Sunday, February 28, 2010
Clip show. And also, week nine.
Week Seven -- eat breakfast. I am batting a thousand here since that week ended. It does take a little more morning effort but I am learning ways to simplify and shorten the time I spend on assembling breakfast at home, so I feel like I'm on the right track. Also, I love to eat so it's its own reward.
Week Eight -- to do lists. While this was very productive at the office, I'm still on the fence about this one when it comes to home stuff. On the one hand, it does help me keep track of projects and things that need doing; on the other hand, I get all wrapped up in finishing tasks that aren't necessarily time-critical just because they're on the list. Some perspective might be necessary there...I think I'll keep trying it and seeing if I can find the right balance.
And now...week nine. I have taken a day off to be reflective and also to vacuum, so week nine is time-shifted to start tomorrow. This will be Practice Perfect Hygiene week, aka An Excuse to Get a Mani/Pedi.
A couple of weekends ago, I went to the Kit Kat Club with some friends. It's basically a supper club/drag show. While we were eating, a friend commented that she thought my makeup looked nice. I told her that since I was going to a drag show, I felt I had to bring my A game when it came to makeup. Sad thing is, I was telling the truth. Last thing I need is the Charo impersonator with a spectacular rack and 12" hips to rag on my janky eyebrows and crooked eyeliner. This weekend, we're flying to Texas to visit Peter's family, and since Texas women are like drag queens when it comes to make up, I feel the same way. I need to clean up my act.
This isn't to say I'm all bedraggled all the time -- I clean up okay when I put in the effort. It's just that between the job and the house and the kids, I have pared my daily beauty routine down to its barest essentials -- or what I feel are the barest essentials. My nails are a disaster, with ragged cuticles and scraggly edges that have ruined two pairs of tights in the last week. I won't wear flipflops because homeless guys look at my feet and offer me quarters. So there's definitely room for improvement on that front. I do wear at least some makeup probably six days out of seven, but that's only because I work. And my hair...don't even ask. Most days it's in an indifferent ponytail, even for work. And then there's my loathing for ironing. I have convinced myself that I have a permapress wardrobe, but...no. Not really. So, between slapdash makeup, floppy frizzy hair, hobbit feet, and rumpled pants, I'm not exactly cutting a fine figure every day.
And at 34, I should probably start thinking about taking better care of my skin. Mexicans, in my experience, are given to looking somewhat youthful until one day they wake up looking like a battered leather valise, and I guess I'd like to put that day off as long as I can. Right now my skincare routine consists of washing, occasionally apricot scrubbing, and moisturizing with some drugstore moisturizer. I don't know if I'm down for, say, a glycolic peel or anything like that yet, but maybe some more targeted creams...balms...salves...unguents...whatever might fluff out the creases in my forehead.
I'm also haphazard when it comes to dental care. Given that I have had extensive gum surgery and several root canals you'd think that I'd be inclined to floss with my shoelaces if necessary, but no. That 70, 80 seconds is clearly better spent searching for gray hairs or chin hairs or picking at zits lodged inside my wrinkles. And the brushing time is almost certainly less what is necessary.
So this week, I will take the time every day to look like a grown-up: nice hair, nails, clothes, face, and teeth. I will style my hair, carefully apply makeup, iron what needs ironing, pluck what needs plucking, and shave what needs shaving. I will smell nice. I will try not to chip the polish on my nails. And I will stand up straight.
But for now I will lie down straight in the tub.