Your Monday Sucker

Is there anything that makes you feel less helpless than your car dying on you while driving? I would have to say no. When you press the gas and nothing happens, you pretty much feel like you have discovered you are stranded on a desert island (not to be confused with a dessert island, which would be heaven). There are usually two reactions to this kind of situation. 1. Panic and begin flailing, calling the first person on your speed dial to ask them what to do. 2. Panic and get angry at the car and begin yelling at it. I usually opt for #1 and my husband usually opts for #2. Being by myself this morning and on my way to work on a lovely Monday morning, I immediately call my husband (who by the way has already been at work for 2 hours). Now, I know that I am a grown up and I should be able to compose myself enough to call AAA but I'm panicked, so I call my husband. Which gives me a little bit of relief because he tells me this has happened to him before and I should wait a few minutes and try to start the car again. Unfortunately, this did not work and being in the left lane with no shoulder to pull off on made the situation a little more unnerving. Luckily, a good Samaritan pushed my car to the other side of the street where there was a shoulder.

Once the whole towing and whatnot was squared away, there came the mechanic part. Why do I feel like such a helpless girl when it comes to this stuff! Let's face it, I pretty much always feel like I'm getting screwed over when my car gets worked on, but when you're desperate, it is even worse. They could tell me just about anything and while I might not believe them, I don't know how to refute it. And when your car won't start, it's a lot harder to threaten to go somewhere for second opinion because that involves towing it again, which, let's be honest, not gonna happen. I like how everyone has brilliant suggestions about mechanics once the car is already fixed, but when do you ever look for a mechanic until you are desperate? The car will supposedly be fixed tomorrow. By the way, that will be $500. How come no matter what the problem is, it's $500? SUCKER!

Skin that Shines like a Diamond

So the other day, I bought make up. While this might not seem like a momentous occasion for a 28 year old woman to be buying make up, let me inform you that the last time I bought make up was for my wedding 4 years ago. And the only reason I went out and purchased make up was because my sister-in-law worked for Clinique and gave me some things she got for free so I could exchange them for what I wanted. I don't know if that really qualifies as "buying" make up, but I did actually have to shop for it. Wearing make-up has always been a mystery to me. I know when I was 12 I couldn't wait to wear make up, but by the time I got to high school, it was really more trouble that it was worth. Plus I was dancing for many hours after school and nothing is grosser than watching someone's flesh-colored sweat drip off their face. Eww, it looks like your face is melting. So I pretty much stopped using it except for "one night stands", where the make up goes on for a few hours for a special occasion or a performance. It's been more than 10 years since I put on make up on a daily basis and I would like to report that 3 days in a row I have put on foundation and blush. What can I say, I got a BOGO deal at CVS.

The real reason I have started wearing it is that I have suddenly regained the skin of a 13 year old. The deal is that since I went off the b.c. I have remembered why I went on the b.c. to begin with, to control the bumps on my face after a typical encounter with my mother. My freshman year in college, my mom came to visit me at school and mentioned that I might want to go to the dermatologist the next time I came home. Apparently, my 13 year old self was resurfacing through my skin. The reason I stopped using medications in college was that I am a redhead and my skin actually reflects the sunlight. I burn with about 20 minutes of sun exposure if I forget my sunscreen (which don't worry, I wear all the time). Adding topical stuff to my face with a warning that said, "may cause increased sensitivity to sunlight" was pretty much like rubbing Crisco on my skin. A walk to the mailbox might result in third degree burns. So my solution to this opportunity was to tell my mom that I heard from some of my friends that b.c. can make your acne better. I don't think that was the response she was looking for, but whatever, killing two birds with one stone and avoided a different awkward conversation with my mom. I'm happy to say that that method has worked until now, when I'm not taking them anymore. Aren't you supposed to grow out of these things? My husband suggested that once I get knocked up, the acne will go away, but I think that will seem like the least of my issues once I am preggers.