1. Ahem... Have you been outside? No, like I said...Do not thank me. I did it for all of us. I think it's clear that I frightened Mr. October into compliance. I know some of you didn't think I had it in me. I've told you before I can be sufficiently bold when the occasion calls for it. Like when the shelves are empty of TAB at the HEB or when Weegie entertains some wild idea about cavorting around with the skunks. We all have to speak up when we see things that are wrong.
So remember, don't thank me. Unless of course you've already purchased the gift card from Pottery Barn or loaded up your truck with TAB.
Far be it from me to seem ungrateful...
2. Speaking of shopping. I recently had a discussion with some girlfriends about their favorite make-up foundation. The votes were more or less evenly split between some of the really expensive brands purchased only at a department store or on-line, and the pretty cheap stuff you can just pick up yourself at the Wal-Marts or pharmacy-type establishments. I've been pretty determined to find some new foundation because, y'all... Something has happened to my skin. It has been in a decidedly-non rosey/youthful/firm state for a while now and it seems unable to find it's way out. I'm pretty sure that I could solve most of the world's major political and other problems if I could just discover the right base make-up. Well. I was in Wal-Mart yesterday and after I jogged by the pharmacy area holding my breath (look people, it's already flu season and people were coughing up a lung...) I determined that I would look for one of the foundation brands that someone had mentioned during our little discussion. I'm just sayin', but I suppose one of the little perks of those white-jacketed cosmetics experts at the department stores is that they test out the color shade and everything on your skin, because it became clear when I got home and tried out the shade I selected that just like paint in a 5 gallon can, it's easy to make a major mistake.
The shade you see through the pretty little make-up bottle is going to be considerably different when you slap it up on your living room wall - or whatever. I like the little spongy-roller thingy, and the easy application, but Sweet Mother of Pearl... You should see the color. I have a very light complexion. OK, I'm really drab and pale. I took about 20 minutes deciding between Buff Beige and Lighter Than You Wanna Be.
Last night before taking off my make-up and taking a bath I decided to try out the new stuff. Well. Evidently Buff Beige is for those lucky people with a more zombie-like skin tone because, MAJOR COLOR FAIL. I even frightened myself. I think I can salvage the $9.98 and use it as under-eye concealer/HIGHLIGHTER, or perhaps desert camouflage or something.
No harm. No foul.
But honestly if I have to take a couple more shots at the color-matching, I may as well go buy the high dollar stuff from one of the ladies. Oh, and also the blush, lip gloss and face firming exfoliating scrub/hydrating/anti-aging creme that she talks me into, Amen?
3. And now the really exciting stuff. I joined a gym. I did. I went in on Tuesday and had a little tour. The lady who showed me around was so nice and normal and not all buff and fit ( of course she wasn't not-buff and not-fit, but you know what I mean...) and what I saw was exciting and scary and made me very nervous- but a good nervous, you know. And anyway, I won't go through the whole tour/joining story but I know you all want to hear it, because, hello, REALLY WHAT COULD BE MORE EXCITING?
Anyway, I went yesterday for the very first time and you know what I was most nervous about? Using the lockers. Yep. If you're a longtime reader of this little blog you know I have some horror stories/situations in my personal history that involve lockers and combination locks and forgetting and books and some possible locker demon possession that have molded me into the very odd and highly paranoid person I am today.
I was very concerned that 1) I wouldn't be able to safely lock my stuff into the locker, and 2) I wouldn't be able to get my stuff out of the locker.
But. I'd by lying if I didn't admit to a little smidge of pride in being able to say that I conquered the whole locker thing without so much as a hitch.
The only real problem came in when I was on the treadmill and couldn't understand why several very slim and trim and fit and perky ladies were giving me the eye. Were they intimidated by my very obvious physical superiority or maybe the big grease stain on the front of my gray workout shirt? I think I stumbled upon the answer when I realized that my earphones were not completely plugged in the little hole all the way and the volume on my treadmill's fancy personal TV was blaring the Food Channel's Pat and Gina Neely explaining how to correctly season a pork butt.
I guess after I thought about it a while it was somewhat ironic. But no less tragically life-altering.
Today I'm trying Zumba. I'll let you know how it all goes down.