Three (3) Things That Made My Week

1. Spending a morning studying the physical signs of various addictions. Because, let me tell ya’, until you’ve been innocently eating a granola bar and a picture of “meth mouth” pops up on your screen, well, kids, you just ain’t lived. Fun, good times! Please, ignore the fact that I screamed, jumped and almost spewed granola across my cubicle, go Google that shit! (don’t.) It’s pretty! (don’t.) Pinky swear! (seriously, just don’t.)

2. Spending two hours at DMV. You meet such great people there! The staff is super friendly. I may send them Christmas cards this year! Also, of course, it’s great for your self-esteem. There’s nothing like being “cat called” by random, dirty (literally) dudes outside of a government agency to really perk a girl up. It’s hot. White hot. Combine that with all the children who’s parents allow them to roam, free range, around the room and it’s a nice third world atmosphere. All they need, to complete the motif, are a few goats and chickens. I, as a tax payer and lover of a theme, am more than willing to carry the extra expense. Again, I love a theme! Which works out well since the DMV photographic equipment always manages to bring out my inner Mexican. Somehow, I wind up with a tan in any picture they take there. Not just any tan either. But a glorious, dirty tan! The kind of tan that can only be achieved by spending years out in the desert, harvesting cactus to make tequila. . . sans sun block . . . or a hat. Combine that with the fact that you’re not allowed to smile and I look like an angry deportee. Ay!

3. The hotness that is me when I leave the gym. Honestly, boys! Hang onto your control! I’m only one girl!

I do, honestly, heart PITAIYO and know that, in the long run, it’s a good thing. However, that being said, after an average class I look like I’ve been dragged, backwards, across the Serengeti. My hair escapes from my head band within the first ten minutes. Within the first twenty my head scarf is sitting forlornly beside my mat and, by the end, my ponytail holder has given up the ghost as well. Therefore, when I walk out my hair is loose and bigger than ever (it doesn’t like it when I try to confine it and gets . . . Angry).

That’s on a regular day. This week my instructor ate cake before class. We suffered for it.* So, in addition to the hair, this week my pale, sensitive, allergy prone skin was bright red. Which would be fine if it was all over but it wasn’t. It was just in two round spots on my cheeks. Picture it, if you will, stark white face, pink cheeks, huge hair, arms that barely work hanging limply at my sides. I looked like a demonic doll.

Again, boys! Give a girl some room to breathe! I know . . . I know, you can’t help yourselves. Totally understandable. Helen of Troy eat your heart out!

*I, it should be noted, did not have cake. It may be silly but if I’m going to be punished for cake consumption I’d like to be the one consuming the cake. I’m wacky like that!