One set of parents are in Mexico right now. I currently hate them. But only superficially...because I could never hate them. It's just the pea green talking. Kansas and I leave for Romania, Hungary and whatnot in a little less than a month. I suppose I should start thinking about places to stay. I'd be such a shitty travel agent. Do those still exist? Wait. I don't care.
I was thinking about something today...and I'm wondering if you would find it as profound as I did. Probably not...but play along. Last year, at this time my bedtime ritual went as follows:
1. Brush teeth with standard...medium bristled...bright red toothbrush with Crest extra-whitening toothpaste.
2. Take out contacts...put them in their designated case. It's pink.
3. Think about washing face, but don't.
This year...at this time...my bedtime ritual is as follows:
1. Brush my teeth with my Oral B electric powertool toothbrush exactly two minutes with Crest extra-whitening toothpaste.
2. Take out contacts, put them in their designated case. It's white.
3. Floss my gums cruelly and check for ANY sign of bleedage.
4. Make faces in the mirror with cheeks filled with fluoride rinse that you have to keep in for a whole fucking minute. It's purple.
5. Utilize eye makeup remover. It's also purple.
6. Wait for water to get hot...takes about a year.
7. Wash face with ridiculously expensive cleanser that I got from the woman who gave me a facial. She studied skin in Europe...where skin was invented.
8. Follow up with a face serum. I don't know either.
9. Smooth on extremely expensive "Day/Night" cream. It's white.
10. Crawl into bed where Kansas has started and finished watching a feature length film.
You see the difference? Two appointments changed my life forever. Two little appointments to let me know I'm not as young and healthy as I used to be. Two appointments that forced me to look at my lifestyle and find it inadequate. It's been a humbling year.
Men will probably read this and go "what the fuck? no one needs to do all that". And then women will read this and go "what...you think we wake up looking this good? boy you better recognize." And then the women will bitch slap the men and tell them to go fix them a turkey pot pie. Yes, that's how it will go.
Time for a glass of wine. Been suffering a bit of the ol' insomnia lately. I blame nargles.
(oh god, oh god, oh god...that was a severly nerdy Harry Potter reference. you're all going to leave me now, aren't you)