|Sophia Vergara Vs. Lucille Ball|
1. Sexy hair or concussion?
Let's start with what occurred yesterday, which got me thinking about all this. I was working on an upcoming column at my desk when my significant other walked into the room. I thought it would look super sexy if I flipped my head and hair forward, whipped it back so it looked all full and luxurious, then gave him a sultry look.
Instead, when I flipped my head forward I hit it on the desk. He yells "Oh my God are you okay!" I start laughing despite my throbbing head.
2. Did I just give myself crabs?
Once upon a time a long time ago in a suburban cul-de-sac in the Lake Minnetonka community, there was a woman who decided to do her own landscaping, down there. This is before I discovered how much better it is to wax than shave. There are reasons why people go to school to learn how to do this.
After spending a creative 15 minutes in the shower with a razor and soap (I know horrible mistake!), I thought I had done a pretty good job cleaning up the baby making area. I was going to surprise the Stud Muffin with my new look, but by the time he got home the itching and irritation was so bad, I thought I had somehow given myself crabs.
It was three days before I found the right mix of hydrocortisone and aloe to calm things down enough to not be scratching at my crotch in public. Lesson learned, a professional waxer is your friend.
3. Come here often?
So I'm sitting in my car parked at the longest stoplight in the Western Suburbs. I was twirling my gum around my left finger as I often do when I'm trying to do math in my head. I think I was trying to figure out if I was having ovulation pains or gas pains, so I was counting back the days from the first day of my last period.
Out of the corner of my eye I notice my favorite kind of driver on my left, the tall dark and handsome kind, and in a BMW convertible to boot. I do the classic touch my hair and brush it out of my face on my left side, using my left hand, turning my head slightly to get a better look, maybe even give him a little eyebrow raise and smile.
What ended up happening is the damn gum was attached to my finger still, so I of course ended up tangling into my long hair. I should have just quietly sat there pretending to lean on my hand, but no. I yell "Shit" and start pulling at my hair, which only attached the gum more firmly. Mr. tall, dark and handsome gave me a confused look before the light finally turned green, and he drove off. I'm sure with the way I was clawing at my own head I looked like a crazed woman doing battle with a headful of lice.
Personally I think being sexy has more to do with being comfortable with yourself, Lucile Ball moments and all. At 22 these things would have mortified me. At 42, I know that things get better with practice.