Watchya Gonna Do? Watchya Gonna Do? When they come for you.....

I thought I needed to put that one in context.

I have to be honest about something: I'm back on the sauce.

The conditioner sauce that is.....

I felt like I needed to tell the truth after writing an entire blog about the evils of conditioner. And now? Now, I'm a total hypocrite.

But in my defense... I think I actually fell into a trap orchestrated by the conditioner bottle itself. My hair happens to be the longest it's ever been. Mid-back. You can't necessarily tell it's very long because the difference between wet and dry is a good 6-8 inches. My goal is though, to seriously grow my hair out, like way out. I've never been able to get very far past my shoulders, so, so far this is landmark hair growth.

I love long hair. Love it. And I've always wanted to have it, but never possessed the patience. But with my 26Th birthday looming around the corner and the fear of a premature mom-cut, plus I really do think I'm a little too old for the Bob and Curl(My name of my classic and staple, chin length hair do). So, if I want to grow this horse mane out, it's got to be now or forever hold your peace kind of deal.

You would not believe how difficult my hair is though! Knots upon knots of tangled rope tied up together in this sort of impenetrable wall of disaster.

That brings me to conditioner. Last Friday I was in a hurry and so during the shower I had to plan ahead. Take the 30 minutes I don't have and attempt to pic my way through the wet mop on top of my head or use conditioner, call it a mulligan and be done in two minutes. I took the mulligan.

And it's never been the same since. I've had to continue to use it or face the consequences of ripping all of my hair out(Like really rip all of my hair out. It's not pretty.). So just for the record. I've joined the ranks of most women out there, using conditioner and having flat, difficult hair. And I hate it.

While, we're being honest, I feel like I need to clear some other things up about myself as well.

I just started washing my face. I know, this is totally gross, and you people are going to totally think I'm like the most disgusting person alive. But hear me out.

I am allergic to MOST everything. And mostly I am allergic to things you put on top of the skin. Lotions. Perfumes. Body Wash. But most of all Soap. So, to be fair, facial soap has the opposite effect on me than clearing up my skin. It actually makes me break out in rashes, or hives and these rarely stay just on my face. I mean we're talking about fully body bumps and red splotches.

So I've resigned myself to water, a wash cloth and once in a while eye make up remover. That is until Kylee says to me, "My dermatologist told me that you are supposed to wash your face twice a day and every time you miss a washing, that's like adding a day of old age to your face."

WHAT?????

Let's see, I'm almost 26. I've never washed my face, let alone twice a day..... So 2 x's 365 is 730... And 730 x's 26 is 18,980...!!!! What?? No wonder I feel like I'm looking old! Apparently, my face is the oldest living creature alive! Alert Science folks, we've got a living, breathing dinosaur on our hands.

Needless to say, after she told me that, I went directly into the bathroom and scrubbed the crap out of my face(I do keep facial soap, and cleansers, and moisturizers and masks around... I just never use them.). UNTIL NOW. But I have to say, I don't like this either.

Sure, my face might be much softer and even clearer(Taking care of some issues I had on the top of my nose) but it is also much greasier and shinier and I don't know what else, but I don't like it. Rest assured all of you people cringing in disgust at my confession that I will continue to scrub this freshly renewed face until everyone of those 18,980 days of old age are completely washed away and reversed. (That can happen right?)

I know I'm a total hippy.

Actually, let's say gypsy. Hippy's are generally liberal and I think of myself as rather conservative.

Next Confession: I don't wear deodorant.

Ha. Just kidding! But you were totally expecting it, weren't you!

For Real Next Confession: Sometimes I can be really shy. Like introvert-lost-the-ability-to-speak-have-no-clever-thing-to-say-shy. And it is no reflection on anyone else, other than my brain for some reason shutting the extrovert side of me down and quieting my over active mouth if only for a few minutes. I can't help it, I can't tell when it is going to come on, but sometimes it does. And then, suddenly I'm a Wall-Flower, unable to make or keep conversation.

I'm a terrible driver. I feel like most people already know this, but I need you to know that I am fully aware of my driving ability! But know also that I keep my children safe. There is no need to worry about their safety with me behind the wheel because I will protect them in every manner.

And fine. While we're at it. I'm an airhead. A complete and utter ditz. I ask a bazillion questions, because I can rarely connect A to B on my own. But I'm also smart. Fine, Book Smart. But still smart. So just because I say something completely off base and ridiculous doesn't also mean that I can't recite to you all fifty states and their capitols or hold my side of an intelligent argument. Because I can.

Also, I have absolutely no memory. I can't remember my name half of the time, let alone past events, dates and times. At one point in my life, I could remember every single, little, insignificant detail to any memory at any given time. But then. I destroyed my brain on diet coke(Imagine two eggs. This is your brain. Now imagine those two eggs being cracked open and thrown into a hot frying pan. This is your brain on drugs. Early 1990's Commercials? Anyone?) and had two kids. And what's left of this mind is scattered, disorganized and forgetful. So, I'm sorry if I forget to call you back, or forget the thing you thought was so funny. It's not personal. And I really, really wish I could remember, believe me, but I can't, so I'm sorry.

I am trying to solve this problem, by giving up Diet Coke if that makes you feel any better.

I am a huge coward. Like terrified of everything. Scary movies. Scary strangers. The future. Growing old. The unknown. New jobs. Other moms. The dark. Getting everything I really want. Responsibility. People counting on me. Drowning. Suffocating. Ugly scars. Being paralyzed. Ghosts/Demons. Not being a good enough wife or mom. Failure. For real going crazy.

You know, stuff like that.

And for a person that pretends not to care about much, the list is longer than that. Sometimes I panic. Sometimes I hyperventilate. At times, I can really be gripped by fear. But don't worry, in the end I usually forget about whatever I was scared of and move on with life.

Almost finished.

I cry all of the time. ALL OF THE TIME. At least five times a day. I know exactly when it started. After my dad died and I cried for like a year straight about him. And then I was pregnant and all hormonal. And then I was pregnant again and hormonal again..... And now I just cry. I cry at commercials, at songs, at happiness, at sadness, and gestures of love, when I yawn, while I'm telling a story(And usually it doesn't even matter the nature of a story), when I'm embarrassed or when somebody else is embarrassed. I seriously cry through it all.

And yet I still wear regular mascara opposed to waterproof. Probably because I always forget.

And finally.

I can be really snotty. Like really, really snotty. A bitch even. And a lot of times this manifests in the most irritating, passive-aggressive forms possible. But it happens. And when it does, it is not pretty. And I hurt a lot of feelings. Including, usually, my own. And I hate that I get this way. Sometimes I feel justified, like last night when the lady at Costco stepped in front of me and stole my chicken and I had to wait for a new one for 20 minutes while she walked around with it and then as soon as the new, fresh, hot chickens were on the shelves she magically appears again and puts her old chickens back to take new, fresh ones! I know!!! But always, always after I feel terrible, and sick and awful and I can barely stand myself. So I am sorry if you've ever been on the other end of my snottiness(Mom, I am especially talking to you.). Because I don't like it either.

But if it makes you feel any better. Usually if I'm brave enough to get snotty with you, that means I love you the most or I haven't had my coffee yet.

Wow. That's a long one. And that's not even the half of my flaws. I haven't even mentioned the fact that I'm usually a terrible friend, I way too confident, I can often be lazy, I can be argumentative because I like an argument, I gossip, I can be two faced, and watch wayyy to much trashy TV. But it's a start. So, sorry you had to sit through that, because really that was more like a therapy session then a blog.... Yikes.