Hey gurlfrands. No I did not hop in my spaceship and visit my people up in the outer realms. Though it may appear that I did just that due to my extended absence. I’M SORRY. I’ve had unexpected and exciting projects fall in my lap and I kinda sorta neglected everything else. Actually, one of the other projects is a blog. So in a way I was kinda cheating on my main squeeze, HereSheGoesAgain.com. BUT THAT DOES NOT MAKE CHEATING OKAY, KSTEW. AND, YES, I DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHY I CARE BUT I CARE AND YOU BROKE MY HEART WHEN YOU BROKE HIS AND IF HE NEEDS ME I’M HERE FOR HIM THAT’S ALL.
So if you didn’t already know, I have a sister, Emily. She is only 14 months older than me but like way way way cooler. She lives in New York City, works in fashion, is blonde and is generally a pretty great girl. But Emily, not unlike myself, is very career focused at this point in her life and therefore doesn’t have all the time in the world to call me and catch up on the phone for hours at end or even minutes. The whole I’m in LA and shes in New York and there’s a three hour time difference doesn’t really help either. So we weren’t the best communicators and therefore sisters for a while there.
OH AND DON’T YOU KNOW OUR MOTHER LET US KNOW IT. Missygurl, conventionally known as ‘Mom,’ was actually really sad that Emily and I weren’t talking to each other very often. She thought we were drifting apart and losing sight of how important it is to cherish our sisterhood (sistership?). AND YOU KNOW WHAT, MISSYGURL WAS RIGHT. THAT IS SOME SADNESS.
But here’s the thing. Just because Emily and I recognized we were drifting apart as sisters doesn’t mean we suddenly had free schedules and no time difference to deal with. Work was still present and last time I checked the whole EST/PST thing exists.
AND THEN IT HIT ME. A MOMENT OF GENIUS. A WAY TO STAY CONNECTED AND APPEASE MISSYGURL AND THEN PROBABLY EVEN MORE. My sister and I set up a place where we share daily “show me yours, I’ll show you mine” posts– everything from ‘What’s in your wallet?’ to ‘How do you make your bun full and fluffy?’ comparisons (PS– Emily actually hides a sponge inside of her bun. MIND BLOWN).
It is a way for us to peek into each others’ lives, get sisterly advice and stay connected. What I find even cooler is that with her being in NYC and me in LA, its a fun way for us to see the similarities and differences for workin’ gurls trying to “make it” in the Nation’s two largest cities.
SO ANYWAYS, on Fridays Emily and I always like to kick it old school and do a little thing we call ‘Flashback Fridays.’ Its the time for us to talk about the good old days. I was writing last weeks ‘Flashback Friday’ when it occured to me that I was neglecting/cheating on HereSheGoesAgain.
AS PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED AND I WONT GET INTO IT AGAIN BUT DUE TO RECENT EVENTS I SUDDENLY FIND MYSELF VERY ANTI-CHEATING. SO I’VE DECIDED TO SHARE THE LOVE AND POST LAST WEEK’S FLASHBACK FRIDAY HERE AS WELL AND PROMISE TO NOT EVER ABANDON YOU AGAIN.
W : LA : Flashback Friday
Who zones out while pulling a very cheaply made $3 razor across their skin? Me, of course. In a rush at the drug store and not willing to wait for the cashier to unlock a Venus Embrace from behind the bulletproof case that apparently razors are now kept in at drugstores…I decided to just grab what was easiest. Which happened to be a $3 off brand MENS razor. Sometimes I’m smart but other times I’m just plain genius.
This next move I file in the ‘sheer brilliance’ category. Speed showering so as not to miss the beginning of the US gymnastic team’s all around finals– which mind you I HAD already watched the highlight reel earlier in the day on YouTube so there was really NO POINT AT ALL for me to rush seeing as I ALREADY KNEW WHAT HAPPENED, ALREADY PATRIOTICALLY SHED TEARS OVER THE OUTCOME– I decided to forgo shaving cream and just give my legs a once over with my new $3 razor. Turned out badly. Like if Edward Scissorhands tried to caress my legs badly.
To add insult to injury (quite literally), I ignored the blood-letting and continued on to my armpits. Sorry if you get squirmish at the mention of shaving armpits because “its gross” but get over it because EVERYONE DOES IT AND IF YOU DON’T GUUUURL, FIX YO SELF. Anyway, I MUST HAVE REALLY NOT BEEN PAYING ATTENTION because my hairs (head hairs) had squiggled on down to armpit territory and I just kept on shaving and not giving enough of a damn to pay attention to the fact that I was shaving 2 inches of hair out of my armpit. I did not in fact miracle grow my armpits, nor is two inches of Tracy Chapman style armpit hair normal for me– so why I kept going for a good ten seconds despite seeing the hair falling to the floor IS BEYOND ME. So gone it was. Two inches off the bottom of a good chuck of hair on the right side of my head.
NOW REWIND: Remember that one time Ms. Elaine was babysitting us in the old house on East Bayou Parkway and I CONSCIOUSLY decided to become my own hairdresser. I hid under my bed with my plastic crayola scissors made miniature for children’s hands and freed myself of mostly all of the hair on, yes, the right side of my head. At least I’m consistent.
I then hid my former hair underneath my bed and proceeded to go about my business playing beanie baby zoo. I know, right? How very out of character for me to not immediately seek out any and all people within the vicinity so that I could show off my new look?
But that’s alright, I didn’t have to wait long for the people to come to me and I have you to thank for that, dearest sister. So completely wrapped up in the soap-opera-esque drama of my beanie baby zoo and thinking you were otherwise preoccupied making Spice Girl friendship bracelets, I didn’t even notice you were in my room, hovering over me, jaw dropped. But you were. You finally managed to make your presence known doing what any older sister who has just happened upon her younger sister in a completely embarrassing situation would do– you laughed.
“What?” I squeaked in my six year old voice– so high pitched only dogs and people under the age of 18 can hear.
But you don’t answer. Instead you turn on your heels and set out on a mission. I was too wrapped up in the unfolding dialogue between Squealer The Pink Pig and Princess Diana of Whales Comemorative Beanie Baby Bear to care about you and what I thought was a pressing matter in your Spice Girl bracelet agenda.
But then you return. And with Ms. Elaine. Don’t you remember? Her jaw also dropped. And then she began yelling at me. I vehemently denied any knowledge of any hair cutting situation in the house much less my own. But then the pressure got to me. Ms. Elaine could be just like Stabler in the interrogation room on Law and Order: SVU. AND I was SO determined not to break.
I eventually admitted to cutting the hair of one of my American Girl dolls– probably Samantha because I had just received the Mexican-American Josephine doll for Christmas and Caucasian American Girl dolls were so last Christmas so it was totally okay for me to give Samantha a snip.
Here’s the thing though. The shower armpit shaving incident cost me about 2 inches and a quarter of a handful of hair. Back in the day with my crayola children’s scissors I cut off about 6 inches and THREE HANDFULS of hair. American girl dolls are not blessed with hair of such divine thickness. So unless the lie I was trying to get out of was that I cut twenty two American Girls Dolls hairs, there was no way that hair belonged to any dollies. Foiled.
NOT TO MENTION I WAS QUITE OBVIOUSLY MISSING HAIR FROM THE RIGHT SIDE OF MY HEAD BUT LYING ABOUT IT ANYWAYS.
“What do you mean? My hair always looks like this.”
No, no it does not.
I don’t know what was worse me actually cutting off half of my hairs or me so adamantly denying and lying about cutting off half of my hairs? No, actually, you know what was the worst part? The way I looked. Sistergurl, you remember don’t you? It was so short yet so thick that it ended up just being a poofy immobile hair mushroom helmet thing. And you and I both know that Louisiana humidity DID NOT help the situation. I distinctly remember getting called Darth Vader Monday at school following me “cutting my American Girl doll’s hair.”
I don’t even want to rehash what happened when the truth came out at home. Missygurl and Don WERE. NOT. HAPPY.
Oh nostalgia. Childhood memories of you semi throwing me under the bus for your own entertainment. Don’t you worry though, now I just embarrass myself as a twenty three year old “grown” woman who can’t properly shave her armpit.
Okay, later gater. I just came up with a great Beanie Baby zoo plot line and now I’ve got miniature cages to build.