Habit Journal Entry #3

So bag going to the gym in the afternoon. I thought it would help to lose the excuse of being "too tired" to go but instead I find it makes my experience horrible. Here are my grievances:

1. It's too crowded
2. Waaaaay too many bros
3. I can't do my workout in the order I want because equipment is occupied
4. Sweaty people
5. Tired, even though it's the middle of the day!
6. Hungry -- but can't eat because I don't like to workout with food in my tummy
7. Unnecessary distractions: I literally watched a man with tiny tiny legs, like ANT legs, do bicep curls for 20 minutes. His upper body was enormous! He looked physically deformed ... except he did it to himself. 
8. I like to be completely selfish at the gym. Focus completely on myself. I want to be able to look in the mirror and not feel bad/weird/vain. 
9. I don't want to feel self conscious about how weak I am or how old and gross my workout clothes are. 
10. The girls that go to the gym in makeup and perfume -- because I hate them and seeing/smelling them makes me completely irate, and that's energy I could be using on an effective workout.

I just don't need these kinds of distractions while I'm at the gym. 

Hence why I am returning to the 4AM gym time.
The quiet gym time.
The private gym.
The not-hungry-yet-because-it's-too-early-to-be-hungry time.
You wake up and go to the gym and it's like a dream, like it never happened.
Nothing ever distracts you because nothing is going on at four in the morning.

Best Face Forward

For those of you who know me personally you know that I worry a lot about my face. Is it looking old? Am I mushing it too much? Should I be washing it more? And you know that I have very strong feelings about faces and what we should and shouldn't do to them. But really, I'm pretty lucky in the skin department and I find that as careful as I am, I sometimes abuse my face. Case in point: every morning I have to lick (that's right LICK) a cotton swab and wipe away the mascara schmearings that have left their traces overnight. So obviously I go to sleep with my makeup on. However. I don't want to push my good fortune and as I continuously age (every day by painful day) I want to make sure my face looks as fanastic as possible.

That said: I don't want to go crazy. I want easy, low-maintenance, skin care that won't turn me into a mirror obsessed woman. I like to go for periods of time where I abstain from makeup and when you're not wearing makeup your FACE has to look great all on its own; great meaning firm and dewy and delicious. The other day I looked at a picture of me wearing no make up and I looked ... not old ... but sort of tired, not my freshest and most appealing. I knew that the day would come when I would have to invest more time into maintaining my face, and that time is now.

I've heard super good stuff about the Olay line of anti-aging skin care so I went to their website and did an online skin care consultation. The consultation is just an in-depth questionnaire about what you expect from your products, what skin type you are, and how much work you're willing to do. Then you receive a nice laundry list of what products they recommend for you to use. Here's mine:

An anti-aging face wash that cleans "down to the pores"

A regenerating serum for pre-moisturizer application



Daily moisturizer for fighting the 7 signs of aging


I'm very excited to pick up these products and start using them. Apparently the serum is supposed to be SO awesome -- just read the reviews -- making your skin smooth and soft as baby bums. The Olay site also recommended an eye serum but that seemed like too much and I'll probably only use the regenerating serum in the mornings after I babywipe my face because I only wash my face in the shower because my skin is so flippin' dry I can overwash it, regardless of how gentle the soap is. I know that this goes against every piece of skincare advice out there, but one also has to listen to one's face. My face says, "if you wash me every day, I will crack." And I want to love the skin I'm in, not torture it. Well, not yet anyway.

The Youth List

Things I will do today to keep me young for tomorrow:

1. Sleep on my back
2. Moisturize
3. Drink half my weight in ounces of water
4. Hug my puppy
5. Love my husband
6. Eat an apple
7. Read a good book
8. Gab and cackle with my friends
9. Organize my time
10. Forgive my shortcomings
11. Drive fast with the radio loud
12. Wear sunglasses
13. Laugh heartily at anything I find funny
14. Take a nap and then go to the gym
15. Sing show tunes
16. Brush and floss my teeth
17. Daydream

Out with the Old

And in with the newer,

simpler,

better.

The groundhog did not see his shadow,

giving me hope for an early spring

and a piping hot global-warming sponsored summer.

I'm eating good food,

exercising every day,

and reading every night.

I'm over the January slump

and jumping into 2011 with both feet;

it only took me 31 days.

Get ready for a superb year of living.

Celebration

August is a big month for us; it's our anniversary and Tom's birthday. So we had to have a fun celebration with the two of us. Vegas is like our mini-vaca spot. It's becoming a tradition and we really know how to party there. We have specific things we do every time.

[First]: you must walk the strip. Vegas = walking. That's what makes it fun. No cabs, no bus, no monorail. You walk and walk and walk until you're tired and you want to sit and drink and gamble. Then you walk around slightly inebriated and laugh at the funny people ... or yourself. Whichever.

[Second]: you must play the penny slots. You find an entertaining machine, turn the volume all the way up, put in your happy dollar, and then proceed to play one line at a time, one credit per line. It's awesome. $1 buys you 100 spinnings of the reel. And if you go slow, you can get like 3 drinks in a dollar's time. How fantastic is that? Plus, you win fairly often; it's not a lot of money, obviously, but winning means the fun will last longer. I'm telling you, Vegas is only fun when you don't lose too much, and when the odds are stacked against you (because they always are in a casino) why not maximize the fun on the least amount of money?

[Third]: you must have loud sex to disturb your hotel neighbors. We hear it -- we hear the people in the middle of the night and when you walk down the hallway. You may as well contribute.

[Fourth]: you must nap. Napping provides essential energy for the aforementioned necessary activities. Besides, you're on vacation. You're on vacation in Vegas; the ultimate indulgence town. Take a nap and then you can walk all night, play the penny slots until all hours of the morning, and end the evening with some loud sex.

[Fifth]: go see a show. I know the tickets can seem a little pricey, but they're worth it. Tom dragged me to see Carrot Top (I so did not want to go) but it was the funniest show ever. We both laughed so hard the first half hour we were worried for our well being. We've also seen nearly every Cirque du Soleil show. Fantastic.

[Sixth]: eat at a buffet. You never get your money's worth and the food is usually middling to fair. You feel super fat after all the desserts. But you need energy! You're here to party and let go -- that requires food. Plus, food will help with the hangovers. Nothing cures a hangover like three plates of eggs benedict and hasbrowns.

[Seventh]: you must buy a frozen drink from Fat Tuesdays in the Miracle Mile Shops. I don't know why. The heavens demand it. My personal favorite is mango and strawberry. They're alcoholic. They're portable. They're frozen. Perfect for Vegas.

As you can see, we're old pros.
We love it and you should love it too.
So start planning your trip and get out there. I might run in to you ...

Doing Nothing

Since the performances last week, I have had a break from ballet and apparently that translates to my brain as a break from everything. I haven't done my hair or put on an ounce of make-up all week. I haven't done any laundry or cleaned up one mess. Yesterday I finally caved and emptied the dishwasher so it could be loaded again. And today I am going to TRY and get the laundry done. And tomorrow I'm going to TRY and do some grocery shopping. I have a ladies luncheon on Sunday, for which I'm making Gourmet Mac and Cheese and I am completely unprepared.

But can I just say ...

There are few things as liberating as giving the finger to society's expecations. I can understand why people become social deviants; it's very freeing. Successful women are expected to do everything; career, school, babies, marriage -- and all the while look fabulous, eat healthy, face smiling. Unfortunately the desire to maintain societal norms plagues even the most open-minded of us. However, this week, I've said, "No thank you" and gone all natural. My face is perfectly clean. My hair has no hair spray, no back combing. When I go to sleep at night I look exactly how I will look in the morning. I've never wanted to be one of those women. You know, the women that can't just pick up and go because they have to put their face on. I mean, I may look less attractive without makeup on, but that's my face; my real, honest-to-goodness face, as nature intended. And I'm not afraid to show it to the world ... or my husband. I'm not saying that I'm not a fan of makeup. I am. I love the stuff. And I enjoy spending hours getting ready and making myself up to the nines. It's just that occasionally I like to feel simple, to live simple, to take 10 more minutes to read instead of primping my hair. I challenge all of you to give it a try. Let your beautiful self out -- uninhibited by colors and concoctions. And say hello to the mirror.

Getting What You Want

Yeah, let's talk about being happy. Let's talk about what it means to "get what you want" and the struggle to get. Let's talk about materialism, in all its glory, and let's talk about the meaning of life.

I will open the discussion.

I ate expired soup today. Why was it expired? I have no idea -- apparently when you stuff your face with anything and everything for a two month period you skip over 100 calorie soup. Then it just sits in your pantry and goes bad. But I ate the soup, and I ate it with the looming date of November 29th 2009 heavy in my belly, and I started thinking about my life. I have so much food in my house that we literally NEVER run out. Even when we have "nothing to eat" there is PLENTY to eat. Plenty. This abundance of food makes me ponder the relevance of being on a diet, because to me, being on a diet is essentially waste. I eat smaller portions, true, but I also have to let rampant amounts of food go bad because I just didn't have the caloric allowance to eat that cantaloupe or eggplant or cheese pizza. And apparently, 100 calorie soup.

What is the point of dieting, anyway? I'm a small person. I look fairly decent clothed and not too scary naked. But to our current society "being on a diet" is like saying "I'm cool." Because it means you have self control and a life good enough that you can complain about eating TOO much. And in my mind dieting is synonymous with materialism. Even though you're doing the exact opposite (saying "no more" as opposed to gathering more and more objects) you are showing a certain lavishness, a certain type of fabulosity that only translates to being thin=more clothes=fashionable. It's a strange cycle that in a natural world could not exist but we live in a world with 9 year old twinkies and cheese from a can and diabolical corn breakdowns.

I'll tell you why I diet. Because I want to be thin and because I want to be healthy. Way healthier than is really necessary for my desk job, but nevertheless, I strive towards seeing a beautiful model-thin self in the mirror. This is not to say that I'm not happy with myself; I am. I'm truly thrilled with the way I turned out. I was a very insecure tween but somehow I blossomed and never looked back. I learned at a young age that mistakes were forgivable and that changes could be made and you could rise triumphant as whatever you wanted. I accept my flaws as challenges -- something to continuously strive to make better. And also, something to laugh about with my friends and commiserate with them. Flaws, after all, make us human and not divine. Who wants to be perfect? It's probably dreadfully boring. What do you DO each day if you can't work towards a better life and a better self? And it's fun to use your inner-eye and speculate on the future; the future can't be different or better if everything is already Utopian.

But when does the "fun" striving-for-change switch to "my life isn't good enough" and crushing waves of inadequacy? I'm not really sure. I'll be sure to let you all know when I get there. But I can see how it is easy to start thinking more about the getting and not about the here and now. Life, to me, is a two act play happening simultaneously. Act One is now, Act Two is the future. You can't enjoy the story, the journey, the plot, unless you watch Act One -- because otherwise you won't know what the fuck is going on. You won't know the characters, you won't understand their development, you won't, basically, like the show. And if the show is YOUR LIFE ... don't you want to like it? So in order to like it you've got to watch Act One.

My Act One consists of struggling with my weight and my puppy and my marriage and ballet and my career and my family and my mind and my writing and ... so many things. But. The point is -- I'm enjoying the NOW and looking forward to the future, the impossibly bright and hopeful future that will be everything it's supposed to be if I can just sit still through Act One. So I'm not going to become too bogged down by my inadequacies, and I'm not going to obsess too much about the sugar cookie I ate for breakfast yesterday, and I'm not going to worry about the job I don't have and the money I don't make, and I'm not going to stress about the people that don't like me.

Scarlett said it best: "I'll think about that tomorrow."

And today I'll think about all the good things in my life:

A family I love,

My husband and best friend rolled into one,

A puppy to cuddle,

Friends I can rely on,

New challenges,

And a full pantry.

Not-So-Busy Worker Bee

I've been busy doing too much thinking and not enough doing. And that means that I haven't been writing as much as I should because my head is too full of the ideas I should be putting into my application. (Yes, I'm going to apply for yet another job. I hope I get this one because I reeeeaaally want this one.)

What I hate most is that I'm not actually doing anything more; I just have more to think about. I'm back on my diet, that means lots of thinking about what to eat and what not to eat (exhausting). I've got to finish my application for this new position. IF I get this position I've got to decide if I'm going to apply for graduate school. I'm working on my novel -- so that's floating around in my wee head too. I have work crap to do and all the regular day to day stuff. This is one of my worst qualities. I become paralyzed by my own brain. My mind is thinking thinking thinking and it stops me from DOING. I try to organize my busy thoughts with lists and lists and lists. But it doesn't work. In order to combat the full head I try to empty it with constant entertainment; books on tape, tv, movies, music. And all the while what would really help the most is some goddamned silence but I won't give it to myself. I just keep half-assing everything, spilling out just enough from my over-crowded noggin to keep from exploding.

It took considerable effort to write this lame and scattered post. Help!

Mucus, My Friend, My Enemy

Well friends. I am finally getting to the point where I can say, I'm better. I'm still coughing -- and that is gross -- but at least I'm not medicating myself up every 4 hours. This past illness experience has brought me to a revelation: human bodies are retarded.

In my imagination I think my head cold started with a simple irritant, like pollen or dust. In order to combat the irritant my body began to create a protective shield of mucus around my brain. The production of mucus grew and grew until my sinuses became infected and I wanted to die. Upon realizing that the mucus was causing the host (me) to lose the will to live, my body finally began to break up the mucus and allow me some respite from a heavy head. Then came the excessive drainage and nose blowing ... and I mean EXCESSIVE. I went through 2 boxes of kleenex and half a roll of toilet paper. My poor nose became chapped and red like a reindeer despite the fact that I'd been liberally applying aquaphor and neosporin and lotion. But it didn't do any good because about 2 minutes after applying the aquaphor/neosporin/lotion I would have to blow my fucking nose again. And you all know how much I hate to blow my nose, so much, in fact, that I nearly-never-ever blow it. Yet every morning this week I have woken up around 5 am to blow my nose some more. Of course, now I have a cough because the mucus has drained into my lungs and, surprsingly, my lungs don't enjoy mucus, they enjoy air. So I am forced to cough and cough and clear my throat all day long.

Son of a bitch.

What kind of sense does this make, body? Can't you just make the approriate amount of protective mucus and then let me go on my merry way? I don't mind being a little stuffy, but let's not let things get out of control like this again. I know that you, body, are a mark of evolutionary wonder and that I should be grateful for all the things you allow me to do. And I am. But let's not get sick again for like 2 years. Or I will punch you in the face.

Discontinued

I am one of those people who become hideously attached to things. And lately the world has done me a disfavor by trying to discontinue many products I consider vital to my existence. It started in the fall when I wanted to buy a duvet cover from Ikea...

"Do you know when you'll be getting anymore of these in?" I asked the sales girl (I say girl because she was younger than me)
"That line is being discontinued."
"No!" I shriek.
She nods her head in sympathy (false sympathy, I am soon to find out), "I know."
"Where can I get it now? Anywhere?"
"I guess you could look online, sometimes there are discontinued items there. Have you seen what is replacing it?"
Then she walks me over to a not-even-close-to-what-I-want duvet and says, "This is nice."
This is when I ask her if I can buy the floor model and when I begin to hate her.
"No, I'm sorry. I almost lost my job because I sold someone the floor model. We can't sell it if it's already been opened. Because, like, I don't know what could be on it, like blood born pathogens, you know?"

See? No sympathy. And, excuse me, Ikea, you sell opened shit all the time; it's called the "AS IS" section.

Anyway, so that happened. And sucked.

Next, I happened to notice that my particular brand of mascara was sometimes out of stock. But I didn't panic because it would be on the shelf next time. And then I would buy 2 of them, for good measure. However, now for the past couple months I CAN NOT find it. What am I going to do? I tried some new kinds, but I need the kind that curls your lashes because mine are pin straight. I'm almost out. I'm going to die.

And then there is this air freshener we like to use after the puppy goes number two. It's the best air freshener because it smells like green apples and fresh grass -- not like flowers and potpourri and old ladies. I snagged it the first time on a whim. The second time I noticed it was on clearance ... OH NO! ... and grabbed another bottle even though the other was still relatively full. And now? Gone. Never to be had again.

Don't companies realize that picky people like me need things that they like to be around FOREVER? (By the way, I do know that I will probably turn into an insane old lady.) There isn't always something better to replace it and then I'm stuck with mediocre crap that I don't like and dreaming about the good old days when stuff I liked was in stock.

Not "New Year's" Goals

I want to TRY and do some things this year. They are not goals. I refuse to call them a goal because then I will inevitably fail because I will place the "goals" on the shelf of "tomorrow" and never complete them. Like last year. Plus, I think when you make it a goal you make it a job. And I already have one of those. These are more like self-improvement, make-yourself-more-interesting-to-yourself things. I call them things, not goals.

So in order to prevent hate and loathing of self, here are the THINGS ...

Become a ballerina again
Find a suitable penpal
Write a lot
Cook more
Eat less
Go running
Get promoted
Get into graduate school
Learn to play the cello -- cellos are awfully sexy

Ears Shut

Typically when I'm at work in the early morning hours I listen to NPR. I love the voices of the newcasters as if they were old friends sitting in my office. But with the recent horror in Haiti, I've had to stop listening.

It's not attractive to cry on your paperwork.
It's not appropriate to cry at work.
It's not good to slam your fist on the desk in frustration at yet another sad story.

So, I hope things are going well there, although I'm sure they aren't much improved, but I can't tune in right now. The urge to quit my job and run down to Haiti to help organize relief efforts is too strong. And when that urge dies down, my sad no-control-over-anything feelings seep in.

Haiti -- you are in my heart.

Laundry Continued

Well, I wanted to get up early today and finish the laundry. The whites were folded (beautifully, I might add) and put away in their proper place. I slept in my shabby chic sheets and a clean comforter. And all my best intentions were aimed at finishing the laundry today. But it's 10:13 PM and I am running the washing machine -- again -- and fluffing the clothing in the dryer. So, enter plan B. As soon as I am done writing this post I will take the colors out of the dryer and hang up all the shirts (on white hangers in color order) immediately (or immediantely, as some people say) and then I will divvy socks from underwear. Match the socks. Fold the underwear. Put away. It is only due to my love of my closet that I go through this ordeal. I so wish I could throw socks at random into a drawer or hang up clothes willy nilly. But honestly, getting dressed in the morning is hard enough; what to wear what to wear. If the closet is beautified the selection process is decidedly more pleasant.

Sounds simple. I will update you tomorrow on my progress, nay, my COMPLETION.

For Miles and Miles

To help me get back to the gym, because I need help in that area, I am doing this running thing with my friend at work. I invite all of you to play along.

What you need:

• A treadmill/elliptical that shows distance or a pedometer, if you prefer to run outside
• Running shoes
• Clothing (although I guess this could be optional)
• Time to run

What you do:

• Week 1 you run 10 miles -- you can break up the miles between elliptical or treadmill, and spread the 10 miles throughout the week; i.e. you don't have to do all miles in one sitting.
• Each additional week you add on one mile, working up to 32 miles per week, eventually
• For every mile you don't do, you pay $1.

I'm only up to 12 miles. Please don't let me die. I love to run, but I don't think I like death.

Midwinter Slump

This is absolutely the most god awful time of year. The excitement of the holidays has come and gone. The excitement of snow has also fled. Now, the days are tedious. The weather sucks ass. The drag of winter extends out into what feels like (and may as well be) eternity. It's no surprise that when people retire and become closer to death they move to some place sunny and pleasant, like Florida or California or Arizona. Who wants to waste the remaining years of their life shoveling snow? Or scraping off the windshield? Or just feeling fucking freezing down to the bone?

Not me. Not you either. Don't lie.

I am currently in the hibernation stage of my midwinter blues. I just want to stay in my house in my bed in blankets and sweaters. And within my house, I don't want to do anything but sleep and eat and watch tv -- with intermittent periods of reading. Some people might call this SAD. Literally. "Seasonal Affective Disorder" is a mood disorder which also has a catchy acronym. Do I think I have it? Who doesn't. (Maybe not snowboarders/skiiers -- they are freaks.) SAD affects most normal people to some degree or another; people who are otherwise mentally picture-perfect during the good time of the year. "Good" being summer or spring or even fall. Basically any time of the year that IS NOT January/February. At least in November and December you have the loveliness of the holidays to cheer you up and surround you with presents and friends and family. In January nothing is going on except MLK Jr Day. Not that this isn't a great holiday representation wise. It's just not a super-fantastic-wish-time kind of celebration.

I think I will maybe buy one of those UV lamps and see if that shakes me out of my hated slump. Go towards the light...

Driving Therapy

I have a family history of driving. If we went on vacation as a family, we drove. Sometimes, on weekends, we would all jump in the car and start driving around -- not really sure where we were going. We'd end up at a lake or in the mountains or at a lake in the mountains. One time Mom and I took a windy road up a mountain, only to become slightly stuck. I was super scared at the time, but we made it back down safe and sound and with a pocketful of hilarious memories. After my senior year the two of us went on a road trip to the west coast. We drove A LOT and it gave us a chance to talk and think and just be. My mom started to teach me to drive when I was about 13. I didn't just jump on the road; I began with backing the car out of the driveway and back in. Then, I progressed to driving on back roads on the way to and from Granny's house. I have been driving for longer than most people, which is what makes me a great driver (no tickets, no accidents -- minor parking lot incidents aside) and what makes me love to drive.Driving is therapeutic, especially at night. The quiet, dark landscape. A good song on the radio. Headlights beaming the way. Little traffic, little stopping. Just speed and constant movement -- that's the key. Whatever may be wrong -- something at work, something at home, something personal -- try going for a drive alone and in darkness. The rolling car allows for thoughts to become still. The mind stops pacing and becomes settled. It settles into, not necessarily "clarity," but peace.

Changes

Well, Tom's job is changing and he will have different days off than me for a little while (hopefully) if not permanently (hopefully not). So, I've got to think of some fun hobbies for me to start up on my days off whilst he's away at work so that I don't a) eat the house; b) sleep away the day; or c) spend all our money. Because, you see, I get incredibly bored without anything to do or anyone to do things with. Here are some of the things I'm thinking about taking up in hopes of continually bettering myself and learning a new skill.

• a painting class
• cello lessons
• piano lessons - again
• a ballet class
• pottery

Here are some of the downsides to any of these options.

• I don't know how to paint and am a horrible artist
• I do not own a cello and I can't really see how this skill set would produce anything worthwhile for quite some time
• I already know how to play the piano and I don't think my teeny tiny hands are going to grow in the next litte while
• I am way out of 'dance' shape -- like WAY
• I can't think of any negatives, per se, of pottery, just that it was last on the list because it was the last thing I thought of, which must mean something...

Despite the potential shortcomings of any of these choices, I must choose one. Because I must prevent overeating, overspending, and oversleeping, as aforementioned. Of course, maybe it would be best to just lose myself somewhere and write all day. Hmm, I hate it when things change and the inevitability of choice enters the equation once again. Routine can be so comforting - but I guess I should just kick my own ass into gear.

Chores

I hate undone projects around the house. Whether it's ongoing chores or a one-time thing, I can't stand seeing them lying around, mocking me. I have bursts of ambition (usually the day before I actually need to get the thing done) and when the day comes, I will look for any sort of distraction to keep me from doing it. And I really WANT to do them because I want the house to be nice, but I also want to have fun or take a nap or watch tv or go see a movie or go out to dinner...pretty much anything else. Oh well. Here are some things I'm trying to get done this weekend:

• Unpack books and put on bookshelves
• Take down Christmas tree and decorations
• Put up shelves in the garage and fill them with various crap
• Organize the mail
• Build the table we bought at Ikea a month ago
• Do the dishes
• Clean the bathroom
• Get a car wash

Hopefully nothing interesting (or uninteresting) will keep me from completion.

Sinking In

Our new apartment has a crazy hot water heater. I can fill up the entire bathtub with boiling hot relaxation. I love to dip my feet in, then slowly lower the rest of my person into the steaming water. My toes turn red and then eventually the rest of me is red as well; a lovely shade of pink, like I'm blossoming. I will lean my head back. I will read. I will put one foot out to regulate temperature. I will close my eyes and drift away. I will listen to the rustling echo of turned pages. I will watch myself become gooey like melted chocolate and lose my mind in written words.

Personal Grooming

Do you remember in 'Clueless' when Josh asks Cher "Do you know how many hours a day you spend grooming yourself?" This is an interesting question I am asking myself. A brief list of some things I do on some days:

1. apply makeup
2. shower
3. blow dry hair
4. brush hair
5. do hair (i.e. ponytail, curling, waving, you know 'doing')
6. paint nails
7. file nails
8. trim nails
9. get a pedicure
10. whiten teeth
11. brush teeth
12. wash face
13. moisturize using anti-aging cream
14. get dressed
15. put on lotion
16. shave various areas
17. pluck eyebrows
18. wear perfume
19. wear jewelry
20. sleep
21. pop zits
22. use nose strips
23. dye hair
24. trim hair
25. use hairthings like headbands/scarves
26. curl eyelashes
27. pumice heels

Doesn't that sound ridiculous? I mean, I don't do all that shit every day, but goddamn; that seems like an awful lot. I'll have to think of something I can cut out...maybe the sleep. Sometimes I hate being a high-maintenance low-maintenance-appearing female.