My place and my face is all new again.
First with my place.
New wood floors in kitchen and bath. Now, that is a treat to forget about but then remember when the stench of floor glue hits you in the face when you get home at 5:00.
I guess when the floor dudes were doing their thing, they thought it’d be cute to leave me a tip.
Imagine that phone call to the leasing manager.
Me: “Uh, yeah..hey Michelle. Mark it in my file that I did not glue a dime to my kitchen sink when my floors were re-done.”
Her: “I sure will. And while I have you on the phone, your kid scared the carpet cleaning crew.”
I don’t have a kid.
Which brings me to, the carpet was cleaned the next day. Totally blew out the ass smell the floor glue left.
And here’s “my kid” that scared the carpet cleaning crew:
I know. Bad parent. Turn me in.
In an effort to help the carpet cleaning crew, I thought I’d move all the chairs to floor areas and
crap what-not’s I have on the carpet to a safer, higher place so they wouldn’t have to do it.
No good deed goes unpunished.
I know most use their kids as snack-bringerers, phone answerers, remote controls, etc. But I use mine as home decor.
That’s where he usually is. Not crawling all around on my table like a heathen.
So, my place is pretty rockin’ right now. It pretty much was before, too…but now it’s really rockin’.
I love my place. If you don’t love your place…find one you do. But don’t come to mine. It’s taken.
And now on to my face.
Being an old hairstylist…I’m pretty ridiculous about the upkeep of my exterior goods. The girl who takes care of all that beauty stuff gets way too much money from me. Way.
Shayda and I have a love/hate relationship. Well, it’s more her. She’s from some far off land that I can’t ever remember the name of and has a thick accent. Unlike mine.
During our one-hour haircut sessions, I dictate every hair that is to be trimmed and exactly how much. (See why she hates me?) Not less than 3 times am I told, “You sit there and be quiet…I know what I do.”
And she does. There are no less than 7 people that go to her because of me and smart sister. And keep going back.
Now, here is where the love/hate part comes in.
It was time for my dreaded face threading.
Look it up. No pictures of that to come. Unless I go when smart sister gets hers done…then I’ll put up plenty.
Sheer hell and I swear I see Satan during this time. I hate it. Shayda LOVES that I HATE it.
The closest thing I can compare it to is if you just go stick your face in a bed of fire ants. And stay there for a while. I don’t know how long…I come in and out of consciousness.
The results are phenomenal. I love it. And I always go back.
(Why do I do it? Good question. I guess so I can continue to not find a rich man with a bad heart. Plus, I’m a freak about having a flawless face. So shoot me. Just not in the face.)
And Shayda always hugs me and tells me she loves me when I leave. And I love her. And it’s genuine.
And that’s about it.
I finished up this morning with my regular weekend jaunt (I don’t even know what that word means, it just sounded usable here) to the grocery store only to wonder how I can go through the “15 Items or Less” line and spend $53.13.
Oh, and this kid kept staring at me. Teenage kind of kid. Always a puzzled look when I passed him and his mom in the aisles.
When I got in the car…it hit me. I think this is why:
And there you have it. An overdose of me that I was considerate enough not to throw on you this week.
I hope your week was as odd and as funky as mine. That’s what makes life fun. So tell me about it. Comment your ass off because I love knowing I ain’t alone on this stuff.
God knows if I didn’t have weeks like this, I’d have to find something else to bother you with. So bother me back.
I love that ya’ll “get me.” Thank you for that.
I’m sharing my awesome with Momma Made It Look Easy…visit Jennifer’s site. You’ll love her!