Aug 14, 2008

What's that on your face? Eye don't know.....

For most of the women reading this blog, we all know how eyebrows can shape a woman's face. For the most part we care that our eyebrows are groomed and in certain cases...penciled in correctly. All guys have been told by a woman at some point in their life "You have no idea what we go through to look good for you." They actually don't care when we say a man...I wouldn't either. (By the way, I sneeze consecutively when I pluck my left eyebrow and develop cold like symptoms during the activity of plucking. It's quick scary.)

This particular embarassing moment/story is about my if you are not interested in an aesthetics, then this story probably isn't for you.

Today, as a part of my anti-stress/Mandy's Makeover Madness routine, I went to the gym. I think that we have all seen the women at the gym that wear a shit load of make-up and we think why?
Well, I will be honest I wear powder because of my rosacea and I cannot have people staring at me like I am a burn victim because a)my face is naturally red and b) it becomes even more red once I start working I choose to conceal what I can.
In addition to also wearing powder, I draw in my eyebrows. I do this every single day of my life because my eyebrows are so sparse that I truly look like a mutation if I don't. So there....I wear make-up to the gym.

ANYWAY, now that that is out in the open, this morning I was rushing to get out the door to the gym so I threw on my powder but I was missing my eyebrow pencil. I opted to use one of my new light brown eyeliners to pencil those buggers in instead. So I was all penciled in and ready to go. I bundled up because I don't want anyone to see my body (even in the heat...I would rather sweat) threw on my sunglasses and off I went.

It's fucking hot out. I am sweating by the point I reach the gym. The rims of my sunglasses are rubbing against my newly put on eyebrows and forming beads of sweat but I didn't care.

Upon arrival at the gym I realized that I didn't have a hair elastic. Fuck. I thought "well, it's a sign and I should probably just go home." But the size of my ass in the mirror convinced me to stay. By the way I realize now that having 1.5 million inches of gym, covered in mirrors is a great marketing tactic. You realize how horrible you really look.

As I take off my sunglasses and ask the receptionist "Excuse me. Do you have an elastic I could borrow?" She had a huge smile on her face...and she kept smiling while looking for the elastic. I remember thinking to myself...either this girl gets paid 100k to sit behind this desk and is loving life or she remembers watching me make-out with a local at a bar. She finds the elastic and I run up the stairs to the change room.

Since our gym is under construction they have turned the studio FULL of mirrors (thank god) into our temporary change room. As I went to pull back my hair in the mirror I let out a "Oh Fuck!" As I noticed the colour (shit brown) from my eyebrow had rubbed down the side of my face and under my eyebrow...pretty much everywhere.

SO my conclusion is that yes, the receptionist was in fact laughing at me and it looks like I stuck the left side of my face in dog poo on the side walk.

Note to self. Use only eyebrow pencils for eyebrows and eyeliners for eye lids. It was really nice of that bitch behind the counter to tell me.

Aug 12, 2008

Word of the day

Whore (hooo-re)-Term to define a girl/woman at the bar who you see is skinnier than you and is getting all the attention, girl who is in other words "been around the block,"the girl you find out has been sleeping with your crush/boyfriend/husband and deserves to be kicked right in the uterus, girl who knowingly swoops in on yo' man, girl who generally wreaks of booze, wears a ton of make-up to compensate for her inner ugliness, women recently seen on an episode of Cops with make-up smeared all over the place telling the officer that she was "just getting a ride from the 7/11 with this kind gentleman", can be seen leaving shady motel rooms with a short skirt and a botched boob job with a shit load of cash in her purse, girl who you feel threatened by in general...All woman are guilty of calling another woman a whore cause they happen to look better than you.

My Good friend Merriam-Webster defines a whore as the below:
1: a woman who engages in sexual acts for money : prostitute; also : a promiscuous or immoral woman
2: a male who engages in sexual acts for money
3: a venal or unscrupulous person

I love the fact that men are whores in her eyes.

Aug 10, 2008

Who needs E Harmony Anyway?

As I was checking my empty email inbox just now, I noticed an ad for E Harmony at the top of the page. I am not going to lie, I spent an entire hour last month filling out the questionnaire on E Harmony to review "my free profile matches" (they don't tell you that you don't get the picture of the supposed love of your life at the end) Mother of God it takes a long time to complete...especially when you have to debate whether or not you are going to tell the truth or lie about certain personality; being stable.

In addition to losing an entire hour of my life that I will never get back, I happened to notice the membership fee. No thanks. I would rather spend that get sloshed at the bar and having a one night stand with "Mr. Right Now" and have an awkward morning goodbye...what was your name? and a farewell slap on the ass.

Anyway I am getting away from my point. I started thinking that if I were to take out a real classified ad in the paper (I figure that's where the most desperate go since we have the choice to be extremely picky when we do things electronically) what would it say....

"Perpetually single chubby Caucasian female, 27, desperate enough to take out ad, but not hopeless enough to invest in a litter of cats, seeks a man who enjoys to laugh but not when I take off my shirt, must have established career or trust fund as I am living off the government, must be a family man (which refers to loving his parents and siblings not his current baby mama and bastard children.) Must have drivers licence as my life is quite adventurous and ambulances are expensive. Well groomed including hair on back and private areas. Caring and open (open in the sense that you are communicative, not in an open relationship.) If I sound like the woman of your dreams, please feel free to contact me between 11am-2pm, otherwise I am sleeping. I look forward to meeting you Mr. Right!"

I don't think that's asking for too much do you?

Aug 9, 2008

The English Rowing Team

Let's get something straight...I am not going to be an Olympic correspondent of any kind since I am far too busy and uninterested, but this morning I just happened to witness the most glorious sight...The Great Britain rowing team...Sweet Merciful Jesus! They can spank me with their paddles anytime. Have you ladies seen these men? They could smell like B.O, cat litter, have a flatulence problem and eat crackers in bed and I still wouldn't kick any of them out of the bed.

It's a slow day for me...not much else going on besides the fact that I have to return the movie "Win a Date with Tad Hamilton" to the library.

I was planning on working on my burn outside today but since it is pissing rain, all I can do is wait until 11pm until the soft porn starts on the Showcase network. C'mon, don't tell me that you haven't been channel surfing and happen to catch some action on Showcase.

Hope you are all having a better weekend than me and you all have more money than I do.

Aug 8, 2008

Random fact of the day

Nutmeg is extremely poisonous if injected intravenously.

Quote of the day

"You know, like nunchuku skills, bow hunting skills, computer hacking skills... Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills." Napoleon Dynamite

Aug 6, 2008

Confessions of a garbage picker

To all of you who know me, you are aware that I spent 3 blissful summers picking up garbage at the overpriced Toronto Zoo.

I swore I would just keep this as an entry to my diary, as it is too erotic and steamy for most to handle. The following is based on a true story.

It was one steamy summer day, the smog was just thick enough so I couldn't see while driving. It was 6am and I had just arrived to work with my unwashed garbage stained khakis hanging off my sweaty uncomfortable body. I went into the woman's locker room (although at night I dreamt of going into the men's) I began to change in the most akward of ways so that no one could see my voluptuous body. My head and hands ravelled above my head in a human knot so that none of the other ladies could see my stomache. As I sat on the bench and slowly slipped on my steel toed boots I became aroused by the smell coming from everyone's lockers...Ape shit and hand cream, camel poo and Herbal Essance shampoo, fertilizer and body odour...Nothing stimulates the nasal cavity quite like these smells.

Eventually I saunter outside after trying to peek into the men's change room and to my surprise the Maintenance men had started early...their muscles glowing with beads of sweat as they each lift their arms to wave hello to me. I quickly debate whether or not to quickly raise my shirt but then realize that the window to the HR department is close by. The sweat on my brow thickens and my cheeks begin to flush.

As I walked into the garage full of men, tractors, flees and compost...A wave of calmness came over me, I knew it felt like home to me. After wasting about one full hour chatting up the garbage men and chain smoking I knew I should be on my way into the lustruous green bushes to do nothing...I mean pick up garbage. With each step on the pavement I wondered why God is making my inner thighs rub together on a daily basis and why he simutaneously gave me hyperhydrosis (the problem of sweating more than the average person.) But that didn't matter...I knew that I would have a day packed full of hiding in secret places so people would think that I was working, erotically dreaming of what it would be like to make out with a zoo keeper in a steaming pile of dung and chain smoking.

It was this one fateful day that I decided to venture toward an area that didn't seem to have as much garbage as the others...the Rhinoceros pavillion. As I gracefully limped due to the fact that my work boots were too big...I ended up at my destination were my life would change forever. The Rhinoceros pavillion.

In the distance while pretending I was working, I noticed the zoo keeper giving a Rhino a bath. I thought how nice it would be if I could have a bath but before I knew it, my sex eyes I had been flashing the zoo keeper paid off.

It was not long before I was behind the scenes feeding the Rhino carrots like it was our first date. I coyly accepted the invitation to pet the Rhino. As I stroked the Rhinos tough exterior I began to get a funny feeling inside as the Rhino began to moan and breathe deeply...To my amazement, I had given Mr. Rhino a boner. Yes, you read this correctly. I gave the Rhino an erection.

I was like a proud Momma that day, knowing that my talents are not limited to just mankind, but giant Rhinoceros. I was simply radiant the remainder of the day as I knew my purpose on earth was met.

Rick, my fellow garbage picker, that one was for you.

Quote of the day

"I'm gonna punch you in the ovary, that's what I'm gonna do. A straight shot. Right to the babymaker." Ron Burgundy-Anchorman

Aug 5, 2008

Word of the day

Douche Bag (doosh-bag)- Term that can be used to describe someone who is an arrogant son of a bitch, cut you off while driving, the guy that keeps raising the gas prices, the guy that asks for your number and then you see him holding hands with his 16 year old girlfriend, the person on the TTC who cleary sees that you are wearing a leg brace and limping and pretends he's sleeping in order for him not to give you his seat, or the guy that promises you diamonds and gets you cubic circonia.

Wikipedia says: The word can refer to the rinsing of any body cavity but usually applies to vaginal irrigation, rinsing of the vagina. A douche bag is a piece of equipment for douching: a bag for holding the water or fluid used in douching (the term douche bag can also be used as an insult; see above for slang uses). To avoid transferring intestinal bacteria into the vagina, the same bag must not be used for a vaginal douche and an enema.

Aug 4, 2008

The Gym

So I was at the gym this morning as part of a "feel good" routine that my shrink says will really help to relieve anxiety...and apparently you lose weight too if you move fast enough...blah, blah, blah...
As I climbed the stairs I thought that if my heart rate is already this working out really necessary? I battled with myself (internally of course) and stepped on to the treadmill. Of course I found the treadmill that was under a spot where the lightbulbs had completely burnt out and you wanna know why I chose this location?
a) wasn't wearing any make-up
b) the intense lighting of a gym could not highlight my areas of cellulite...yes I am a real woman...I have cellulite (Which I have now chosen to embrace with a plethora of anti-cellulite miracle creams)
c) happened to be the furthest treadmill away from all the skinny people because they like to see what they are doing apparently...but you know what? They can manage to run on the treadmill without people thinking they are having a coronary so they can just run their skinny little asses into the abyss or the celery growing farm...whatever.

Now there is one thing that really really irks me...I mean really rubs me the wrong way about
the gym...and this happened to me this morning which is what inspired me to write this...

I had finally gotten into a zone, I was jammin' to P Diddy (Puff Daddy, Daddy, Diddy P, Symbol..whatever you want to call him) and I decided you know what Nanners?.....You are going to going to try something completely new today and it's called "pushing yourself." So I was doing fine...goin' up hills, down hills, stopping for 15 minutes for some water...up the hill again, limping, down the hill, wishing I had a respirator...yadda yadda yadda....

SO...Along comes Big Momma....she was about twice my size and she hops on the machine right beside me. So she's sauntering along and I am secretly thinking "ha ha...I am waaaay faster than you and I have the added bonus of being smaller." my horrible thoughts about the woman beside me subsided...the bitch takes off running...actually sprinting I will have you know...kinda like the sprinting we will see in the upcoming Olympics. She must have been at McDonald's during the qualifying rounds.

I side glanced the bitch to see if I could catch what speed she was at but I wasn't able to see and I have a tendency to move in the direction that my eyes move so it poses a problem when running.

I couldn't fucking believe I am jiggling away thinking that my ass and my hips are going to look so good and then Baby Buluga comes out of no where and out does me? Hell no.
I have now decided to work out beside skinny people. You wanna know why?
At least the skinny people will look at me and be like " Awwwww.That's so cute that she's trying."

Quote of the day

"People go to casinos for the same reason they go on blind dates: hoping to hit the jackpot. But mostly, you just wind up broke or alone in a bar." - Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City

Aug 3, 2008

Quote of the day

"My point is...a penis when seen in the right context is the most wonderful sight for a woman. But when seen in the wrong context it's like a monster movie." Michael Scott-The Office