the second one went and I said, “Dude, that’s not right. Stupid things…I must have hit those two fingers on something…”

By the time the sixth one cracked in half widthwise for I swear absolutely no reason, I gave up, got the medieval implements of fingernail torture and removed the last four without further comment. (Note that I do not say ‘without further whining’ – there was whining and lots of it.)

Nine years, and I have never had something like this happen before. Sure, I’ve had one or even two break and/or pop off between fills, but this? This was Twilight Zone material. I’ve been casting back in my mind for hours now, asking myself what I may have gotten onto my hands that is different from stuff I get on my hands all the time. The only thing that was different last week was that I did wash my hands about eleventy-gazillion times, a full one gazillion times more than the average week, because of the theme parks.

I swear I’m not a true germophobe, but honestly when you see some kid wiping his nose with his hand and then putting it all over everything he comes near…ewwwwwwww! Where’s the soap? Pass the Purell! GET ME A CAN OF LYSOL, STAT!!!

So as I was applying a layer or three of nail lacquer over my raw nail beds, I found myself wondering why in the world we women DO these things to ourselves. I mean, I know why I do the acrylic nails: I use them as picks on my harp. But why do we dye our hair (and have to keep on doing it, every six to eight weeks, like good little drones)? Why do we slather our skin with oils and unguents that lie shamelessly claim they will keep us looking young or ‘refinish’ our skin or what-have-you? Why do we smear our faces with artificial color as if $DEITY hadn’t made us fine enough?!

Why do 6” heels even exist? C’mon. Why?!

I really want to know why I own any makeup at all. Lay it on me. Why? First of all, I about never actually wear it. I buy it, wear it for a few days, and then shove it in a drawer. I ought to just send money to the companies but take no product. It would have the same net effect: I still am wearing no makeup, only this time I don’t have a drawer full of crap I’m not wearing nor ever going to wear because even on special occasions, no matter how romantic, I don’t remember the freakin’ stuff.

Also, when I wear it for more than a few hours at a stretch d’you know what happens?

Chemosis. You know, where your eyeballs suddenly start glowing red, itch and burn and water and otherwise look horrid AND THEN JUST TO MAKE IT THAT MUCH BETTER the membrane ‘skin’ covering your eyeball puffs up and swells away from the eyeball itself, making you look like a grotesque travesty of a human being?

Yeah, that. If eyeshadow hits my eyeball, BANG! Vampire time. Most makeup bases, too. And we won’t even discuss mascara.

So why do I own the stuff? Why did I just buy more eyeshadow?



Oh well. I’ll give me the nails, but it really is probably time to put the kibosh on the snakeoil.

And I will do so, just as soon as I grow up.

…oh dear…


Moorecat said...

I gave up dyeing my hair when my part went silver after just a week (refer my photo).

I stopped even thinking about it when they atarted making connections between long-term use of hair dye and bladder cancer...

Anonymous said...

Gotta love it! Once again, I swear you have been in my house (or my brain, even scarier) because I have a pathetic addiction to makeup. Do I wear it? HA! But do I own enough to keep Tammy Faye happy for a loooong time? Oh yeah. Yep, I do. And let's not even go on the hair-color ride, because my "freedom of choice" was gently but inexorably taken from me some time ago. I MUST dye my hair. So sayeth the lord and master of the house, with accompanying chorus of short people who live here. Sigh. Maybe if I just knit myself some hair for special occasions?

21stCenturyMom said...

I'm so glad to hear I'm not the only one who gets fire engine red eyeballs when I wear eye makeup (4 times a year, max). I thought it was my own personal allergy but it has a name!

I hate fake nails - for me. I just can't function for 5 seconds without ripping them off. I'm amazed that you could do all you do whilst wearing them. Nail polish chips when I look at it too hard unless it is on my toes in which case it lasts forever. Go figure.

Anonymous said...

I finally gave up coloring my hair this past spring. It's about 20-30% silver and doesn't make me look as ancient as I was afraid it would.

My suggestion on the makeup is throw our all the stuff that makes you itch/break out/etc from all the nasty weird chemicals and buy one container of one of the organic, mineral-based makeups out there. It you can tolerate that, then buy one concealer in that same brand. Then spend all you extra money on lipstick (which IMHO you can never have too many colors of lipstick or nail polish - though, like I wear either on a regular basis?)

I've had really good luck with Bare Escentuals but I've heard good things about Burt's Bees and Alba as well. The think I like best about Bare Escentuals is that it's a powder base and doesn't get goopy in the heat of summer.

Anonymous said...

I keep deciding to quit dyeing my hair... then decide I don't like the WAY it's coming in gray ... then getting all gonzo and dyeing it purple (that was fun)... I face the decision again in a few weeks... natural? or dyed again.
I'm thinking I'm going to keep at it until I turn 50.
As for nails... I've done the manicure thing, but never the acrylics. I fear the dependency. I just go short (it's the best way to get my nails to grow -- decide I don't want them long)...
Make up.... I wear it rarely. I love it as an accessory every now and then. But dude... it takes TIME to do it right, and time I don't have enough of. Even so... I get new mascara and new eyeliner EVERY year.... to avoid evil eye reactions

Science PhD Mom said...

Stop peeking in my make-up bag, will you? Lemme see, I think we have blush bought 3 years ago...mascara so old it's begging for retirement...several cases of eyeshadow that are each about 7-10 years old...hmmmmmm...I don't wear much make-up, I'd say 2 times per year.

Hair dyeing I have foresworn now. I am going to go gray gracefully and take it as my crown of wisdom. I'm too cheap to get it retouched every six weeks and too lazy to do it myself. Why do we subject ourselves to this?

You must have a wire strung harp if you play with your nails, yes? I have to keep mine short, short, short to play my harp! I just got my harp regulated...oh the bliss! Now to learn Christmas carols in July (my only hope of being ready to play them).

Anonymous said...

I'll tell you why I dye my hair - because my grandmother bequeathed me a beautiful grey skunk-stripe right down the middle of my head. Think Alexandra, the bitchy one from 'Josie and the Pussycats' (why was she even there? Especially when they went into space? She didn't play an instrument, all she did was snipe at the girls and hit on Alan. Never mind). Add to that, grey scattered at random throughout the left side of my head, but none on the right.
To quote my mother, I dye my hair so as not to frighten children and small animals.