So, I've been gone for a while. The two people who may have noticed I was gone - sorry I disappeared on ya'll like that! Things were just crazy at the homesnizzle. There was the end of Ramadan, which seriously seemed to drag out for some reason, and then there was Eid, which is always super fun. We didn't do much this year - I had the fam over to my place for the day and it was filled with eating and sleeping. Much like any other day actually... I did get to see my twin nieces and my handsome little nephew though!
Anyways, enough of that mess and on to the collection of hot mess in my head... You know how I know that I'm a girl? Once every month, I can stuff my face with a couple double cheeseburgers, some chicken nuggets, a handful of fries, and still regret not buying the pancakes and hash browns.
Of course, I'll bitch and moan about eating all of that for a couple of weeks, but then it'll be that time again and all will be well in my world.
So I went to the salon today... And every time I go, I cry just a little. My hair guy has no reserves for yelling at me. "You call that hair? That's a poodle! Go to the vet!" I get no sympathy when I wince at the threading of my eyebrows. Instead I get a, "this is why your ass should come on time and not two weeks later bitch, so stop crying" stare, complemented with the "hm-hmm" sound effect. It's all very traumatizing. I can't blame them though. I don't get my eyebrows threaded every three to four weeks as recommended, so they grow out and hurt more. Ironically, I don't go when I should because I try to put off the pain as long as I could. And I'm brown - brown people can't afford to put off threading. No. Matter. What.
On the subject of health issues, I have the worst aunt in the world. You know how people have a headache, and then Google 'headache' and somehow start believing they have brain tumors or those little insects that lodge themselves in your brain and make your body attack, well, your body - yeah, my aunt is THAT GOOGLE. She came to visit me last week, and I mentioned that (on and off) for the past year or so, I sometimes feel like I can't take a deep breath. I can breathe, but then when I try to take a deep breath, my lungs are left feeling unsatisfied, like a woman with a not-so-well endowed man. It's terrible. And it makes me think that I have lung cancer, and by morning, I've willed all my stuff away because I'm sure that I only have months, if not days, to live. So Zak, being the doll he is, stays up wiping away my snotty tears and reassuring me that it's probably just a panic attack bought on by my own thoughts, or at worse, a symptom of acid re-flux.
What does my aunt say? "Well, your hearts probably just skipping a beat. You come from a family with heart conditions, your ticker is bound to be broken."
I'm tired. And now I can't shake the feeling that there's something terribly wrong with my lungs. I'm going to distract myself with a little Sheldon Cooper.
Anyways, enough of that mess and on to the collection of hot mess in my head... You know how I know that I'm a girl? Once every month, I can stuff my face with a couple double cheeseburgers, some chicken nuggets, a handful of fries, and still regret not buying the pancakes and hash browns.
Of course, I'll bitch and moan about eating all of that for a couple of weeks, but then it'll be that time again and all will be well in my world.
So I went to the salon today... And every time I go, I cry just a little. My hair guy has no reserves for yelling at me. "You call that hair? That's a poodle! Go to the vet!" I get no sympathy when I wince at the threading of my eyebrows. Instead I get a, "this is why your ass should come on time and not two weeks later bitch, so stop crying" stare, complemented with the "hm-hmm" sound effect. It's all very traumatizing. I can't blame them though. I don't get my eyebrows threaded every three to four weeks as recommended, so they grow out and hurt more. Ironically, I don't go when I should because I try to put off the pain as long as I could. And I'm brown - brown people can't afford to put off threading. No. Matter. What.
What else has been going on in my world? Nothing humorous or share-worthy actually. Yesterday I watched the entire first season of Big Bang Theory in almost one sitting. Almost, only because I had to get out of bed to find food. I also did some shopping in the mornin'. Shopping alone is the most therapeutic thing in the world. I usually hate being out alone. I don't dine alone. I don't go to the movies alone. It just seems sad and I feel like everyone is staring at me going, "look at that lonely girl!" I blame my own insecurities but let's not dwell on that... So there I was shopping alone and I realized it's much more pleasant than shopping with Zak or my girlfriends. There's no constant looking over the shoulder from Zak with his 'are you done yet' look, there's no embarrassing looks from my friends when I have a conversation with myself on whether or not I actually need a new wallet. (I bought three yesterday! Wallets are amazeballs!) It was great!
I really think that I'm losing memory power you guys. I watched a movie two days back and today, I couldn't remember what the movie was about worth my life. Granted the movie sucked anyway and that it wasn't in English, STILL! I should have been able to recall what I saw. Other than ONE of the characters, I couldn't RECALL anything. This led to a convo between Zak and I where he tells me that I really have a horrible memory sometimes - and this isn't just concerning movies. This almost bought on a spell of tears, but he then reassured me that when I completely forget who I am, he'll stick around and remind me.
On the subject of health issues, I have the worst aunt in the world. You know how people have a headache, and then Google 'headache' and somehow start believing they have brain tumors or those little insects that lodge themselves in your brain and make your body attack, well, your body - yeah, my aunt is THAT GOOGLE. She came to visit me last week, and I mentioned that (on and off) for the past year or so, I sometimes feel like I can't take a deep breath. I can breathe, but then when I try to take a deep breath, my lungs are left feeling unsatisfied, like a woman with a not-so-well endowed man. It's terrible. And it makes me think that I have lung cancer, and by morning, I've willed all my stuff away because I'm sure that I only have months, if not days, to live. So Zak, being the doll he is, stays up wiping away my snotty tears and reassuring me that it's probably just a panic attack bought on by my own thoughts, or at worse, a symptom of acid re-flux.
What does my aunt say? "Well, your hearts probably just skipping a beat. You come from a family with heart conditions, your ticker is bound to be broken."
Really people, I almost had to call the ambulance then and there. But this was from the woman who sat me down, when I was like 10 and her daughters were 8 and 6, and asked us to give her huge hugs goodbye because she was going in to labor and there's always a chance she wouldn't come back. I mean, who does that? "Well mommy's going to bring you back a baby brother or sister. Or, daddy might bring them home alone because mommy might die!"
I'm tired. And now I can't shake the feeling that there's something terribly wrong with my lungs. I'm going to distract myself with a little Sheldon Cooper.
