Self Improvement

So. Here we are in the middle of a recession and I finally come to and realize I left something behind in that "old economy". Gone are the days of $500 photo-facials, gone are the instant botox eye lifts, missing are the twice weekly mani's and pedi's. And Nordstroms, yeah-gone. Saks-closed. Missookie- dead to me. And my body? Declared M.I.A. At first, I didn't even notice! I was walking around in the new economy completely ignorant to what I'd left behind. Oh, there were little signs, like when I was walking around Publix in the bakery section one day and I heard a tussling behind me. At first I thought someone was going to challenge me for the last remaining eclair, I quickly turned, ready to say, "I saw it first", but there was no one there. Puzzled, I wondered, could that have been..my ass settling in? Nah, I thought, that is just ridiculous. I mean, whose ass makes a swishing noise? I had failed to recognize the seriousness of my situation. And that failure could have been the result of the fact that I was walking around licking the Cheetos dust off my finger tips and just had no idea of the problems yet to come. See, with Cheetos dust, it just makes it hard to see clearly. And then, before you know it, you are mixing Jack Daniels with the Cheetos and you feel really, really happy and you hardly think about the things you used to have. But before you get all self righteous on me, thinking, "How could she do this? She has really lost her mind". Let me tell you this my friends, I once moved and ended up storing my washer and dryer. Two years later when I opened that dryer it was full of clothes! I never even knew I was missing anything. So, what I am trying to do is make it clearer for those of you that just can't possibly see yourselves as missing- it happens. Believe me, if I can leave a dryer full of clothes behind for two years- I can walk away from something I was bound to lose anyhow. Especially when you think, "Oh, I will be right back". You know, that old, saved- triple saved, step on a crack-crap"? But then, slowly you start to come around and "Shut the hell up", is the first thing you think to yourself. I mean ignorance can be blissful, especially when it is chased by a fifth of Jack Black- right? So, here I am smack dab in the middle of the worst economic times of my generation and it hits me. " Shit on a stick. Someone call 911. Houston, we got a problem." Uh-ho, the bow-day has left the building... But getting serious, you cringe and think, "Self, put down that bag of Frito Lay and do something"! Knowing that these times call for crafty thinking, you wonder as you slowly lower the coke bottle, "Are these things still refundable"? But really, what do the tough do, when the times get tougher? I say, they go get a pedicure and contemplate a way out. Nothing makes me open to new ideas more than when someone is rubbing the callouses off these hoofs. Pure bliss. Of course, one thing leads to another, as it usually does in these situations and next thing I know, I am once again, flat out on one of those Asian beds and then RIP. Mission accomplished. Step one was admitting I had a problem> Step two- rid yourself of any unwanted body hair. There was only one small problem, my lip, it must have been very attached to all that peach fuzz, because it proceeded to throw itself a righteous little fit! If I told you that 24 hours later, I looked like I'd had bad lip injections, that would be an understatement. Just think of that wall hung loud mouth talking Bass fish and you get the picture. But, here's the deal. I knew the job was going to be hard when I took it, so buck up babe. Next step in the mission, off to get the locks coiffed. I'd made the switch to a new salon a few months earlier and up until that very moment, I'd been happy. It is important that you understand the term, "Adding insult to injury", because at that very salon, with my throbbing lip, my new stylist decided- and without any prior communication, that I'd look, "sassy" with blond streaks in my hair. First off, I seriously can't begin to explain to you what I want to do to someone who tells me I look sassy. What the hell is sassy? I will tell you what it is, sassy is a term you use for someone who just doesn't have it in them to be a "Cougar". Sassy is a nice way of saying, "Welcome to the world of cruise ship hair you old hag". I turned to face the mirror and after pushing down my upper lip, so I could get a good look, I almost cried. I looked like a menthol smoking, Budweiser drinking convenience store clerk. You know the sort, they hold their bright red vinyl cigarette pack in the same hand as their lit cigarette, smoke swirling around their Aqua Net head. Really, they are lucky the whole picture doesn't just self implode- so much alcohol. And actually, I have done a poor job of describing what I saw. Because I saw 50 points of my IQ, in a big damn hurry, running in the opposite direction as polyester and middle age, that by now had lept up onto my lap and settled themselves happily around my hips and thighs. I didn't find my body, my body had found me. Crap.