No. Way!
So I went and looked and guess what? WAY!
And then I noticed I have zero votes.
That’s right. “Hotness Vote = 0”.
That made me laugh really, really hard. Because seriously – I am sort of the anti-hot mommy…I’m more of the…coated in Kraft mac-n-chez sauce, boogers on the shoulder, sticky-kitchen-floor and oh-yeah-I-meant-to-wash-my-hair-this-week kind of mommy…
And then of course, with that visual in my mind, I went shopping at my friend’s Mary Kay website, even though I don’t even remember to wear what I already got most of the time.
Which made me remember that, yes, once again, I had forgotten to put on any makeup today.
Or, uh, wash my face. Which I kinda promised I would do at the very least. **sigh** {trudge, trudge, trudge she goes, up the stairs…}
While dutifully exfoliating my zit-garden face, I looked at myself in the mirror (doh!), and said, “Oh my. That’s right, I meant to go to the storage shed and retrieve my Jacob’s roving because I wanted to see how much I’ve forgotten about spinning.”
Now, why the realization that I am anti-hot led me to Mary Kay is obvious.
The connection between regarding my visage in a mirror and the roving is a little more obscure. I think it will become clear, however, when I mention that said roving is a lovely, variegated black and gray color.
I love gray and/or white hair. I love it. I find it arresting and beautiful, and always have.
Except mine. Mine is neither arresting nor beautiful. It’s just sort of…sad looking. My hair declines to go gray in good fashion. Oh no. It wants to go gray in random patches, and the gray doesn’t look like gray, or silver, or white.
It is the gray of a piece of cardboard left in the sun for way, way too long.
Ugh.
Hence, I have a great relationship with my very good friend, Ms. Clairol. She’s my bud, people. Oh, we’ve had a few hard times…like the time I thought I’d see what I’d look like with black hair. (Answer: Goth, only without the ‘cool’ factor) (Lord, I looked like I crawled out of a very bad vampire movie, I’m serious.)
And then there was That One Time when I changed my mind in the middle of a color and tried to strip it out and it didn’t go very well at all, and then I walked around looking like a calico cat for a few days before having it professionally redone.
And this post, this post right here, is why I need more categories over at the Blogger’s Choice Awards. See, if they had a ‘Most Chaotic’ or ‘Most Digressive’ or ‘Good Lord It Defies Description Somebody Get This Woman Professional Help’ category?
I would smoke it.
Oh, hey, that reminds me…did I leave the oven on…?
4 comments:
I've chosen the 'if I ignore them they will go away' style of dying my hair...not working. I just don't want to sacrifice the time to dye my hair--that simple...I'm going to go gray for sheer laziness. There, it's out... you are intellectually hot--does that count?
It's the white eyebrow hairs that upset me - not just because they are shouting 'Old Hag' but also because they shout 'Old Hag Who Hasn't Seen The Beautician For Months And Is Letting Herself Go'
Is it senility when our eyebrows start talking to us? Or should I have got worried when the laundry began muttering months ago?
So where do you have to go to vote???? You're exactly my kind of mom! LOL
Well, I registered, but since I am reading blogs at work (shhh!) and can't access my personal email, I'll have to confirm and vote when I get home. You have 6 votes now, though.
Post a Comment