Friday, March 22, 2013

Diva

Before I get into today's post, I'd like to give a couple of grateful shout-outs.  It's been a great blogging week over here, as I was mentioned on Dani Ryan's blog, Cloudy, with a Chance of Wine, with this post (Thank you, Dani!) and was offered the opportunity to guest post on Kim's blog, One Classy Motha, with this post.  (Thanks, Kim!)

These ladies are two of my faves, so I was honored to be a part of their blogs.  Head over and check them out if you haven't yet.  They are so talented, and I promise you won't be disappointed.

And now, for this week's post:


Diva
Recently, I was driving home from my best friend’s house after a much-needed visit.  She lives about 3 ½ hours away from me, and about an hour into my return trip, I had a sudden thought:

 

Holy shit, did I remember to grab my makeup bag from the bathroom sink?

 

I almost had a panic attack at the wheel of my car.  It wasn’t about the eyeshadow or the powder or the concealer—or even the expensive Proactiv that I keep safely zipped in my makeup bag.  Sure, this horseface is made a lot less offensive by that stuff, but that shit’s all replaceable. 

 

What I was worried about having left behind was my favorite pair of whisker-plucking tweezers, which would be a DISASTER for this face.

 

I groped blindly in the backseat of my car for my makeup bag, all the while feeling my heart flutter in my chest.  The thing is, there’s never been another pair of tweezers that can compete with this set for keeping my beard at bay.  I love them almost as much as I love my husband—and we all know that what I just said is a complete lie.  Because I love them much more than I love my husband.

 

As my stubby little sausage fingers felt all around for the bag, my mind wandered to another time that I had misplaced the same pair of tweezers.  The hubs and preschooler (back then only a toddler) and I had taken a trip to Atlanta to see some friends, and we’d taken the opportunity to knock out several birds with one stone by stopping in Illinois and Kentucky to see other sorely missed friends and family.

 

I realized somewhere along the way—in some dingy bathroom as I tried to pluck my chinny-chin-chin—that I had left my beloved tweezies behind.  And they could be anywhere along Interstate 24.  I had some calls to make.

 

The first was to my mother-in-law.  She’s a tough cookie, and I knew she wouldn’t have any sympathy if I acted like a pussy, so as I dialed, I put on my strongest face and steeled myself to keep it together. But as soon as she answered the phone, I burst into tears and sobbed so hard about my tweezers that I had to repeat myself at least 3 times.

 

“Let me get this straight,” she said gruffly.  “You’re missing a pair of tweezers?”

 

“Y-yes,” I hiccupped.

 

“And you want me to do what about it?”

 

“Can you ch-check and s-see if I left them in the bathroom?” I asked hopefully.

 

She was silent for a few moments on the other end of the line, as if she couldn’t believe I was this upset over a pair of damned tweezers.  I could hear the slot machine that she’d gotten for Christmas going off in the background, and I knew she was cursing my name as she sighed deeply, put out her ciggie, and set her coffee cup down to get up from her barstool at the counter and head to the bathroom to check for my tweezies.  But she just couldn’t help herself:  I heard her mutter diva—just loud enough that she could be sure I heard, of course—before setting the phone down.

 

Diva? 

 

I mean, it’s not like I was asking her to put all of the green M&M’s into a separate bowl or remove all of the slightly-oblongish pieces of rice from my sushi roll.  I wasn’t even asking for bottled water to be stocked in the refrigerator for my upcoming visit, for eff’s sake.

 

I was asking her to help me find my beard-thinning tweezers.  I could hardly imagine Jennifer Lopez making the same phone call to one of her several mothers-in-law.

 

But it didn’t matter, anyway.  She came back to the phone to inform me (a little too gleefully, I couldn’t help but notice) that no, my sweet, sweet tweezers were nowhere to be found.

 

That time, they happened to be in Kentucky next to our friend’s computer keyboard, as if I had been plucking in preparation for checking Facebook.  My friend, also a bit on the hairy side, understood the urgency of the situation and got them safely into the mail that very day.

 

And this time—oh, sweet relief, sweet, sweet relief, thank you Jesus—the tip of my index finger felt the smooth, plastic case of my makeup bag resting securely in the backseat of my shaggin’ wagon.  And I didn’t even care that the car next to me caught me sobbing with relief, making the sign of the cross over my zebra-printed bag.

 

This diva had her tweezers back.

29 comments:

  1. I'm exactly like that with my tweezers. I've had them for years and no one is allowed to walk away with them without my supervision. My kids wanted to play with them one day (don't ask, I don't know) and I was like HELL NO, my son tried to say what's the big deal you can get new ones....poor poor bastard, don't know shit. They are irreplaceable.

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    1. You are not kidding! That's what my hubs said in Atlanta. I made him stop at a store and I bought 3 new pairs. Not one of them did the trick. They just didn't have a tight enough grip! Haha

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    2. My 3yo daughter lost mine and didn't give a shit! So I took her snuggy bunny until she cared.

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  2. A good set of tweezers is hard to find! I'm still searching for ones that will create a bond like you and yours.

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    1. I wish I could tell you where I got these. They are so good that I won't even tarnish them with my eyebrow hairs. I have a different set for those. :)

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  3. As a fellow bearded woman, hell has no fury like me without my favorite tweezers. I so completely understand this post.

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    1. I didn't realize there were so many bearded ladies out there. I'm so happy to know I'm not the only one!!

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  4. Don't mess with ladies and their facial hair! LOL

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  5. IT'S ANOTHER THING WE HAVE!!!!

    I MUST have my special tweezers! They even sit next to me on my nightstand, sometimes I pluck in bed while drinking wine and watching TV (I'm a multitasker).

    A few months ago, Ana walked off with my best pair (the others require 6 attempts at the same hair before catching it)and lost them. she shrugged like it was no biggie! So I took her birthday money and bought a bright orange pair of $25 tweezers, the best on the market. She's not allowed anywhere near them.

    And thanks again for writing a hysterical post for my blog! Mwah!

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    1. YOU are hysterical. But dammit, now I want a pair of orange tweezies. I didn't even know they made them in orange!

      You're welcome--thanks for the opportunity! MWAH right back atcha, Sister from another Mister!

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  6. I had to buy another pair of tweezers when I found out my oldest was using mine to pluck ingrown ass hairs. Ok so they weren't right on his ass but close enough to put me off those tweezers. Now I leave them in the car - since that's where those chin hairs show up best.

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    1. OMG, the ingrown ass hairs made me laugh out loud! And you are SO right about the car being where those hair show up the best. When I travel with my family, the hubs always drives and I make sure that makeup bag is on the floorboard right next to me because I ALWAYS find whiskers when I'm in the car!

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  7. I pick with my perfectly-lengthed fingernails. I will obsess so hard over a hair that I won't hear my son say he loves me or my husband tell me the house is on fire. All I can think of is this hair on or around my chin. And why oh why are there so many of them? I am constantly checking for more and there always are. More. I will use tweezers, but only as a last resort when I can't focus on work because I'm so obsessed. I do think it's time for a new pair.

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    1. I KNOW! I swear it feels like I can pluck in the morning and there will be more in the evening...UGH.

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  8. Bahahahahaha! I once dropped my make-up bag IN THE TOILET at work and almost had a heart attack. The good news? You can boil metal tweezers to remove dirty toilet water. The rest had to be thrown away. :(

    Thanks SO MUCH for the shout out! I was so thrilled to tag along on your post idea!!!!

    xo

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    1. I probably would have just rinsed them in warm water before using them again--like the sunglasses that I once dropped in piss when I threw my head back laughing while using a bathroom stall during an outdoors, daytime festival. I mean, it was MY piss...and obviously there had been a few beers involved. :)

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  9. See now, some hot wax and tweezers are the only thing that keep me from looking like Chewbaca so to be without them ... noooooo. I feel ya.

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    1. I think we have a fine club of bearded ladies that we never even knew about! I'm proud to be a part of it! :)

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  10. Because you are obviously awesome, and have pinned my button to your page, I would LOVE to reciprocate! You can now find your trashy pin cluttering up the right-hand column of my site...naturally I mean this in only the most complimentary of ways. I'm proud to be one of your newly-minted skankstas! Woo-Hoo! Thanks again!

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  11. I love that you're willing to dish so honestly about your "beard" and obsession with your tweezers. I have an unnatural obsession with a perfect gray eyeliner that came from some CVS drugstore about 10 years ago and is whittled down to about an inch now. Every time I take it out to use it, I think twice and usually put it back so I can save it for times when it's really "important" to have the perfect gray eyeliner. Cuz it's important to wear the perfect eyeliner to all your playdates, amirite?
    But your tweezer obsession is much more entertaining!
    Hey, I was looking for your social media buttons bed/ I wanted to like your facebook page. Do you have one?

    T

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    1. I don't have one yet! I had a blog w/ a Facebook page and Twitter account for a long time, then decided to go anon. I just haven't gotten around to making a FB page or Twitter account for Trashy yet, but I need to get on that. Thanks so much for asking--and for reading!

      "Amirite"--so funny. You are really cracking me up today. Did I mention on the comment that I left that I had to read your Easter Bunny list to the hubs today? Even HE cracked a smile--and it's hard to get him to do that!

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  12. You are literally the funniest blogger! I love reading your stuff. When you find a good pair of tweezers, you have to do whatever it takes to hold onto them for dear life, or risk mourning them the rest of your hairy life!

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    1. Thank you so much! You know I love your blog, too--you are so honest and tackle some great issues!

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  13. Just found you through 'A Reluctant Mom' and cracking up. I have just one chin whisker- but it comes back in the same dadgum spot over and over- and I pick at it because I can't get it with my fingernails and can't find m tweezers (and am cheap and lazy and haven't bought more). So I currently have what appears to be a blemish but only I know is just a hair that I've picked at so badly I've made a sore. Ug.

    By the way, my blog is not trashy and inappropriate at all, but I really am, so trying to figure out how to put more of the real me there without losing it's 'inspirational' touch- I may have to start an anonymous one to counteract that one. :)

    ~Anita
    @ http://losingaustin.blogspot.com

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  14. The anonymous idea is a good one--it's very freeing, really. :)

    I know it's not a great question to ask a woman, but how old are you? I used to only have one or two little pesky whiskers that I could pull out with a fingernail but the older I got (I'm 35), the worse it got, until one day I woke up and BAM--full-blown beard. :)

    I'm going to go check out your blog right now. Thanks so much for reading!!

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  15. Hahahaha... so funny! Me too with that darned single whisker on my chin! No one knows about it yet including hubby. Shhh...

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    1. I WISH it was a single whisker on my chin! Even if your hubs finds out, let him know that it's aaaaall good...b/c it could be a hell of a lot worse! (TRUST ME)

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