So I went to beauty school ...

Yeah, I did go to a local beauty school during a time when my agoraphobia wasn’t so bad and managed to graduate. It wasn’t easy since my panic attacks kicked back in towards the end of getting all the hours I needed. Guess you’d say I was a medium functioning agoraphobic at the time. Me, I’d say I was a high school drop-out looking for something to do with my life because the local school district didn’t offer home schooling for years 11 & 12 (I was home schooled from 8 - 10) and my parents weren’t the types to fight the board about it. I love my parents but they were always wusses when it came to dealing with anything like that. But, I’m SO lucky ‘cause no matter how screwed up I got (& still am) they were always there for me and my Mom still is.

Bet you’re wondering just how did I manage to go to beauty school but not to regular school? If not just skip this part, go ahead I won’t get mad. I truly believed there would be less bitchiness going to school with older women than being in high school with all the queens of mean. Little did I know just how bad females of any age can be. Don’t get me wrong there were a lot of really nice people but there were also those few that are never happy unless they can be the center of attention and if that means being mean then that’s what they’ll be. I spent more than a few days in the bathroom in tears but I managed to stick it out ‘cause it was never as bad as high school.

Ok, back to the reason I’m writing about beauty school, and no I never did get my license because I became completely housebound after graduating. It was that evil yet scared part of my brain realizing I’d have to travel a lot further than I was used to and have to take a LOT of tests in a place I’d never been to. I’m not good with places I don’t know. Rotten bitch brain just went all idiotic thinking she was saving me but just messed up my life even more. Guess Pinky-Brain decided after putting in almost 2 years at school with only minor anxiety why not start having major crazy panic attacks again. For the next year the only time I went out was when The DBF (that's darling boyfriend in case you didn't know and BTW he now is the DH!) came home from the Navy and when my Mom threatened no letters or phone calls from him if I didn’t go to church with her.

I know I’m back off track again. I’m bringing up beauty school because I cut and color my own hair. I honestly don’t trust anyone else to do it. The few times I went to a salon I ended up very (no that’s not strong enough) extremely unhappy. I even left one place in tears. Take for instance the time I wanted the Meg Ryan cut. You know the one from the 1990’s, it’s sometimes called a Mom cut now, but it’s still cute. The DH keeps asking me to get it again (hmmm... do you think he may have a secret crush on Meg?) but since I have a hard time cutting the back of my hair that short I won’t, plus I really like my French braids. Anyway, the girl used hair wax for the first time and really got carried away with it. Since it was in the 90’s outside the salon I’m sure you can imagine my slowly drooping hair. Plus it took me 3 days to get it all washed out. Then there was the time I went to a salon that took drop-ins (I’m not good with appointments, way too much stress). The woman did a decent cut but since she was also doing another customer with a perm she just handed me a blow dryer and brush and said, “ Well you know how you want it”. Another stylist realized what was going on when she finished her customer and insisted on taking over. No wonder the shop went out of business if they pulled that kind of shit. Then there were the stylists who looked at the pictures I took in (I always took a lot of pics just so they’d know exactly what I wanted) and they still gave me a different and much shorter haircut. I’m truly surprised we’re not a world of long haired women wearing our hair in buns and braids.

... and here I go again. I just thought you needed some back story ... no? ... sorry, but it does explain why I do my own hair, it’s not just the panic attacks. This time I promise to get on with the reason for this post. The really real reason I’m writing about hair is because I recently colored my hair and even though I knew, I really did know there was a very good chance it would happen, my pale blonde hair picked up the orangey gold base color of the dye. Yeah, I ended up with Trump orange hair. Not a look I wanted so I washed my hair with the strongest shampoo we had and it softened the color a bit but now it was a peachy color (you know the fake peach shade not the real peach fruit color... that would be even worse). I knew I had to wait at least 6 -7 days before I could either re-color or do a peroxide shampoo in hope of removing some more of the color without damaging my hair further. After 3 days of ignoring mirrors unless the room was a bit dark the DH let me know it wasn’t orange or even peach anymore. Guess the shampoo did the trick but talk about panic attacks! I don’t take any meds for them but I do tend to self medicate with food. I gained 3 pounds in 3 days over it.

 

I still don’t like the color but instead of trying to color over it I’m just living in French braids. I did stop wearing a hat outside to hide it. It’s a true light blonde with slight golden highlights now but I won’t be playing with that color again. I know with so many fun hair colors on the market my hair wouldn’t have been seen as that bad but I’m not one to try to attract attention. Even peach hair was too much for me and gave me panic attacks. Should I tell you about the time when I was in beauty school the hair color teacher turned my bleached hair pink, purple, blue, green, and peach in various sections from hair dye? No? Yeah I’m having heart palpations just remembering it because then it all started breaking off, so let’s just say bye for now I’m heading to my bathroom closet to make sure I have the right shade of hair color for my next dye job.

Hey, you don’t have tell Me I’m late posting!

OK, I know I need to apologize for not posting for so many weeks. Sorry, sorry, sorry (hope that’s enough, ‘cause groveling is hard on the knees). When I first started this blog I planned on posting at least once a week but I got off schedule when my husband took time off from work after some surgery. In case you’re wondering, which is so nice of you, he’s fine and finally back to work (YAY!!!!!!).

I found some of you were a bit (ok more than a bit, so thank you for caring) worried after my post on the s-word. Especially since I don’t have comments set up here and I seldom check the email that goes with this blog. Some of you were clever enough to figure it out so again thank you for sending all the caring and love. Now a graphic of hearts and flowers and kissing squirrels just for you ‘cause you all were so sweet.

No ‘hope you did it’ or ‘you suck, so do it’ crap from you sweet people. Thank you again. It’s nice to know not everyone out here is a big mean troll.

Now back to the time sucking husband and why it’s been way too long since my last post. Every time I thought of something to write about I’d head for pen & paper. Why you ask, because I couldn’t get to my computer. Before I even had a chance to write he’d be yelling for me to come see something on TV or on the computer. He has his own laptop but always seems to be on my desktop when I’d like to use it. Why? Because he’s a big pain in the ass computer hog and will even have both going at the same time.

He’s really bad about wanting me to see some actors on old TV shows in hope that I’d remember them. It makes me even more insane (and I really can’t afford to get much more). Since I’ve spent a lot of time housebound I’ve watched a lot of TV, especially old shows and movies. I LOVE old movies from the 1930’s, especially Joan Blondell and Barbara Stanwick movies! So since I’m the designated authority (guess it’s nice to be the know-it-all about something around here) on TV and movies I MUST come when called and I MUST help figure out who the actor is and what else the DH may have seen him in. He only resorts to looking them up on the computer if I can’t figure it out first or if he wants to know more about them. He also likes to play a game called ‘Who do they remind you of?’ which also can add to my craziness. That game also applies to people we see when we are out together. That may explain why I prefer to shop by myself ... hmmmm

So you ask, didn’t he ever go out? So why not write then. My, you are inquisitive! Because when he went out I used that time for cleaning and doing other stuff around here. Now you want to know why not do that when he’s at home? Do you really want to know or are you just being polite? Because it’s a bitch dusting and vacing with someone giving (un-) helpful tips. Like, why are you doing it that way? Wouldn’t it be easier to do my way (meaning him of course)? Because we all know the DH is mister know-it-all about everything (but TV and movies) so his way has to be better than the way I’ve been cleaning since I was a kid (‘cause my Mom hated to clean so she got me to start doing it as soon as I could drag a canister vac around and spray the pledge).

Whew I didn’t realize I had so much pent it anger about it . . . . . . . . . . . . . this is me slowly breathing in and out trying to calm down and DH don’t tell me I’m doing it wrong. I’ve just about had enough with being bossed around. Like I told him, you’re not my parents and since my Dad is gone only my Mom gets to and he looks nothing like her (thank goodness, how creepy would that be.... shudder) even though he used to put on shoes she left at the back door when he came to visit when we were still dating. It wasn’t anything weird like putting on heels, but yeah it’s weird him wearing her shoes. What it was all about was that he’d have his own tie shoes off, need to go out to his car, and it was easier to slide on her slip-on shoes than tie on his. I know it’s still weird.

I just realized I got totally grumpy at you for nothing at all. I’m going to have to apologize again but this time I have to skip the knee bit since I now have a cat on my lap. So here it goes, I made this graphic because I know it’s just want Andy here wants to say!

Andy's actually laying in the dog's bed (which they hate but won't make him move because their noses know just how dangerous cat nails are). I would never make him stand up and pose like that .... unless he really wanted to....  wonder if there are any cat treats around here?

Holidays or Helldays?

Want to know just how much I hate seeing a holiday coming up on the calendar? More than the idiots who get pets even though they live in rentals knowing there’s a possibility they’ll move to a place that won’t allow pets. So what do they do? They just drop them off at a local shelter or worse leave them in the empty house to starve. I only hope there’s a special place in hell for them, not special as in good but special as in being put in small animal crates to be ignored for all eternity unless someone wants to beat them.

Ok ... I’m fine ... I just needed to vent after seeing yet another story on the local news about some f-in’ idiot moving and leaving their large amount of pets behind. A few weeks ago it was horses. What the hell is wrong with these people? The fines aren’t large enough. They should go to jail and become someone’s “new friend”.

Gee, this post has really gotten off subject but what can I say ... I prefer animals to people. And I really prefer to spend my time with my pets rather than having to celebrate any and all holidays. My dogs and cat may be a bit peculiar but they cause less stress than when a holiday comes around.

Summer is not too bad, we pretty much beg off all picnics due to heat or my food issues. The DH will sometimes go to one of his friend’s picnics with out me. That’s ok since I don’t really know most of these people and they’re always further than I can travel anyway (yay!). He’ll also use that excuse to not go saying he doesn’t want to leave me alone. Yeah right, he knows I love to have the house and my old computer to myself. He has a newish laptop but always seems to be using my ancient desk top (all the while complaining how slow it is).

The worst time of year is right after Halloween. That’s when my Mom starts planning what we’re doing for Thanksgiving and Christmas. She lives with my brother and she often wants everyone to come here due to my travel problems. The stress of having so many people over gets to me so much I always end up sick so last year I decided to go their place for Christmas. It’s slightly out of my comfort zone but I had been there twice before (I know that’s pretty sad, huh?). I did a lot of visualizing and worked on my breathing, planned a few stops along the way to walk off the anxiety, and ta-da we made it. You want to know something really weird? I can’t remember most of the way there so I can’t drive myself. Do you think its Pinkybrain blocking it all so I won’t have to deal with it on my own? I’ve told you what an evil thing that part of my brain can be. Ooooo... maybe it’s not Pinkybrain maybe it’s the other good side trying to save me from all the stress.

Holidays used to be a lot more stressful. There was a time when we were first married that he’d go to his parents and I’d go to mine for any holidays. It was just easier since his Mom was pretty much a pain about wanting to celebrate at her house. We’d get a reprieve when one set would get an invite to go somewhere. The DH is an only child so his parents (his Mom) couldn’t (wouldn’t?) understand why we didn’t spend all the holidays with them. We finally grew some backbones (balls?) the second year of our marriage and divided up the holidays, switching the parents the next year. New Years and Valentines were for just us but his Mom had a habit of showing up on New Year’s Day even without her husband. Easter was at our place and all were invited. It took 4 years before the DH told her (after listening to her complain yet again) that if she’d invite my parents we’d all be at her place. Crazy that it took so long for her to go along with this and deal with her problem with my Mom. In case you’re wondering what she held against her, it was that she’s fat. I’m not going to say curvy cause that's how she describes herself.

The DH's parents are both gone (and my Dad, all 3 way too young) but I still get anxious and ready to become a hermit whenever any holiday that seems like I HAVE to celebrate comes along. Whether it’s just cooking or dragging out decorations I’m expected to put up by myself because his highness wants everything festive (just don’t expect him to put anything up or take it all down later) it all seems like too much aggravation.

So if any of you out there are planning on getting married think about the hassle of holidays now. Will you live close to both sets of parents, do your soon to be in-laws like you (we’ve all heard the horror stories about when they don’t, mine only kinda liked me), and would they all be willing to come to your place ? The DH’s Mom made us feel like we weren’t very good cooks but we both are (and she started making many of the things we made after tasting them). Think about it and sort it all out now. You need to know if you’re both ready to side with each other over your parents. I promise, it will make married life easier if you do. Of course you could always move far enough away so you don’t have to celebrate with them, unless ........ (insert sinister music here) they come to STAY with you. Bwaa ha ha ha.