Assisted Procrastination

Dear Strip Mall Vietnamese  Aesthetician,

Just for future reference, your unending compliments would have resulted in a very nice tip had you not waxed off a third of my left eye brow. My dress may have been flattering, but even that won’t detract from the freak show that is now my brow line.

Thanks!

So, Internet, do I draw it back in or rip out the right one to match? Did I mention I’m going to a conference for the next couple days where I will get to interact with experts and my peers in the industry?

Note to the woman in the car behind me – In much the same way that you don’t want to be seen with chin hair, no one in any of the dead stand-still traffic around us wants to watch (or try desperately NOT to watch) you pluck said chin hairs. While you may be alone in your car, your windows continue to function as designed both allowing you to see out and for everyone else to see in. I should also note that, until you started going after your face like a duck at a loaf of bread, I had no idea you were sporting a she-beard. In the future, please (I’m begging) hold your private personal hygiene for a time when you are in a discreet location.

There’s a not-so-fine-line between an “enhancer top” and “she’s obviously flat and thinks everyone else is too stupid to notice.” I just crossed that line.

The good news is that I’m NOT blind and I have years of experience being forced to accept the fact that puberty opted to pass me by on the one defining feminine development I so desperately wanted. While genetics may have blessed me with the inability to gain weight, unfortunately, genetics cursed me with the inability to fill out a sexy top. Or even a cute top, for that matter. (We all have our burdens to bear.)

So let’s be honest here. Most women aren’t shaped like porn stars or lingerie models. Or even the normal/healthy sized women seen in some catalogs. Compared to those images, we’re all freaks of nature. Almost as discreet as an opossum trying to hide in a litter of kittens.

While I recognize and appreciate that I’m ahead of the game in some aspects, I don’t think it’s too much to ask for some truth in advertising – specifically, Victoria’s Secret advertising. It would be great if they used models shaped like normal women or at least used models who didn’t purchase their attributes from a display case at The Cosmetic Depot. But I’m realistic and know that’s never going to happen. Instead, I think Victoria should continue to use her over-endowed, Photoshopped models to sell overpriced, cheap clothes. It’s the leading business model these days, so why not? But it would help us all (OK, it would help ME) if they could at least insert some truth into their advertising. When advertising that push-up enhancer top that adds a full 2 cup sizes, add a caption that notes the model in the picture was a 34-DD *BEFORE* she shoe-horned herself into that cute top. I know my “cups” will never “runneth over” and I’ll never be able to fill out that cute top to its fullest potential, but at least  I can gauge my chances and decide if it’s worth the effort to even try it.

For the record, it was a really cute top that would have been great to wear on an upcoming vacation. Instead, I’ll wear something appropriate while sipping a fruity beverage and playing my own version of “What Not To Wear – The Cruise Edition.” Because while we all know Victoria’s secret isn’t really a secret, in the interest of public decency, it really SHOULD be.

Is it really possible for someone driving a car to NOT know they’re slipping on ice? So much so that it warrants a fleeting warning light on the dash? And while I appreciate that Mazda thought it important to install said light, the timing for its activation is less than optimal. I mean really, when I’m slipping on icy roads, I don’t exactly have the time or attention bandwidth to play “Decipher the 1/2 inch Unintelligible Dashboard Warning Light.”

Mazda probably could have spent an extra 10 minutes working with Apple to develop a reasonable iPod adapter. That surely would have proven to be a far superior safety feature than the “Obvious Ice Light.” But then I wouldn’t have to memorize the entire playlist structure of my iPod – A task that’s definitely more fun than sliding on the ice! (Not.)

Thank you for reiterating how important my call is while I wait on hold for your next available representative.

I’m sorry you’re experiencing higher than normal call volumes (might this be an indication of an issue?).

Your music is acceptable, an oddity in the hold music industry and adequately reminds me that I’m still on hold (though Sting’s “King of Pain” is coincidentally appropriate).

What has me in a frazzled ball of nerves is your periodic message reminding me that I’m on hold. This message is preempted by a sudden and unexpected pause in the music followed by a recorded message. This wouldn’t be such an issue if the breaks were at set intervals (say, once every minute). Or even just more than 30 seconds apart. I did time them for a while; several of your breaks were less than 15 seconds apart.

Instead, I wait patiently. Gently easing into the sound of the music while occupying myself with some other mundane task only to be repeatedly shocked by a break in the music, making me think I’m about to talk to a live person. The differing voices of the hold reminder/apology only served to taunt me more. I endured this torture for almost 10 minutes before finally reaching a live person (who promptly put me on hold and transferred me to another person).

Someday I’ll wind up in therapy for OCD and I’ll list you as a cause for my neurotic tendencies.