That Was Too Gross

So sorry, Peeps.   That was just gross.   However, I try to keep you informed about all things spa, beauty and the world around.

Mr. Wonderful was so impressed with the iky(boys) he has already ordered a machine and will have it when I return home.

He can't wait to see what comes out of him...just keeping it real.

So, now, something pretty...

The beach is so beautiful at sunset.   I guess the sunrise is too.  I wouldn't know.  heh heh

And show you something else ugly.  I need a pedi!   BAD.  I can hear Queen B saying M-O-T-H-E-R!!

Just keeping it real here at Beachy Mimi.

I think I may do a beach toe search.  Have you ever noticed that some people wear sandals and their toes hang off?   It has become a mimi-obsession with PeepOne and me. 

I think we are going to start a tally and report back to you.

Not that I would EVER take unauthorized toe shots of anyone.  Heh Heh.

I love my Peeps.

Woe Woe Woe and Boo Hoo

TRAUMATIZED, PEEPS, BEACHY MIMI IS TRAUMATIZED!!!!

If I weren't high on dental drugs I probably wouldn't tell all this...hang on. This could get long and painful (as in boring).

I did not sleep because of the THROBBING MOUTH. Even with the drugs. They just kept me awake. When Beachy Mimi does not get sleep...she is Miserable. When BM is Miserable...things don't flow smoothly in this house.

Since I had No Sleep, I called the Parental Unit at the crack of dawn to see if she wanted to go eat breakfast at IHOP and run errands. PU LOVES IHOP. LOVES.

PU's Sunday School class (they call themselves "The Pairs and Spares") eat there together at least once a month with the preacher. He pretends to listen to their suggestions. But that is a whole other story. This is all about Me.

I got up, showered, fixed my hair and put on Makeup. Yes, I truly did. It has been so long since I have worn Makeup...I had a Baseline at my jaw. Tacky.

I go to the closet. I got some jeans out, the same size I always wear, and they WOULDN'T ZIP OR BUTTON. I pulled. I tugged. I lay on the bed and sucked in as hard as I could. Nope. Nada. No Zippo.

I was So Upset I refused to take them off ( I totally blame the drugs). So I got a big fat RUBBER BAND and ran it around the button, through the button hole and looped it back around the button for closure. Am I Classy? What was I thinking? Have I just lost it? A RUBBER BAND at the button hole? I was just so pi**** uh upset they wouldn't fit.

So like a hillbilly I WORE THEM THAT WAY ALL DAY. What was I trying to prove? That I am a stubborn idiot?

So, I pull on a sweater to cover up my handiwork and proceed to go to IHOP to eat breakfast. That really makes sense. I'm sure everyone could see my unzipped, rubber band STRAINING pants. I disgust myself.

PU and I ran many many errands and finally decided to get our "nose and tails" done
as the Princess used to call it (nails and toes).

Oh, I forgot to mention that I wore my new black Uggs today and that was another reason I didn't want to change out of my black jeans. Does it really matter if the jeans are black or regular blue jeans? I think not.

TOLD YOU THIS WAS LONG AND PAINFUL.

So, the nail place is a challenge on my best day. The girls are So Sweet...but Nosy. Very Nosy.

I walk in and Mary (nail tech) says, "You pants not zipped." Yep. She's right.
I hop in the chair and take off the New Black Uggs and my feet and ankles are BLACK.
As in dyed black from the shoes. Mary screams. I cuss. She scrubbs my feet until the water turns black. PU is snickering in the corner.

We eventually move to the nail desk where I start getting the third degree on my "boyfriend" that I don't have. Mary asks (again), "You live with Mama?" I remind her (again) that I live alone and have no boyfriend. She pats my hand in sympathy. I kinda cuss a little more in my head.

Mary proceeds to scold me about the state of my cuticles. What did she expect from a person with unzipped pants and black feet? She says I must dip them in hot wax.

Then she starts in about my eyebrows. They ALWAYS want to do something to my thicker (than theirs) eyebrows. I divert her to my upper lip instead. I disgust myself (again) that I have to get my lip waxed.

A total of THREE nail techs come over to discuss where to put the little cloth over the wax and just how hard they are supposed to yank it off. In Vietnamese. Rapidly. Loudly. I started to yank it myself since I have experience with the WAXING HARLOT. I'm an old pro. The girls decide who will yank and how hard and then it is over.

PU continues snickering at the nail drying table.

Next, Mary leads me to the hand wax dipper (OTHER FOR FOOT. NO USE!) and tells me to dip 3 times. Well...there is the biggest dead waxy horsefly (not housefly...HORSEFLY) already present in the wax.

I point to the fly. Mary shakes her head and says, "you dip".

I say, "There's a fly in the wax."

Mary says, "He dead. You dip."

I guess she thought that a person with rubber band fastened pants and black feet shouldn't be so picky. I decided she was right and I dipped. I may or may not have cussed a little under my breath as I did it.

We finally finished and left. PU was totally entertained the whole time. As we are getting in the car, I look up and ALL the nail techs are at the window watching us get in the car and all are talking at the same time. I guess it was a slow day.

I'm home now. Tomorrow I have to go present something to the Headmaster at the Princess' school.

None of my pants will fit over my too large self. The rubber band trick will not pass muster with her. It's already an embarassment that I'm even going to BE there.

The only sweater that fits has horizontal stripes. What was I thinking? Flat GIRLS can wear horizontal stripes, but NOT ginormous GIRLS.

I have to go shopping in the morning because I sat here all summer wearing knit and elastic and didn't realize MY CLOTHES DON'T FIT ME NOW. I am Seriously P**** Upset.

There are not many things worse than having to shop for a larger size.

This also creates a problem for my Thursday night event. But more on that later.

Did I mention that they left the wax on my lip so long it blistered? Yes. It Did.
Lovely.

I actually look worse than Oliver.

I may or may not still be cussing just a little bit.

I'm a Dental Cripple

I blogged earlier about my 4 hour torture session at the dentist. Well, they called me back the other day to come in to do some measuring. Measuring?

Okay. I'll go. This dental journey I'm on is going to be looong.

As most people, I really don't put the dentist visits up there with Things I Enjoy Doing. In fact, I'm ashamed to say I stretch my 6 month cleaning appointments to 7 months just to be rebellious. I'm a real rebel.

My teeth have always been so-so. By today's standard probably not so good, but by 1950's standard pretty much normal. One thing about it. THEY ARE LARGE. Our whole family has LARGE TEETH. They look like rabbit teeth when the first two permanents come in when we are children. VERY LARGE.

Back in my day, there weren't braces to correct bites or straighten or whatever. No one had the money to do that. Fortunately, my very large teeth were basically straight with no huge over-bite.

Then came pregnancy. Fourteen, yes 14 cavities.

As young married new parents, we had no dental insurance. I'm not even sure we had health insurance for awhile there. Therefore, I had to have dental work done as I could, over time, by many different dentists. In other words, we moved alot. Every dentist had his own way of handling this mess and the result, at mid-fifties, IS a mess. (Aren't you hearing the violins playing in the background?)

Since I want to eat and not gum my food for the next 50 years, I thought it time to correct the confusion once and for all, by one dentist, and have everything coordinate.

So, we measured. And measured. And did impressions. And more impressions. Can I say here that impression goo triggers the gag reflex?

As a result, my "midline" is off. (Always thought I was "off" a little bit. ha)
Everything else is "off" as a result of that. The computers and stuff they have now in the dental world are just amazing.

The computer classified me as a DENTAL CRIPPLE. Way to hurt my feelings. I have really tried. When one has LARGE TEETH you brush alot and keep them white.
BIG YELLOW TEETH. EWWWW. I think I just threw up a little bit.

The light at the end of this very long dental tunnel is that they will be permanently whitened!! Yay!! They will all be equally HUGE! yay I think.

I have temporaries on half my front teeth right now and they look pretty good.
However, one broke today (Saturday) and the dentist is in Las Vegas (and I know why he can go there. I'm just sayin'.)

I'm leaving with Parental Unit, Sibling, SIL and Mr. Random Integer for some Florida fun for about a week. Dentist won't be there.

When I return, some ladies (snort) from my high school years are having a get-together to remind ourselves that we once were cool, had cute legs, and pretty teeth.

We do this from time to time and it is a real ego booster!! Anyway, I will have to go as a DENTAL CRIPPLE because I get home on Friday night late and the shindig is Saturday. A front broken off temporary. On the FRONT of my VERY LARGE TEETH. I look a bit like Sadie from the Ozark hills.

I can make it if I don't smile. However, RULE OF NATURE--PEOPLE WITH LARGE TEETH HAVE VERY LARGE SMILES. Big. Really big. And, I laugh alot. Especially around these yahoos.

So, do I do the uncool thing and cover my mouth when I smile which is TOTALLY DORKY?
Try not to laugh, which will be IMPOSSIBLE? Not go and give them free reign to talk about me? NOT A CHANCE IN THIS LIFETIME...PARENTAL UNIT DIDN'T RAISE NO STUPID GIRL.

So, there really is no choice. I have to find a killer outfit. Shoes, purse, jewelry... the whole thing, as a diversion tactic. Peeps, I HAVE NO CHOICE. These women are VICIOUS. Maybe I can spike my hair extra pointy, but that would call attention to the face, hence, the tooth problem. Maybe a kickin' belt would be the best. Low cut blouse? THE GIRLS are spectacular, but totally lost with this bunch.
Three inch heels? I can barely walk in my flip-flops. Booties? Great jeans and top? Oh the PRESSURE.

All because I have a HUGE GAPE IN MY LARGE FRONT TEETH.

So, I have four days to come up with the OUTFIT OF THE CENTURY while out-of-town and beachcombing.

Any and all suggestions about other diversionary tactics will be appreciated.

Mr. Random is going because there will be another giveaway tomorrow!!

It's Dangerous To Be Bored

Beachy Mimi is rarely bored. I have always felt I was reasonably intelligent enough to entertain myself at any give time.

Well, last week, notsomuch.

I was at a loss. I've NEVER been bored.

A bored Beachy Mimi is a Beachy Mimi out-of-control.

At my regular waxing appointment ( I love waxing) I was reading the tootie waxing page again with utter facinatiion.

The conversation went like this:

BM: So, tell me about this tootie waxing.
Torturer: I wouldn't get waxed, I would get LASERED.
BM: Huh? Tootie Lasered?
Torturer: Yes. It's great. I've done it 11 times. (Note to self: Remember to question why 11 times)
BM: Does it HURT?
Torturer: The lasers are much better than they used to be. (notice to self--torturer dodging question)
BM: Could I try a little spot?
Torturer: Sure. Let's do a patch of Upper Tootie.
BM: I'm game. Let's do it.
Torturer: Put these glasses on and lay back.
BM: Uh...is that stench my BURNING FLESH YOU LYING HARLOT!!
BM: O U C H!!
BM: You didn't tell me it would be mor.phine.ic pain!!
Torturer: That is a tender area.
BM: Ya THINK???

Beachy Mimi left waxing salon will well groomed eyebrows and fried ovaries. It works but I cannot imagine getting central or south central tootie done.

Well, you think that would have cured my boredom and desire for excitement. It didn't.

My next option was getting a tat, body piercing, calling up an old boyfriend or making a random purchase.

The tat: figured it would change areas on my aging body and a tat on the lower back might end up between my shoulders

The body piercing: same thing

Calling up old boyfriend: don't have one to call

Random purchase: it seemed like the lesser of four evils

So, as a Happy Birthday to Me, I bought a car. Actually, I just traded one car for another car but it is new to me.
Now you would think Beachy Mimi, in her bored state, would choose a wild red or sexy blue color. Nope. Nada. White.

WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME??? WHITE?

I should have just gotten a gray car, let my hair go gray and quit waxing my chin hairs.

Don't judge. I got nervous. This was only my second time to do this by myself.

Now I'll be driving around in my boring white car doing boring things like combing my hair and not spiking it.

NOT!!

Maybe I'll get some pink extensions.

Another giveaway tomorrow!!

Love Ya, Peeps!!

I LOVE IT and a GIVEAWAY

I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT! ILOVEITILOVEITILOVEIT.


It makes Beachy Mimi SO PROUD.

If you haven't read Queen B today, you must. She has FINALLY shown that she inherited my inappropriate subject-matter gene.

I feel weepy!

I'm FREE! No longer can she threaten me with my password since she is guilty, too. Isn't that great how that works out?

I'm doing the Beachy Mimi Happy Dance.

In fact, I think she's earned a "That's Just Beachy Award" for her boldness in discussing bodily functions. You ROCK, B. Come get your award, baby!

In honor of such an IMPORTANT DAY, Beachy Mimi is giving away these four lovelies for your reading pleasure.

Yes, all four of this Terri Blackstock series.

All you have to do is answer one little bitty question THAT MATTERS.

"Do you paint your toe-nails (or as The Princess used to call them "no-tails") all year long?"

This is SERIOUS, Peeps. Beachy Mimi MUST KNOW.

I'll leave the comments open until noon CST on Thursday.

Love you, my Peeps!

BMBM #5

I have an update on a previous post about "THE GIRLS", and their High Beam issues. I found a Spanx bra and it is wonderful. The Beam is hidden and girls have no brafat in the back. Not that I would know about that or anything. It was just advertized. Heh Heh

I'm still searching for the petals and things like nursing pads but I don't have them yet.

This may be a sensitive issue for some of you, so stop reading now!!!

We're talking more about grooming.

Specifically, grooming the tootie.

I know I am older, therefore behind (pun intended) in the ways and means of accomplishing such a task.

In my generation, I don't think such grooming was done. If it was, no one talked about it. We all just left things natural. This did cause a problem during summer swimming season.

As I was getting my eyebrows waxed last week, the Salon had a WHOLE PAGE on different kinds of tootie grooming you could request. Beachy Mimi likes to be on the cutting edge and I was just so unaware. I had a lump in my throat to think I HAD MISSED THIS.

They will completely take everything away...or you can trim or draw a little pattern. I think they do one named after Brazil.

Arms, underarms, legs, backs, chests you name it, they'll groom it.

Think of this as a bikini wax on steroids---permanently.

They do warn as you get older you lose, er...some tooties and if you take too much you will be 90 years old and be.....bald, so to speak. Ewww. So the best advice is to leave a few poobies in the area.

This area of lasering may be one Beachy Mimi looks into because I just gotta know.

Have any of you Peeps gone under the laser? waxer? razor? kitchen scissors?

Please share with us so the rest of us can be up to date and properly groomed. Thank you.

It's HAIR Again!

Just because your children move to their own homes and live their own lives doesn't necessarily mean that YOU the Mom are off the hook.

Let me explain.

The Queen B, has done it again.

Pardon me while I take a moment, Peeps. I have been trying to learn to link to other posts for weeks now and I think I finally did it. I have tears. Thank you.

Back to B.

You probably have read some of her earlier posts (hey, I only learned to link her name, not the former posts. Sorry. You'll have to go back and look them up) about all her life long trauma with hair.

Haircuts.

Hairstyles.

Haircolor.

Special Occasion Hair.

Wedding Hair.

The list could go on. and on.......

As her Parental Unit, female, I get the wailing and hysteria and tears and teeth gnashing and drama and flailing about that a hair adventure produces.


That's just as an adult. When she was two is was much more theatrical.


B, decided this was the week she need to get some streaks put in the hair.


When a person has beautiful, thick black hair, why would you want to ruin it with streaks?


She thinks she sees gray......not so much. I'LL SHOW YOU GRAY. Just look under my expertly
camouflaged tresses and you will see mucho gray.


This is like the movie, The Groundhog Day, when Bill Murray wakes up for weeks and does the same thing over and over and over......you get the idea. The hair fiascos are the same way.


Does she THINK that one day it will be different?


I am fairly sure that the current hair person is dead to her now, but the streaks......they were
street- caution- cone- orange. Oops. The salon got deathly quiet and then finally someone said


(someone perky) "Oh! That's CUTE".


She left and immediately called me. "Mom, what am I going to do?"


I replied, yawning, "Maybe it will fade as it washes out......in a few weeks."

"MOM!"

This lead to an indepth discussion of all the possibilities and corrective measures that could be taken in the shortest amount of time.


To make a L O N G story somewhat shorter, she did get some, err, burgundy corrective color toner thing to get her by until the next time, or this grows out......whichever is shorter.


Not to be outdone. Since I was OOT (out of town) and I have this thing about OOT haircuts..... I just happened to get mine cut even shorter!


Now, not only do I have B to worry about, but THE GUILT from getting mine cut OOT.


What a way to start the week.........

THE GUILT

One of the pitfalls of wearing flip flops is the pedicure issue. I can't go with naked toes. I just can't. Therefore, I must paint my toes on a somewhat regular basis. One of the things I have started treating myself to is salon pedicure. It could be that as I get older it gets harder to bend down to the toes. Probably not, though.

When I travel, a favorite thing for me is getting my haircut somewhere. I know. Crazy isn't it.
In Dallas, there is an invisible string that just pulls me into Toni and Guy.

I will insert that I don't have a complicated haircut. Short and spiky. It's pretty hard to mess up.

I have been known to do crazy things to my hair on a trip. I came home 10 years ago from Nashville........a blonde. Platinum. Because when I do something I am obsessive. (and maybe a little compulsive). Ramon colored my hair and bleached the tarbabies out of it. It was awful but I loved the change.

Over the years I have mellowed the color to a "natural" (heh heh) sun-streaked look and it is much better.

BE PATIENT I am getting to my point.

This desire to do an OOT (out of town) cut has been a source of distress for me, also. It's the whole hairdresser thing. For years I went to unknowns because when I went OOT I wouldn't have a relationship with the hairdresser and therefore hurt their feelings.

The only problem.....after awhile you DO develop a relationship.

It has caused me to change salons on several occasions because of THE GUILT.
But not guilty enough to stop doing it.

For the last year, I have tried to change my strategy and go to someone I knew, someone just starting out that could get me in pretty much whenever I wanted. She's a doll. I love her.
I'd die before I hurt her feelings.

I told her I have this OOT quirk and she assured me she would not get her feelings hurt should I ever choose to get a cut while traveling.

THE GUILT. It kills me.

SO,.....today the Parental Unit and I were out looking at stuff and we decided to check out some bling in a store. We had fun trying on stuff but my nails were a mess and I was so embarassed.
This might be a good time to tell you that my hair is too long, flat, limp and saltwater-weary. I am in total vacation mode with no make-up, either. I look like a SERIOUS candidate for an emergency makeover.

The store man heard me discussing mani/pedi and hair issues with Parental Unit and butted in
to suggest a salon. You know it is bad when a complete stranger suggests a salon to you. I'm just saying.....

The creeping up of OOT desire started building. I have been fighting it all day. I have an appointment as soon as I get home to see my precious hairdresser so I can't use that as an excuse. I just don't want to hurt her feelings. The longer I sit here, the flatter and limper (?) my hair gets.

That invisible string is tugging.

But, THE GUILT, it is killing me.

On the mani/pedi I don't feel that way. I go to the same woman all the time and she hugs me and worries about the fact that I have no boyfriend (seriously). When I told her I was going on vacation for a month, she said, "You go with boyfriend?" I told her no, I was going with Parental Unit. She clucked her tongue, shook her head and patted my hand (like in sympathy).

But, I don't have THE GUILT factor with her. There is basically no relationship other than nailperson/client.

I can get my fingers and toes done with no remorse.

The hair? Not so much.

I'm just going to have to tough it out. It's THE GUILT.

Am I the only one with hairdresser issues. Probably. It figures.....