Humped!

Well.. we're finally at the middle of the week. for one reason or another.. this week has been a long one already. Maybe cause it's just about Easter, and I'm practically SALIVATING at the idea of meat and sweets (and a glass of WINE!!) and these last few days. just. won't. be. over. with.


Next week, Rhena's off from school, so we'll have a little taste of what summer will be like. without the excruciating heat and humidity, that is! on tap are some play dates, park visits, and perhaps a museum or two. I'm looking forward to it. There's something very fulfilling about taking the kids to a special place. it reminds me of all the day trips my parents used to take us on. and now, as a parent.. I want my kids to grow up knowing that there's a whole world outside of stepford, and it doesn't occur in 45 minute scheduled increments.


so yeah.. next week we're gonna do some free-style childhooding.

I still have to discuss my stress/concerns about Rhena wearing makeup. Part of me is resigned that it will happen, but I haven't totally given up the fight. Basically.. For Rhena's recital in May... I got a 10-page document of rules and regulations, one of which states multiple times that ALL DANCERS must wear FULL-FACED MAKE-UP. it goes on to describe that this is defined as FOUNDATION, eyeliner (??) mascara, eyeshadow, AND lipstick.



uhh.. Rhena is THREE.


The idea of Rhena wearing that much SHIT on her face makes me seriously ill. I have seen girls getting pictures done in our local photography studio; and really... vegas showgirl comes to mind. of course.. then there's the CONSTANT THOUGHTS OF JON-BENET

SO disturbing. and I know, I know.. the make-up is because they will be on stage, and the lights will fade them out. but then the director said some shit about it being a tradition that every little girl looks forward to... wearing the make-up and pretty costumes and being on stage.

Maybe I'm the big dummy cause this is what I signed up for, but it really ISN'T. I signed my daughter up to be in a dance class, a good school with structure and professional teachers. not some run-amok gym class.

and rhena LOVES the class, and is SO excited about her big recital, and that gram and grampa will be coming to see her.. so I can't just say NO.

the good news is that now having had worked for the make-up mafia, I suppose I can apply the bare minimum that will make her face visible from the audience and meet the requirements of full-face without making her look whore-ish. but I'm still not happy about it.

anyways. that's that. The whole idea makes me ill.. more so cause i TRULY don't want my baby wearing make-up, and that she will most-likely be doing so. And the moms in the hall say it's no big deal.. but to me? it is. I DON'T find it cute. I DON'T think it's normal. I simply don't like it.

but... I also won't like it when Rhena at 13 wants to wear a skirt that's too short, when Danny starts dating, when either kid gets their driver's license, or goes off to college. bleh.. but even that is different, cause those are natural milestones in growing up. wearing make-up at THREE is NOT A NATURAL MILESTONE!!!! ok.. I'm done talking about it. The recital is not until May, and I can stress about this more later. for now, I'm going to enjoy my babies.

I'm no better than a Drug Dealer

SO if there's anything I've learned about working for the Make-Up Mafia, it's that there was a mix up in the Reno Division of Ego Handouts.

Why is it that I find that the prettiest girls that come to my counter have the lowest self esteems, whereas the most haggard of two-bit whores tend to not realize that THEIR roses smell like Poo-poo? (Thank you, Outkast)

The other thing that truely amazes me is how much money women will pay to acquire someone else's definition of beauty. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with cleaning yourself up and presenting yourself as best you can, but the extreme measures some women go through is just crazy. I mean, let's face it---- if you're in or beyond your 40's, chances are, you might get a wrinkle or two.

that happens when you smile sometimes, ya know.


but they come in droves, armed with their credit cards to purchase and slather on products that will seemingly stop Father Time. And I'm a greedy commission hungry fool, so I help them. I create morning and night skincare regimes, I personalize their color story to highlight their eyes and draw attention to their voluptuous lips.... I push and pimp products like some common Brooklyn Street Hustler.

I used to try to tell women they didn't need this or that, but each time I did, I found I was faced with a crazed stare that could have only meant that if I didn't give it to them they would make me do shots of estrogen til my eyes bled. ---- Of course now, I have the baby to think about, so I give the ladies what they want, and they go away hopeful.


I suppose when this little monster comes out, I'll be happy to be reprieved of my psuedo Drug Dealer status. I won't miss the desparation on the customer's part, and I certainly won't miss having to tell someone that Youth Dew actually smells wonderful. But that mental toying with people.... the suggestive selling..... that's gotten fun. There will be part of me that misses just how far to the edge of their bank statements I can make women go, but hey--- I can always take up that sport again with my parents.