It`s been a cold winter here in Prince Edward County. January has been consistently in the negative, often negative double digits (Celsius). I could say that is why I haven`t been looking after myself. You know, regular maintenance stuff like shaving and buffing and moisturizing. But, it`s not so much the cold as just... who cares?
This is a poor attitude to have! And, it contributes to poor self-worth that leads to hours of pity crocheting, watching repeats of the Incredible Doctor Pol and eating anything that vaguely resembles an Oreo. Oh, and facebooking. I scroll down my news feed about every half hour looking for answers to life's biggest questions. I mean, why else would I need to know what all the other losers are doing to waste their waking hours? (Sorry, friends. Don't unfriend me. You know it's true.)
And then there's Youtube! Devilish little website that really does have all the answers to life's biggest questions! I've learned how to make a penny can stove, watched Nicki Minaj's Anaconda video like a hundred times to perfect my twerk, and watched several abscessed pimples explode! Oh my gawd, that zit popping stuff is better than porn (one of the few things I don't watch on the Internet, believe it or not).
Speaking of spreading one's legs, I had a Pap smear two weeks ago. This was when I started to realize how far I have fallen this winter. My appointment was with a female intern. I figured if I just did a quick scrape of any excess undergrowth in my nether regions, she would understand. So, that's all she got. A quick scrape. Just around the flaps. I kept the 70s bush in the front for warmth. This is Canada and I feel it's my patriotic duty to protect the beaver.
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My husband and I at a wedding in October.
Doesn't look like I even brushed my hair! |
In hindsight, I could have done better. I should be doing better! It should be my belated New Year's Resolution to landscape things a bit better. Not just "down there", but I have really let myself go in my 40s. If my husband does care, he doesn't say so. He's a freak anyway, and I like him that way ;)
First thing's first - get up off my ass. I've started a new job as a server at a retirement home; which I have come to understand (because everyone keeps telling me) is usually a job for highschoolers. No jokes, one of the PSWs, a woman 10 years younger than me, said the other day, "I used to do (your) job... back when I was in highschool!" The residents frequently ask me how school is going. I would take it as a compliment, but some are legally blind, so I can't.
Meanwhile, I will use the Youtube to do every free, half-hour aerobic workout I can find. I do hip hop abs, Bollywood, jazzercize, Jane Fonda, walk-dancing and yoga... whatever I can find. Trust me, there's lots. My dog, Muffy, hates when I work out. At first she grabbed me by the shirt sleeve and tugged me to the ground, but now she just sulks around my feet and brings small items for me to step on.
Step two, get back to the tanning bed. My pasty, fish belly fish belly and cottage cheese thighs could do with a bit of bronzing. I'm not looking to become a piece of beef jerky, I just like a nice sand colour. Dark enough to blend into the landscape at the Sandbanks. I don't buy any of those expensive creams that the Jersey Shore stars sell for an exorbitant amount per ounce. It's bad enough I have to pay for something that is free anywhere south of the Mason-Dixon line. The heat and light feels so good on a miserable January day full of cold slush on your feet and air that hurts your face.
Next, scrubbing the feet. Cold, dry weather makes heels and toes build layers and layers of dead skin that cracks and catches on your nice clean bed sheets at night. It's horrible.
Now, I thought about getting a pedicure at the mall, but I hate, hate, HATE anyone cutting my toenails and the skin around my toenails. It just sends me. Mother fuckers pick, pick, PICK at your feet for twenty minutes when all I really want them to do is soak 'em, scrub 'em and rub 'em with something luxurious and flowery. I REALLY hate, hate, hate that it will cost me $32 plus tax and tip to do it, too. Cheap bitch that I am, I bought a $5 pumice wand at the drug store and I'll scrub my own dogs raw while I watch the Super Bowl. Just the half-time show and the tight ends - that's what I like.
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Nice eyebrows, not threaded though.
And, a nice scarf that I made |
Something that IS cool at the mall, and affordable to boot, is what they call threading. I have nice eyebrows, I think, but they get unruly sometimes. Threading is the coolest thing! I was directed by a woman of East Indian ancestry - now, I don't know if that's politically correct to say these days. If there's a more appropriate way to say it, I don't know, so I will apologize in advance. All I know is, she had really nice, kohl-rimmed eyes and I'm sure rich women would pay alot of money for her hair.
Anyway, she takes this piece of thread, puts the ends of it in her mouth and magically (literally, I cannot scientifically explain how this is done) uses her hands and mouth to direct the thread around my eyebrow hairs and rip them out at the roots. My "threader", the one with the nice, chocolate-coloured eyes, was very... terse. She told me to "sit", told me to "relax" and then she told me to "stretch". When she asked me to stretch, I assumed she wanted me to do a full-body kind of thing, so I started to raise my arms up over my head and gave a little yawn. It's not like we had been at this for more than a minute, so I really didn't know what kind of wimp-ass, white girl she took me for.
If you go... please note that the command "stretch" means to pull your forehead up and your eyelid down for optimal resistance while threading one's eyebrows. I felt like such a tool. Also, keep in mind that the "threader" is going to be about an inch from your face, so bring gum. Or, at least skip the sushi before you go. I was so worried about offending her with wasabi mouth, I had to hold my breath. It was $11 or something and I was quite happy with the results. Smooth, not too red (like waxing), fast and not as irritating as tweezers.
The bottom line is, I'm on my way to getting ready for spring. It IS, however, a work in progress. Tonight, while soaking in my tub of Epsom salts that smell of lotus flower and white tea (gag) I realized I should at least shave my legs. So, I took a disposable razor from before Christmas off the bath tub ledge and began to hack away at the inside of my calves. I didn't bother with my knees or the shins or the outsides of my calves... I couldn't see them while I was cross-legged in the tub. Out of sight, out of mind, I always say.
