Adventures in Womanhood

I was going to write about my trip to the ER on Sunday night.

I was going to tell you all about how my uterus decided to hate me and bring forth a tsunami of wrongness.

I was going to tell you about my amazingly kick ass friend, Rachel, who drove me to the ER and sat with me watching Snapped, waiting several hours for the nurses and doctor to come in and check me out.

I was even going to tell you about the twelve year old-looking "man" who walked in and scared me half to death by making me think he was my doctor (he was the insurance guy--WHEW!).

But I won't. No one wants to read about that.

Instead, I'll share the video below (stolen from Project Rungay). If you watch Project Runway, you'll appreciate it. If not...well, it's fantastic anyway.

Move in day approacheth and other weird shit

We close on our new house today!

I called the movers yesterday to set up a time to get the big stuff over there Monday, the 18th. I bought my new washer and dryer on Saturday--decided to go with the LG front loaders--on sale plus 0% financing did the trick. I bought our dining room table (well, really "eat in kitchen" table) and chairs on Sunday. Those were half off at Target--hooray!

All the utilities have been called, the cable/broadband guy is coming on Friday as are the storage unit people. I have a busy weekend of unloading ahead of me. In a way I don't even want to stupid units back (save for some photos and books). It's pretty interesting how much stuff we have done without since January. I plan on having a garage sale before the end of the summer.

And then there is all the painting I am facing. I actually enjoy painting. I didn't when we first bought our current house, and it showed. For some reason, in the last 6 1/2 years my painting skills improved and the fresh coat we through on there over the New Year's Eve holiday looks 100% better than the first.

I have to get the living room and all three bedrooms painted before the movers bring all of our shit over there. The kitchen, bathroom and basement can wait for another day.

We're also having the front of the house landscaped. There is a grading issue right up next to the house, and needs to be taken care of. Luckily we have a friend who happens to be a landscaper and will do it for a lot less than having to hire a bunch of strangers.

Oh, and I have to have some minor surgery on the 22nd.

I won't go into minute detail about what is up, but let's just say there are some unwelcome guests hanging out in my uterus and they are aren't things that will eventually be asking me to fill their sippy cups 87,000 times a day.

It's not the most convenient time for this to go down, but what can ya' do? The best part of all of this is I get to channel Jerri Blank every time I tell someone about it, "I have to go get my uterus scraped." Classic.

Don't worry. I'll be sure to blog all about it. Aren't you excited?

Things to know before going to the salon

1. Don't be late.

Stylists work on a schedule. If one person is late, it can throw off the rest of their day, and that makes them cranky. Do you want a cranky person holding scissors an inch from your face? Didn't think so.

If you are going to be late, call ahead and let him/her know so at least they are prepared. But don't make it a habit or you may find they aren't able to get you in as easily as before.

2. Tip.

It doesn't have to be an extravagant amount, but leave something. Most stylists work on commission so they aren't seeing the entirety of what you pay for hair services. Add chemical fees and taxes to the mix and the amount the stylist sees is even less.

3. If you love your hair, tell your friends.

No amount of commercials or "specials" can replace word of mouth advertising. Stylists thrive on it to build their clientele. There is no greater compliment to your Hair Bitch than to have a bunch of people come in on another of his/her clients' recommendation.

4. Don't be an asshole.

Seems simple enough, right? Apparently not by the herds of fucktards filling appointment books everywhere.

For example, don't say you want a change, but refuse to change your hair.

"Um, I'd like a new look but don't cut any length off, and NO bangs. I don't want any layers in it either."

And that's a direct quote.

Don't buy professional products from the grocery store. It cuts into their ever-shrinking bottom line. The products are usually expired or possibly tampered with, and you're paying more than you would at the salon anyway.

Don't tell your six month pregnant stylist she is getting huge. (Sorry, had to throw that one in. It really stung.)

5. Don't cut your own hair.

Every woman I know snips at her bangs--no big--but chopping away at any other part of the haircut is asking for trouble.

I once had a client who cut the whole front of her hair after every haircut, then had the nerve to come in and blame me for the style not working. She thought I wouldn't know. I knew.

I knew another woman who bought herself some thinning shears(comb-like scissors used by stylists to thin out or create texture in a haircut)at the grocery store and hacked her hair into such a mess that she ended up with bald spots.

6. Don't dump your baggage at every appointment.

There's nothing wrong with taking your stylist into your confidence and sharing. Sometimes a hair appointment turns into more of a therapy session, and that's alright.

Just try not to unload every single time you see him/her. We have our own problems to deal with. We just have to pretend every thing's fan-fucking-tastic at work in order to deal with the public.

7. Unless they are getting a haircut too, leave your kids at home.

Getting your hair done should be a relaxing thing. I don't know many people who can relax with their 2 year old running around in the midst of hot curling irons, sharp scissors and potty-mouthed Hair Bitches.

If you absolutely must bring them, keep them in check. The receptionist is not paid to be a babysitter, and trust me--you don't want her babysitting your kids anyway.

8. Waxing etiquette:

I never braved waxing anything below the neckline, but heard many a tale from former coworkers.

--Take a shower beforehand.
--They've seen it ALL, so don't be embarrassed. Pretend you are at the doctor.
--Don't discuss your anal wart scars during a Brazilian bikini wax (I wish I were kidding, but this actually happened to a girl I worked with).
--Don't bring your boyfriend to a bikini wax (Again, true story. Turned out it was the waxee that liked to have her boyfriend watch her get her hoohaa fur ripped out).

9. Be nice to the receptionist.

He/She is the one who takes your appointment. Their weapon is an eraser (or the delete key) and they're not afraid to use it.

Get in good with the receptionist and you've got yourself an "in".


10. Trust your stylist.

If he/she tells you those chunky yellow Spice Girl-looking stripes won't work, believe them. If he/she tells you it's time to lay off the chemicals for while, believe them. If you're told that they can't get you in for eight weeks, you probably have a really amazing stylist or ....see #1 on this list.


Questions? I'm all ears.

Dream a little dream

When I went to ISU, I used Health Services for all my medical needs. The doctors were friendly and the facility was pretty nice as far as health clinics go. I was happy to have the place available, especially for my yearly lady bits exam.

The only qualm I had with the place was their choice of decor in the exam room. Among the magazines, cheesy "successories" posters and STD pamphlets was a poster. This poster was not on the wall, but rather strategically placed above the exam table. It was unavoidable, right there on the ceiling.

It was a Tiger Beat-esque poster of the Coreys (yes, plural).

Now, had I gone to college in the late 80's, this would have made a little bit more sense. This was the early 90's. Mr. Feldman and Mr. Haim were well past their sell by date at this point.

What was the purpose of having anything on the ceiling, let alone a dated poster of child actors? Comic relief or something way creepier?

I can only assume whoever put the poster up there thought college co-eds (still) found the Coreys attractive. Why would they want someone getting a very personal medical procedure to be turned on? Why would I want to think about washed-actors while someone had their hand up my snatch?

That's what parties were for.