The following is a list of all entries from the Me! Me! It's All About ME! category.
I always have claimed to be a low maintenance type of gal. On any given day I can be out of the house within 20 minutes of waking up. Even at night, getting ready to go out it usually takes me less time than my girlfriends to get ready. I’m just efficient.
As I’ve aged, I’ve noticed having to spend more time on myself than I used to. Creams are needed to keep dryness away; my hair just doesn’t fall into place after air drying; and throwing on any combination of clothing doesn’t always work, thought needs to be put into it.
Until last night, I would still claim to be fairly low maintenance for a girl of my age. Hardly taking any time to get myself ready…
…Until last night, when CJ hopped in the shower with me. He caught me mid-wash – meaning my hair was shampooed, my body soaped and my face cleansed. I still had to shave my legs, exfoliate, and deep condition. He mentioned something about making this a sexy shower – I motioned towards the shaving cream on my legs and told him after I shower. He quickly shampooed, soaped and rinsed and hopped out.
After I got out of the shower, I dried myself and went to the bedroom. CJ was already in bed and reading. He mentioned something about making bedtime sexy and I told him after I finished.
I then brushed out my hair, applied blow dry cream and blew it dry. Then I applied toner, face cream, eye cream, lip chap, deodorant, body lotion, foot lotion, hand lotion and cuticle lotion. I picked out what I was going to wear the next day and ironed it. Then I took my pills (multivitamin, birth control, allergy), my asthma puffers and crawled into bed. Ready to get sexy.
CJ was asleep.
Mildly insulted I looked at the clock – an hour had passed since he first hopped in the shower with me. I couldn’t blame him for falling asleep, he has a hard job and it would have been mighty boring waiting for me to finish. I thought of what steps I could cut out of my nightly routine… nothing came to mind.
I don’t think I can call myself low maintenance anymore.
I keep trying to write a reflective post about the past year. I start and then I realize that all I can say about it is
It was awesome.
I got engaged, moved into my dream flat, started on the right career path and finally have a circle of friends I don’t hate.
Then I try to switch focus and write about what I hope 2010 will bring for me. I start again and realize that all I can say is
I want more awesome things to happen.
And they will – I’m getting married, gearing up for a busy time at work and have recently rekindled old friendships.
No really, that’s all I can say about the year without sounding like a lucky self-centred bitch who is rubbing her recent (prolonged) happiness in your face.
Happy New Years readers – I hope 2010 holds as much happiness as you deserve. Thanks for reading :)
I am the centre of the universe.
While I’ve always suspected that my awesomeness made the world turn, I now have absolute proof. I’m planning a wedding and the world revolves around me and my decisions. Type of dress, flavor of cake, amount of food, colours, schemes, themes, venues, etc. all comes down to one very simple question:
“Well, what does the bride want?”
I can see how easy it would be for someone to get so caught up in this that your relatives start calling you bridezilla behind your back. Especially when given an awesome venue (hello, rich relatives with their pretty country estate) and unlimited funds (thanks Daddy!) the world seems to open up and bow to your every command.
In theory, I like it. I like it a lot.
You see, I’m the type that could easily and happily take charge of many situations. When I ask you “Well what do you think?” or “Where do you want to go?” I’m only doing it because society has taught me that “We think this” and “We are doing that” is impolite. I always know where I want to eat. I always know where I want to go. I am a girl who knows.
That all being said, as much as I enjoy calling all the shots I’m also getting really sick of having to deal with the details. Thinking back, I’m not entirely sure I understood what a wedding was when I agreed to get married.
The day after I was engaged – officially engaged with a ring and whatnot because we had known for years we’d some day get married; and then I knew for a few months before he proposed that the engagement ring fund was at an adequate level for my extravagant tastes (Canadian extravagant is like American moderate – just so ya’ know) – I purchased a wedding planning book. This book details every.possible.detail. one might need for their wedding. It was during the first reading of this book I realized I wasn’t exactly bride material. As much as I like being the centre of attention and making decisions I hate all of these ridiculous traditions brides are supposed to sign up for. What’s worse is that EVERYONE knows the formula for a wedding and has been asking me repetitively about such things.
So in honor of this, I have decided to start a series (along with my regular incoherent rambling) detailing what bothers me about weddings.
Tag: Wedding Nonsense
I promise to post my first rant tomorrow.