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yuck
Eeew...Gross!
If you've ever seen me in person then you would know that I have a lot of hair. Not exaggerating, A. Lot. Of. Hair.
Which is fine, and I love my long hair, but it does come with its own set of unique challenges. One of which is the tangles. I have exceptionally curly hair and it sticks together and tangles of its own accord. I use conditioners and leave-in detanglers, and, sure, they help; but they by no means solve the problem. At the end of every day I find myself standing in the bathroom, in front of the mirror fighting it out with the tangles while swishing with my mouthwash. (I've found that I am too impatient to use mouthwash as directed, I tend to swish and spit in the space of about ten seconds--but if I am busy brushing my hair, I'll swish for over a minute!) And, no lie, there are many a night that I end up spitting early because a particularly bad snarl caused me to lose my focus and give rise to the desire to spit and swear at said snarl.
This is all well and good, but you can imagine the kinship I feel with my hairbrush. Well, kinship is what I would feel, if I truly loved my hairbrush. I haven't found the "right" brush for me. I had, once, when I was a young girl. I had that brush forever (it was fuschia with a dark gray handle, white plastic bristles and turquoise tips on them) and it was getting kind of nasty. Hair so matted in there (and I pulled out the hair strands regularly!) that it was never coming out, was coated with dust from years of use. It was gross. But I was young and didn't care so much and I really loved that brush. One of my friends, can't remember who, though I suspect Kelly, suggested that I use a lighter and set fire to the hair and dust particles to clean it once and for all. Seemed like a good idea and we borrowed a lighter (I think--pretty sure this was pre-smoking days for me) from my parents and went out on the deck to do the job. It would have worked, except for the rancid smell of burning hair, that was eclipsed by the fact that the dust particles did not burn off. They caught fire. And before I could react, most of those plastic bristles with turquoise tips had melted into unusable lumps. Thus ended the affair with my favorite hairbrush.
My mother, I recall, immediately hustled me off to Target to replace said brush, but, alas, it was nowhere to be found (as is the case with anything you develop a fondness for that you purchased at Target). So I got a different brush and a long series of different brushes since that fateful day and I have never once loved one since. Some were fine, others, barely usable, but I keep searching.
A year or two back I bought a new brush, and I have really liked it. It isn't worthy of LOVE, but it is decent. But, as with most of the brushes I own, it is starting to get pretty disgusting. Which is why, last time I was as Wal-Mart, I ended up purchasing a new brush (after a loooong debate in the brush aisle...ask my mom, she was there!). I haven't had the new brush long enough to decide if I love it or hate it. It has some redeeming qualities, but much of the process is getting used to the feeling of a new brush on my scalp. Therefore, I am still deciding. And since I haven't made the decision, I have kept the old brush (did I mention that Target no longer carries that particular brush-bastards.) figuring I would just switch back if this didn't work out.
Until tonight.
Old brush is now forever consigned to the depths of "bye-bye brush", never to be used again. It is very unfortunate because now I have no idea what I will do if it turns out that I hate new brush.
What's that? You are wondering what caused me to get rid of old brush prematurely? Well, tonight, as I was getting ready for work, I was rushing as usual. I was nearly ready to go and stopped to briefly use the toilet. After I finished (pee only--that's important) I stood up and somehow, managed to catch the handle of old brush with my elbow or shirt or something. I am not really clear on the process. Then, it flipped up in the air, time slowed down, and I made a frantic grab for my brush. I missed. It fell, with a distinctive splash, into the not-yet-flushed toilet bowl.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
I'm not kidding you, I was ready to cry. I stood there, looking at the brush and had a quick mental debate with myself. Then, and here comes the gross part, I reached in and pulled it out! I know, I am deranged. It is a sickness. I actually believed that a hairbrush-hairbrush!- was worthy of being saved from a toilet bowl full of urine. It wasn't like I had dropped my wedding ring or something in there...that I would understand fishing for.
I have to say it. "Eeew...Gross!"
Go ahead...you'll feel better. And now I have to figure out how to either live with new brush or dedicate some time to brush shopping. Cause old brush is truly a lost cause.
Live and learn, people. Live and Learn.
Which is fine, and I love my long hair, but it does come with its own set of unique challenges. One of which is the tangles. I have exceptionally curly hair and it sticks together and tangles of its own accord. I use conditioners and leave-in detanglers, and, sure, they help; but they by no means solve the problem. At the end of every day I find myself standing in the bathroom, in front of the mirror fighting it out with the tangles while swishing with my mouthwash. (I've found that I am too impatient to use mouthwash as directed, I tend to swish and spit in the space of about ten seconds--but if I am busy brushing my hair, I'll swish for over a minute!) And, no lie, there are many a night that I end up spitting early because a particularly bad snarl caused me to lose my focus and give rise to the desire to spit and swear at said snarl.
This is all well and good, but you can imagine the kinship I feel with my hairbrush. Well, kinship is what I would feel, if I truly loved my hairbrush. I haven't found the "right" brush for me. I had, once, when I was a young girl. I had that brush forever (it was fuschia with a dark gray handle, white plastic bristles and turquoise tips on them) and it was getting kind of nasty. Hair so matted in there (and I pulled out the hair strands regularly!) that it was never coming out, was coated with dust from years of use. It was gross. But I was young and didn't care so much and I really loved that brush. One of my friends, can't remember who, though I suspect Kelly, suggested that I use a lighter and set fire to the hair and dust particles to clean it once and for all. Seemed like a good idea and we borrowed a lighter (I think--pretty sure this was pre-smoking days for me) from my parents and went out on the deck to do the job. It would have worked, except for the rancid smell of burning hair, that was eclipsed by the fact that the dust particles did not burn off. They caught fire. And before I could react, most of those plastic bristles with turquoise tips had melted into unusable lumps. Thus ended the affair with my favorite hairbrush.
My mother, I recall, immediately hustled me off to Target to replace said brush, but, alas, it was nowhere to be found (as is the case with anything you develop a fondness for that you purchased at Target). So I got a different brush and a long series of different brushes since that fateful day and I have never once loved one since. Some were fine, others, barely usable, but I keep searching.
A year or two back I bought a new brush, and I have really liked it. It isn't worthy of LOVE, but it is decent. But, as with most of the brushes I own, it is starting to get pretty disgusting. Which is why, last time I was as Wal-Mart, I ended up purchasing a new brush (after a loooong debate in the brush aisle...ask my mom, she was there!). I haven't had the new brush long enough to decide if I love it or hate it. It has some redeeming qualities, but much of the process is getting used to the feeling of a new brush on my scalp. Therefore, I am still deciding. And since I haven't made the decision, I have kept the old brush (did I mention that Target no longer carries that particular brush-bastards.) figuring I would just switch back if this didn't work out.
Until tonight.
Old brush is now forever consigned to the depths of "bye-bye brush", never to be used again. It is very unfortunate because now I have no idea what I will do if it turns out that I hate new brush.
What's that? You are wondering what caused me to get rid of old brush prematurely? Well, tonight, as I was getting ready for work, I was rushing as usual. I was nearly ready to go and stopped to briefly use the toilet. After I finished (pee only--that's important) I stood up and somehow, managed to catch the handle of old brush with my elbow or shirt or something. I am not really clear on the process. Then, it flipped up in the air, time slowed down, and I made a frantic grab for my brush. I missed. It fell, with a distinctive splash, into the not-yet-flushed toilet bowl.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
I'm not kidding you, I was ready to cry. I stood there, looking at the brush and had a quick mental debate with myself. Then, and here comes the gross part, I reached in and pulled it out! I know, I am deranged. It is a sickness. I actually believed that a hairbrush-hairbrush!- was worthy of being saved from a toilet bowl full of urine. It wasn't like I had dropped my wedding ring or something in there...that I would understand fishing for.
I have to say it. "Eeew...Gross!"
Go ahead...you'll feel better. And now I have to figure out how to either live with new brush or dedicate some time to brush shopping. Cause old brush is truly a lost cause.
Live and learn, people. Live and Learn.
Moving Right Along
Some updates from my little corner of the universe:
- I have now met 2 of my 8 students. Li and M. Guess I'll have to get used to the new abbreviations; I'm going to have another D, but I think I'll call him D(M) since his real name starts with an M but is being changed to D. And I'm going to have another A, but I won't call him that, since I've already had an A. That abbrev is already claimed in my heart. Either way, they were both really cute and sweet, and I know, honeymoon period, but if I can grab everyone before it gets bad, I have a shot at a good year. Not perfect, will always have some issues (they're in my class because they can't yet navigate a typical classroom), but a good, controlled-ish year.
- My room is starting to come together. The bookshelf has dried, and though yesterday's paint color was greyer than the day before's, it dried to be the same. WOO. Not the world's greatest paint job, but I'm satisfied. Setting up my rug area, realized I could have a second, now must go buy another rug. Sucks in that respect, but once I have it ... yay another rug! And another space kids can go to!
- I move into my apartment (technically) in less than one week.
- I loooove the custodial crew at my school. The female, Milly, isn't overly friendly (but she's also probably not loving the fact that she's doing so much work), and I haven't seen Mike in a few days, and Ed, the big guy on campus (he's clearly the boss) is mega-busy and only gets to deal with me when I want/need something/to have something taken away... so I guess really, I love Mark and Dylan. They're just fun and hilarious. I had a bit of a faux pas today when I thought Dylan was 17 years old and just helping out for the summer and he's not. He's actually 25 and working there full time (though going on vaca for a month first). So Oops, he's actually 7-8 years older than that. But it's also kinda good because ... he's very cute. Now I'm allowed to think that without having to get registered on some kind of Sex Offenders list :-P.
- I have now met 2 of my 8 students. Li and M. Guess I'll have to get used to the new abbreviations; I'm going to have another D, but I think I'll call him D(M) since his real name starts with an M but is being changed to D. And I'm going to have another A, but I won't call him that, since I've already had an A. That abbrev is already claimed in my heart. Either way, they were both really cute and sweet, and I know, honeymoon period, but if I can grab everyone before it gets bad, I have a shot at a good year. Not perfect, will always have some issues (they're in my class because they can't yet navigate a typical classroom), but a good, controlled-ish year.
- My room is starting to come together. The bookshelf has dried, and though yesterday's paint color was greyer than the day before's, it dried to be the same. WOO. Not the world's greatest paint job, but I'm satisfied. Setting up my rug area, realized I could have a second, now must go buy another rug. Sucks in that respect, but once I have it ... yay another rug! And another space kids can go to!
- I move into my apartment (technically) in less than one week.
- I loooove the custodial crew at my school. The female, Milly, isn't overly friendly (but she's also probably not loving the fact that she's doing so much work), and I haven't seen Mike in a few days, and Ed, the big guy on campus (he's clearly the boss) is mega-busy and only gets to deal with me when I want/need something/to have something taken away... so I guess really, I love Mark and Dylan. They're just fun and hilarious. I had a bit of a faux pas today when I thought Dylan was 17 years old and just helping out for the summer and he's not. He's actually 25 and working there full time (though going on vaca for a month first). So Oops, he's actually 7-8 years older than that. But it's also kinda good because ... he's very cute. Now I'm allowed to think that without having to get registered on some kind of Sex Offenders list :-P.
My feeling about men.......women and children
I have noticed like most women, that men aren't as aware of their behavior as women are. For example when you are one side of the train platform and are "Adjusting" yourself people on the other side can see you so please think before you reach. Also I appreciate that a man wants to take care of his feet cause Lord knows I don't want to see cracked heels or a dead toe on anyone's foot but at the same time I am grossed out when I actually see a man in a nail shop.It makes him less appealing to me. Its like its one of those things that a man would want you to do, like shave your arm pits. I mean really men would you want to know how much hair was under there before she shaved? I think not! While I am on the subject of men and women lets talk about children. Public transportation is the only place that forces you to deal with things and people you don't normally subject yourself to like a screaming child at 7am. This is like summer for children everyone around is birthing babies left and right and I being a single childless woman can not understand why. Its too hot to have a baby in this weather and there goes vacation plans right out the window. Sorry I sound like I hate kids. I dont I like them with other people just not myself. Maybe one day. Enough with my ranting. Its funny I have been away for so long yet I had so much to say. So if there is anyone else who agrees with me or disagrees with my thoughts let me know.
bitchbitchbitch
AKLJFEO;IAFJKLSFJLKSDJF
Just once I would like to be able to walk in to a store or walk around my mall WITHOUT some fucking scumbag male in his late 30s fucking hitting on me. I mean, the fucking GAWKING is bad enough but then when you have to fucking open your mouth . . .!?!? a;jf;lfja;klwfjlefjldfjsdl
I don't mind flirting with the two boys at Subway who fight over who gets to make my sandwich (they ended up both making my sandwich, and both ringing me up at the register). That's just funny.
And I suppose I understand that when I leave a club or a bar, I should expect to get hit on by drunk bikers.
But when I am fucking walking around the mall or Wal-Mart or whatever, when you are just fucking walking around shopping WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU to come over to me and say "hey baby how you doing?" or "hey you're looking real cute" or some fucking retarded pick up line.
I DON'T GO SHOPPING TO MEET PEOPLE, LEAVE ME ALONE.
Seriously, I WASNT' EVEN SHOWING OFF MY TITS TODAY.
Just once I would like to be able to walk in to a store or walk around my mall WITHOUT some fucking scumbag male in his late 30s fucking hitting on me. I mean, the fucking GAWKING is bad enough but then when you have to fucking open your mouth . . .!?!? a;jf;lfja;klwfjlefjldfjsdl
I don't mind flirting with the two boys at Subway who fight over who gets to make my sandwich (they ended up both making my sandwich, and both ringing me up at the register). That's just funny.
And I suppose I understand that when I leave a club or a bar, I should expect to get hit on by drunk bikers.
But when I am fucking walking around the mall or Wal-Mart or whatever, when you are just fucking walking around shopping WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU to come over to me and say "hey baby how you doing?" or "hey you're looking real cute" or some fucking retarded pick up line.
I DON'T GO SHOPPING TO MEET PEOPLE, LEAVE ME ALONE.
Seriously, I WASNT' EVEN SHOWING OFF MY TITS TODAY.
ANOTHER Snow Day?
I'm seriously annoyed right now.
I woke up, got showered and dressed, and was getting ready to go to school when my mom calls. Michael (the superintendent) called the store to say that 'due to the unknown severity of the storm (there are 2 inches of snow on the ground), school is cancelled today. All students who have already been picked up were being put back on the buses'. WTF, man? I am sooooooooooooooo sick of this weather!
Today was supposed to be my first at my new job/schedule, maybe that 's why this is so annoying. Because I wanted to see what it's like running all over the building working with all these other kids/group of kids. Right now, I should be with AB, helping him organize his life, but... I'm home. Grumble.
HOWEVER:
Since I am not at work today, here are some things I do get to do:
-- laundry (one load down, one to go!)
-- Work on E's IEP which is frustrating, but necessary
-- PANCAKES WITH SHELLEY. I'm so excited for noon!
I woke up, got showered and dressed, and was getting ready to go to school when my mom calls. Michael (the superintendent) called the store to say that 'due to the unknown severity of the storm (there are 2 inches of snow on the ground), school is cancelled today. All students who have already been picked up were being put back on the buses'. WTF, man? I am sooooooooooooooo sick of this weather!
Today was supposed to be my first at my new job/schedule, maybe that 's why this is so annoying. Because I wanted to see what it's like running all over the building working with all these other kids/group of kids. Right now, I should be with AB, helping him organize his life, but... I'm home. Grumble.
HOWEVER:
Since I am not at work today, here are some things I do get to do:
-- laundry (one load down, one to go!)
-- Work on E's IEP which is frustrating, but necessary
-- PANCAKES WITH SHELLEY. I'm so excited for noon!
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