Feelings Friday: Body Insecurity and Bad Behavior

I have yet to meet a human being who isn’t insecure about some part of their body. I also have yet to meet a human woman who hasn’t gone through the “am I doing this right?” stage of a new make-up technique.

Ask anyone who has ever attempted a cat-eye what their first experience was like.

Sometimes there’s a learning curve and sometimes a pal has to step in and say “you’re beautiful and perfect and I love you but I can see your underwear right through those pants.”

I’m of the strong opinion that this “pal” should be your mother, your best friend, or your significant other and this “stepping in” should be kind, courteous, and necessary. If any part of this equation is missing, it doesn’t matter the intention, it can hurt.

I bring this up because I recently started filling in my eyebrows. Let’s all just be honest here: it’s hard. Like harder than I thought. Picking the right color when your hair is dyed uncountable shades lighter than your natural color but you have substantial grow-out is hard. Not making them too big, too small, too far apart, too angular, and basically perfect and natural is hard.

I just want to cover up the bald spots.

Anyway, I did the research, I watched the tutorials, I experimented and I’d like to think I’ve been doing a decent job. I even checked in with my close friends and Boyfriend. Approved.

And then this week an acquaintance of mine decided to comment. On my eyebrows.

She is not my mother, my best friend, or Boyfriend last I checked. Plus she came at me abruptly. Rather than a “hey, can we talk about your eyebrows,” I got “What’s going on with your eyebrows?”

Never, ever, no matter how stupid you think someone looks, should you comment on their body by saying “What’s going on with your [insert body part]?”  Continue reading

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Patience for Dummies

A Moment of Patience in a Moment of Anger Saves You a Hundred Moments of Regret (1)

I have a temper.

A road raged, frustrated on hold with customer service, heart banging, head pounding sort of temper. A making up entirely new curse words, throwing things, biting my tongue to avoid a yelling match sort of temper. A kaboom, bam, pow, did I just tear my own hair out for betraying me, sort of temper.

I’d like to think I’ve gotten better over the years, but I’ve got a long way to go. I suppose it’s all about pausing to breathe and thinking about your words and actions before saying them, rather than seeing red for a while and coming back to a list of apologies to make.

Anyone else out there have a hot temper (or know someone with one)?

Feelings Friday: Tattoos, Expression, and Haterade

Two years ago I got a tattoo. It wasn’t a monumental occasion. I’d gotten a couple of tattoos before and it wasn’t anything intricate.

In fact, it was a line.

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A year into my Peace Corps service, I got one line around my leg. After I completed my second year, I got a second. Nothing big or particularly beautiful, but it meant something to me. It was a reminder of two years of struggle and joy.

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When the scabs flaked off and it stopped looking moderately scary, I loved my tattoo. I wrote about it and put that writing on the internet.

Enter: the haters.

Some guy decided my tattoo, and by proxy I, was stupid. He reblogged my post on a “stupid tattoos” blog and because I am perhaps an overly sensitive type, my feelings were substantially hurt.

Continue reading

Let’s Dance with the Skeltons in My Closet for a Moment

Sigh.

Let’s start with a story.

As I’ve mentioned before, I frolicked many a-summer away working at camp. The funny thing about working 15-16 hour days, 6 days a week with the same coworkers, rain or shine, hysterical laughter or hysterical tears,vomiting, diarrhea, sniffles, and the black death, is that it tends to bring you closer.

Some of my best friends are camp friends. Some of the most challenging and shaping moments of my life happened at camp.I had carrot cake for the first time at camp.

Carrot cake.

The years of camp crushes were also the most prevalent and ridiculous. There was a particularly obsessive and now embarrassing summer that I won’t go into other than saying that it didn’t end well and that summer was the first time a crush nearly drown me.  Continue reading

Workplace Woes: A Tale of a Mitchum Huntzberger-ing

Today something bonkers happened.

My friend, my beautiful, perfect, hard-working friend, got fired.

Now I know, sometimes with our buddies we have blind-spots. That “trustworthy” childhood friend steals from her office. The “kind-hearted” pal from yoga yells at cashiers over pennies. The “honest” coworker  tells white lies to her landlord. But I can promise, after all of the not-so-great friends I’ve been through, I see my current buds pretty clearly.

So you can imagine why I was upset when my friend, we’ll call her Alice,* called me in tears saying she’d been fired.  Continue reading