Archive for the ‘getting old’ Category

30
Apr

begging for opinions

Posted by Sandi in Random, getting old

I have been trying to go blonde again.  It's been a difficult process to say the least.  Anything lighter than almost black, turns my hair red/orange. 

While Brandon has been away, I have been lightening up.  My stylist thinks this is fine for now.  "Let your hair settle down and see you in a month."  I, on the other hand, am freaking out.  I think my hair looks orange.  I think it matches my skin tone and washes me out.  I don't know what to do!! I have an appointment tomorrow.  Should I go bleach blonde and destroy my hair, or give up the fight and dye it dark again? 

Hadley took these this morning.  Please share your opinions. 

91 Comments »
16
Mar

You’re so vain…. You probably think this blog is about you, don’t you?

I am in the market for some upgrades.

-I am finally ready to get the new boobs I have had my eyes on for a few years now.

-I want to get my butt lifted back up to where it belongs.

-I want my crotch cinched up a bit so you can't tell where Shaylee grabbed the inside of my vagina and hung on while she entered the world. 

-a tummy tuck would be fabulous.

-I am also looking at the brazilian butt augmentation in the process.  They will suck the fat out of the rolls on my belly and stick the fat in my fanny.   …two birds with one stone in my opinion.  No more fat rolls and little junk in the trunk making my entire body more pleasing to the eye.  

Sounds good right?

Here are my issues-

I am a wuss when it comes to surgery.  I hate going under the knife, I am always sure I will never wake up, I always puke my guts out when I do, and finally, the guilt of having to be taken care of…. SUCKS!  

Pain pills and Sandi DO NOT MIX!  For as long as I can remember I have had "ALLERGIC TO DEMEROL" stamped on top of all my medical charts. When I was a young one, I had major surgery to correct an inward rotation of my legs.  (pigeon toed, but the entire leg.) When I was in the hospital, they were pumping me so full of demerol that I took a MAJOR TRIP and still have VIVID memories of that week.  

There was a camel in my hospital room.  

My brothers were in the glass IV bottle.  They would knock and wave and float around in the saline on air mattresses. They were having much more fun than I.  

I was 100% positive I was Mary, from the nursery rhyme "Mary Had A Little Lamb."  I didn't have a lamb in the room, I had a camel, but I was laying on a lambskin pad to prevent bedsores.   That could make sense.    

Flash forward to 2005 when I got breast implants.  The pain pills I was popping had the exact same effect as the demerol.  My ironing board came to life.  It was like something you would see in Beauty and the Beast.  My closet door had to be shut the entire day or the ironing board would walk out and talk to me.   I had a pet goldfish. (her name happened to be Dorothy. She was visiting from Elmo's World.)   I saw spiders, most of them talked.  I couldn't remember my kids' names.  I thought Shaylee was my sister. I thought I owned a beauty supply store….  I was a head case.  My older children loved every minute of it and would come in to sit with me in hopes of hearing or seeing something off the wall.  Sadly, they were rarely disappointed, and to this day, they love to talk about the time that mom got new boobs….

Side note to this post- Hunter has the exact same problem and without spilling all his private stuff on the internet, he was hallucinating like a crazy person after one Tylenol Codine.  FRIGHTENING!  

If I can toughen up and stop being such a pansy, there are indeed some pros to this cosmetic surgery.

For example-

I had this awful vein in my leg for 14 years.  Last July, I finally felt brave enough to get it fixed.  EVERYDAY I wonder why in the hell I waited so long to fix that ugly thing.  I dealt with YEARS of self consciousness at the beach.  I never wore cute skirts or shorts because who wants to look at purple bulging vein?  I hated that thing!   I wish I had been brave enough to do something about it years ago because at thirty eight, do I have any business wearing cute mini skirts?  Yeah, I didn't think so.

You have heard me say similar things about my teeth.  I love my smile now, I don't cringe at every picture I see of myself anymore.  I am happy to give a cheesy grin whenever you want me to.  I should have fixed my teeth at 25. 

The other thing I have always hated and been so self conscious about is my skin.  If I could have asked for anything, it would have been a clear complexion. I tried everything under the sun, both prescription and over the counter, my entire life and NOTHING WORKED.  I used to fantasize about a skin transplant.  I figured in the end if you are blessed with a "skinny gene" and a high metabolism, God has to curse you with something else, and for me, it was ZITS and the LOVE to pick them.   I think my skin may have looked tons better if I could have just left it the hell alone, but picking was a part of my day. I'd wash my face and plant my butt in front of a 5X magnifiying mirror and proceed to pick anything and everything I could see until I would bleed.  That was my routine.  But not anymore!!

For thirteen weeks I have been taking Accutane.  This is much like the vein in my leg…. WHY IN THE HELL DIDN'T I DO THIS 20 YEARS AGO???  WHY?  My skin is now lovely.  I haven't had a ZIT to pick for 10 weeks.  I wash my face and go to bed.  I don't have to touch up every picture that is on the camera.  I don't have to cover up with makeup.  I don't even have to wear makeup if I don't want to.  A little sunscreen is all.   I am over the moon with the results!  Why did I waste so many years of my life looking like a monster when I could have done this years ago and been happy with my skin?  

I think that is where I am right now. Wondering why I didn't do this stuff sooner and since I still have things that I am not happy about, I want to fix them. The things that I have fixed in the past have turned out better than I expected. So I want to fix everything.  My initial list is long and extravagant and expensive and if it didn't require multiple BIG SCARY SCARS, and wasn't soooo invasive, and came for free, I might consider doing everything.  

The butt stuff, I think I can accomplish with a little exercise.   That same exercise might diminish the fat rolls hanging over my waist band.  Wish me luck.  You all know how good I am at working out.

BUT my privates, all of them, do need help.  And no amount of squeezing, tightening, running, or relaxing can do a damn thing about any of them.

Tomorrow I am visiting this office for a crotch consult. The very second I have disposable income, I am going to have my girly bits returned back to a pre-vaginal-delivery state.  The moment I heel from that little procedure, I am going to move up to my chest because I HAVE to get rid of these bags of water under my skin.  I am thanking the good Lord above for the invention of silicone. I can't wait to have squishy boobs instead of crinkly ones.

I will keep you all posted as I try and age gracefully.  

PS- I just had Brandon read through this post and asked, "will people flip their lids at this?"  

To which he replied, "Oh yeah."

According to Brandon, my critics are going to flip for one of the following reasons. 1) I am setting a bad example for my children. 2) They will be jealous. 3) any person that doesn't agree with cosmetic surgery will have a problem with this entire post. and finally 4) I attract my share of crazy readers that always look at the most negative side of anything I write and jump my shit whenever they can.  

I am geared up and ready.

I'm sure one of you may even decide that I am doing this entirely for the hallucinogenics…  I'll be honest, after the last few weeks, I won't argue too harshly with you.  I am ready for a trip….  and how nice will it be to wake up with a brand new vagina?   YAY ME!  

66 Comments »
29
May

directions are merely suggestions

Posted by Sandi in daily smut, getting old

WARNING- RATED TMI

 

Are you all tired of hearing me bitch about getting old?  Too damn bad.  I hate it. 

 

Brandon gave me a little treatment the other night while I was in the tub.  It was a derma-scrape.  What?  You’ve never heard of that?  Fine, I’ll call it what it is, “A shave.”    Yes, you heard me correctly. It wasn’t anywhere fun either. (remember I got that fun area all zapped off).  I made Brandon shave my face.  I am growing a full on beard.  Is this NORMAL? 

 

I’ve been spending more time waxing and tweezing than anything else.  I am full on obsessed about this fluff on my face.  Just so you can have a good visual, I am not growing whiskers.  There is nothing course, or dark, coming out of my cheeks, but the amount of downy fine air is thickening to winter coat proportions.  It’s blowing in the wind and it’s preventing my makeup from reaching my actual skin.  I was desperate people.  I threw back a glass of wine, grabbed the shaving cream, and hollered for Brandon.  When I woke up the next morning, my face felt like Ellie’s butt, baby soft and kissable.  I can’t keep my hands off my cheeks.  I’m sure I will experience a full on breakout by the time I get to Asheville.

 

I have been self medicating through this aging shit. I have been trying to turn back the hands of time with my magic progesterone cream.  It’s not having the effects I was hoping it would have, but I do know that it’s doing something. 

 

When I ordered the first box, I was in Utah and desperate to feel good.  I wanted to look, and feel, like a 30 year old and not feel like I’m pushing 38.  Is this really how 38 feels, or is this how being the mother of 14 feels?  Either way, I want to feel young, sexy, and energetic.  So I did what any desperate person would do in my shoes, I googled the quick fix. 

 

The good old internet told me I was pre-menopausal and I would feel young, and rejuvenated, with a twice a day dose of progesterone cream.   I added that to my online cart and had it overnighted to Utah.  I started using it immediately and noticed two things right away;  my crotch was wetter, and I slept like a baby.  (just now, as I write this, its dawning on me that maybe my crotch was wetter because while I was sleeping like a baby Brandon was having his way with me.  I’ll ask him about that when I’m done here.)  Those were two things I was happy about.  Sleep equals refreshed and rejuvenated, and a wet crotch can only mean good things are about to come.

 

When we returned from Utah I did so without the box of directions that my cream had come in.  Oh well, how hard was it to remember twice a day.  I had ordered a month supply, so I just ran out last week and reordered more.  When it arrived, I actually read the insert and was shocked to learn that I should only be using the cream the last 14 days of my cycle.  Not twice a day everyday all month long.  My bad. 

 

So I stopped on day one of my cycle.  By day two, I was contemplating divorce.  By day three I was up all night long with insomnia and my crotch was so dry I couldn’t even remove my tampon.  By day five I hated my children and took up drinking.

 

Yesterday, Brandon sat at the pool with me and nicely told me that he likes me better on the cream all month long.  I have to agree with him. I came home from the pool and rubbed a double dose all over my body, this morning I applied it liberally, and packed it in my suitcase. I am feeling nicer already. Now is not the time to feel old, tired, or pissy.  My baby is graduating and I get to spend the weekend with my ex and The Nanny.  Taking up a wee bit of drinking may have been the best thing that came out of this life lesson.

 

I’m hoping that, by next month, my magic cream has fixed the fat roll on my gut and miraculously erased my whiskers.  You never know.

 

*P.S. This was written at cruising altitude of 38,000 feet. It may have affected my judgement.  

 

 

 

 

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