Painful Beauty/Grooming Activities You’ll Probably Regret for Weeks. Okay Fine. Painful Grooming Activities I Regret.

Okay. Maybe I’m alone in this. Maybe I’m like…the worst girl ever. I mean, I don’t typically wear makeup. I think yoga pants are pants. As long as my hair isn’t going to freeze solid, I avoid blow drying my hair and live with it in the messy updo (not because it’s cute, but because I’m lazy).

So when I do these things, I am trying to be a girl, and screw up royally. Regularly. Basically, if it’s on the following list, I’ve done it more than once. Probably more than 10 times. And recently.

Over-clipping my nails

I’m going to spare you the image of my Flinstoes (Fred Flinstone toes) and just explain that sometimes, I feel the need to clip the shit out of my toenails. And somehow they end up WAY more clipped than should be humanly possible. Mostly, to the point of pain. And possibly over-clipped cuticles. And requiring my Mickey Mouse Band-Aids. Thankfully, the last time I did this was a little over a week ago, so by next week, I’ll be okay to go get a pre-Florida pedicure.

Shaving just a bit too quickly

You know how it is in winter…when I haven’t shaved in a while…And I certainly haven’t paid attention to those unseen areas…the upper thighs…the random long hairs on my toes…and finally there’s that one day I decide, Dammit. I’ve had enough. And I just want to get it all done. And I’m rapidly moving the blade all over my legs, arms (yes, I shave my arms), hands and feet, because God-forbid we aren’t damn near hairless to impress society…And then I nick the ever-living shit out of my toe, or the back of my thigh, or wrist, or that area right by my Achilles. And it’s not super painful at first, but I’m bleeding like a stuck pig and require Band-Aids. Again.

Cut arm and finger

Cutting my own bangs

Thankfully, this one is a thing of the past for me, but with the popularity of bangs in general these days, I thought it was relevant. Plus, I KNOW you’re dying to go back in time and read my somewhat sad, yet slightly funny childhood bang-cutting experience. It’s okay to laugh. But kids are mean. Anyways, cutting my bangs was something I did from a young age…basically since my mom nicked my forehead with the super sharp bang scissors…And almost every time, I would cut them just a smidge too short. And have to deal with it until they grew out. Can I just say how glad I am to not have bangs?

A Bad Dye Job

You guys, the first time I went red, I seriously had to re-do it (And by re-do it, I mean have my sister come over to my best friend’s apartment, where I was apartment-sitting, and re-dye my hair for me.) It was that bad. Chunks of brown hair had clearly been missed, and the red was not looking too adorable. Eventually, we got it right, but it definitely wasn’t as easy as going blonde…These days I don’t trust myself enough to try…I have a tendency to destroy bathrooms when I dye my hair

Blog Friends, do you do any of these? Do you do something else that I didn’t mention? Tell me so I don’t feel all alone over here!

 

 

 

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Monday Memories: Because Polish Girls Have Some Crazy Arm Hair…

Today, thanks to Lily from It’s a Dome Life, our Monday Memory is all about Beauty Gone Painful. I’ve already told you about that one time I accidentally cut a giant bald spot in my hair (Seriously, go read that) And there was the time that I was visiting my aunt and we took some SERIOUS glamour shots…This one is all about unpleasant hair.

I’m Polish. (And Irish. And English. And German. And Jewish-ish. And probably a little bit Scottish.)

So regardless of the blond hair as a child, the brownish hair speckled with gray hiding under the red dye, I have some black as black can be arm hair. Or I would if I didn’t shave it all off weekly.

Yep. I shave my arm hair. But long before I thought to just…you know…shave it all off…my little sister and I invested in NADS Australian no-heat wax. With money from my grandfather.

We thought that it would be an excellent way to get rid of that pesky arm hair. And so we lathered ourselves up, and let that shit dry. The we let-er-rip. Holy fucking crap, did that shit hurt. It was like trying to get gum out of your hair and pulling your hair and stabbing your skin and burning your skin (no-heat wax or not) all at once. And it didn’t even do a good job. So what did we do? We tried our legs. And that didn’t work at all because apparently your hair has to be ridiculously long for it to work.

The lesson? Even if it leaves the occasional need for Mickey Mouse Band-Aids…Bust out the razor.

Band-Aids

Check out my Monday Memory partners in crime, as they tell you all about their beauty mishaps!

Monday Memories
Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!