The pixies have gone with their father for the weekend. The big tall boy has been at his dads all week. With only the Cats and Crafts here, it feels like a Saturday.
I was looking in the mirror this morning, and wondered why I continue to torture myself in the name of hair removal. My "White Tom Selleck" gooey mustashe was making my nose run and really stinks. Is it not natural for a woman who's ancestors are a mix of Jamaican, French and Bulgarian to have a little upper lip hair? Probably. Yet, I continue to slather chemicals there, or hot wax and a rrrrrrrripping strip, and the occasional poke with the tweezers in an effort to hide the fact that I'm a hairy beast. And if i'm such a freak about my upper lip, how is it that my Gorilililila arms don't bother me hardly at all? funny that.
Made some pillows for the doll house and mini collection. Some Halloween throw pillows, and some reversible strawberry flowered ones. There are matching bedspreads on my etsy store, too.
Ok. The residual smell of "pleasant scented hair creme" is making me nauseous. I'm going to have a tea.
L
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