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My Profile
Retro-retrospection - 2008-10-06
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4:06 p.m. - 2003-06-24
Hoo Hoo! Look at me! I'm here BY MYSELF on the first afternoon of summer vacation. Got the a/c in my bedroom cranked up to "polar". As soon as I finish this I'm going into my room, lie down on my frosty bed, and watch "Mystery, Alaska". Am I the only one who thinks Russell Crowe should have that lump between his eyebrows removed? It's not a "Flawed people shouldn't be in movies" thing, it's just that that warty lump is REALLY distracting. Poor little Bud didn't make it. Too weak, too far gone. At least the poor baby didn't die under a truck wheel. It had been cleaned and fed as best we could feed it, and was loved and cuddled before it died. (Think I should put 'skunk cuddling' on my resume`?) Mike buried Bud this morning and put a wee marker stone over its grave. I'm sad, but knew this might happen. Looks like we'll be getting Wolf a dog after all. I did a horrible job with the fake tan on my legs. Big old smeary streaks and one of my ankle bones is way too dark. I was in a hurry and put the self-tanner on in sweeping swaths rather than my usual careful application method of slightly overlapping zones done in good light. So I'll have zebra legs for a few days until I can even it out. My mother used to tell a story on herself about fake tans. The summer she turned 13 she and a friend decided they looked way too childish and should look like the femme fatals they truly were. They bought some peroxide and a jug of QT (quick tan) at the drug store and proceeded to the ladies’ room at the bowling alley to do their make-over. Dousing their hair in peroxide and wrapping it up in shower caps the two friends then smeared themselves from head to foot with the QT. Not bothering to read the directions which clearly stated that the “tan” would show up in about 4 hours, they were disappointed that they were still white and did it again and again and again until the jug was empty. Then they rinsed their hair. It was lighter alright, it was WHITE. Their hair also felt funny, like crunchy cotton. No matter, at least one part of their make-over was success. Agreeing that the QT was a big gyp, they parted ways and went home to set their “beautiful” platinum blonde hair. The next morning my mother woke up to find several rollers had fallen off her head...with the hair still securely wrapped around them. As she felt the rest of the curlers, several more detached themselves and tumbled to the floor. She jumped out of bed to see what the hell was going on with her hair and started screaming. Her face was bright orange! She looked down and saw she was completely neon orange except for places like her knees and elbows, those were a much deeper orange, and the palms of her hands were black. Her screams brought my grandmother on the run. When Grandma saw what her daughter had done to herself she screamed too. And then started laughing. My mother’s head was nearly bald and what hair was left was dead white and sticking up in little tufts, her skin was a freakish orange, and her hands were black. My mother was tall and skinny and Grandma always said later that my mother looked like a humongus carrot. A screaming carrot at that. Took the rest of the summer for the QT to wear off and for my mother’s hair to grow out to a semi-decent length. Remember this was 1956. Annie Lennox and her platinum baldy were decades away. My mother spent that summer scrubbing herself with diluted Clorox, wearing a head scarf, and hiding from the neighbors. So much for her dream of instant brown skinned, blonde haired femme fatal. (*snicker*) Today’s Pick: “Island Girl” by Elton John
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