09 December 2006

We have a winner

One Smarmy Mama is the carefully selected winner of the WTF contest from a few days ago. If you send me your address, I will gladly mail you a Somewhat Valuable Prize!! Woo hoo.

Second, (edited) please remember my new blog, True Employee Confessions email your stories to snackishblogATyahoo.com and/or send out some link love to get this thing rolling. I can't wait to read everyone's wacky work stories.

Third, Elizabeth of Table for Five has a great post on feeling like a grownup - or not.

I think she nails how so many of us feel - here we are, at our advanced age, and we still have some seemingly basic skills that we cannot seem to master. We can't save money. Or we can't put together a cute outfit. Or we can't seem to get anywhere on time. Or to find a job that satisfies us. Or to stick with a commitment to get in shape. It's always something.

I have a whole laundry list of these things, but tonight, because Mr Stapler is on his way over, I have been thinking about my lack of Feminine WilesTM. I just missed out on that whole thing.

When he said he was coming over, I brushed my teeth and then went on folding laundry. I thought about how some women would be doing makeup, fixing their hair, deciding on what to wear.

So I went in and put on some brown eyeliner and a tiny bit of eyeshadow. One of my makeup fears is that I don't want people to think I am wearing makeup. Because that would mean what? That I'm trying to look pretty? Well, yes! And I am a smart girl, not a pretty girl. Everyone must love me for my brain and my brain only. What am I, Barbie?

This logic has taken me to some stupid extremes that I hesitate to write about lest you realize how messed up in the head I actually am.

There was the time when crazy crazy stylist Billy Yamaguchi "feng shui'ed" my hair and decided, with all his assistants swarming around, that I needed to dye it a shade darker. At that point I had never dyed my hair.

So I promptly burst into hot, furious tears. I was embarassed in front of a boatload of hairstylists that someone would think I was so vain as to want to dye my hair. Like that is a new concept to them and that they would be shocked! shocked! that someone as unvain as me would stoop to such a thing.

What a ninny.

At least I got over that. Hair dye in a box is my best pal now. I buy it on sale in bulk to save a couple bucks.

But I still can't dress myself or make my hair work or pick out clothing to save my life. I am usually just content if my naughty bits and cellulite are covered, nothing has a big stain on it, and it isn't so terribly, awfully wrinkly.

I think I have to set my standards higher. Of course I have been saying that for years. And I am sitting here in my baggy ass jeans, waiting for Mr Stapler to arrive.

10 comments:

super des said...

Part of the reason you have gotten no link love is because today is Saturday and we were all gone, not at work, to write and complain about. What? Nevermind.

Anonymous said...

I'm like you, Suebob. No makeup.

And I just told my best friend, "Don't buy me anything for X-mas other than socks. I need socks. Nothing else. No pretties. No shinies."

I don't even brush my hair. And when I go on tv, I still wear my ragamuffin clothes with the holes. But hey, I'm a writer. I'm allowed to look lousy.

Momcani said...

But its not me you hate, right? Oh, and I don't know how to link with out a teenager on stand by, but no one reads me anyway, so.....

Hair dye is my best friend, but what I hate is when I do dye my hair, people will say to me "Oh, did you dye your hair?" Yes, I did, its clearly obvious, but you don't have to point it out! I want to preserve the illusion that my hair was red hot brown with copper sparks all along.

Anonymous said...

Oh. I missed the contest?

I'm so ready for True Employee Confessions. I've got TONS, since I just walked out of my job last month.

meno said...

I hate you too. So there!

The femiline wiles gene in our family must have skipped a generation, because i sure don't have it.

And those hairs that are a different color on my head? Those are not grey, those are "natural highlights."

Unknown said...

as someone who has HAIR DYE at the top of my grocery list, and some nice stains down my shirt, I hear you!

One thing I committed myself to this year was regular hair cuts. i.e. more than twice a year. it's a small thing, but it helps me stick with the sham that i am smi-puttogether;)

Anonymous said...

Amazing, isn't it? What we can get hung up on? I'm probably the least "put together person of a female type" that you would ever meet. (I just came in to trade my denim shirt for a tight weave flannel one so my arms won't itch tonight from the firewood that I am handling this afternoon.)

Never "got" the make-up thing, older than you and have several issues that I thought I would have gotten to outgrow by now. Interesting those words should fly off of my fingers, as one of my issues is that I cannot seem to stay seriously on a weight loss program. Get depressed, eat, walk by mirror, get depressed, eat. . . Not a good thing. Granted the chain saw using, firewood throwing hints should lead you to believe that I am not so obese as to actually cause a lot of interference in my life. But it causes major interference in my psyche and has for most of my life. Sometimes I can almost convince myself that I simply don't care, but the truth is that I routinely mortify myself. And I don't know that I'll ever get over it.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for the link love, Suebob. I've been away from the computer since Friday, but I'm putting True Employee Confessions in my next post, I promise!

Oh, and I've met Gingajoy, and she definitely looks "put together"!

Anonymous said...

*squee*

wow, suebob.......I've NEVER won anything on the internets in the life! the last time I won something was playing bingo with my grandma when I was 13.

:P

Suzanne said...

Yeah. I understand. I never, ever wear makeup or heels or anything like that. I also understand being mad at myself when I "violate" my standards of frumpiness in an effort to improve my appearance. But one thing I discovered about missing Feminine Wiles, something I also completely lack and then make worse with my Trucker's Mouth, is that some men are OK with that. My hubby and Mr. Stapler seem to be two fine examples who are perfectly OK with loving plain women. Why try and be someone you are not?

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