Eyes Wide Shut

Just when I thought I had nothing to blog about the universe has once again thrown me a fun little curve ball to share with y’all.

A few days ago, I managed to get my eyes glued shut.

No, really…Totally.  Glued.  Shut.   How did I find myself in such a predicament you ask?   It all comes down to one simple character flaw.

Vanity.

Let’s back track a bit shall we?   So we know I’m vain…in all honesty, I don’t think that was every in question was it?   (Don’t answer that.)    As part of the vanity issue I suffer from, I get my eyelashes done once every three to four weeks.    For those of you that are scratching your heads saying, “But Stiletto, what do you mean???” let me explain.    There is this semi new wonderous process for those of us that were not born with naturally lush and long eyelashes wherein individual lashes are applied to your existing stubby ones and secured with medical glue so that they remain in place for several weeks.

This is where it went sideways for me people.

My normal girl is out of town and quite frankly, my eyelids were bald.    I couldn’t live like that for another week so I took to the Google machine to find someone to hook me up in her absence.   Found a salon which had great reviews and an opening and we were off to the races.

I showed up for my appointment and was led into a peaceful room with spa like music much like my neighbor plays for his koi fish. I settled in and promptly went to sleep for my hour long appointment.   At some point later, and here is where it gets real people, I woke up due to some, um, natural body functions shall we say.   It would appear that the bean burrito I had for lunch had come back to haunt me…and my so called lash therapist.

Anyway, I tooted myself awake and realized my throat was seriously dry which either meant I had been snoring (I don’t…unless you ask my husband and he lies) or I had been there a long time.    It was at this point I also realized that my “therapist” was seriously freaking out and muttering to herself in a language I didn’t understand which basically means everything but English and Spanish.    She was alternating between picking at my lashes with some tiny tweezers and hitting them with a tiny blow drier.   (Yes, they even have tiny blow driers for this process…)

I let this go on for several minutes before asking, “Um, is there some type of problem I need to be aware of?”

This?  Is the point where having someone who speaks English administering glue to your eyelids is important.   Live and learn people, live and learn.

Two hours into the appointment, and :45 minutes after I realized I might actually have a real issue on my hands she miraculously freed my eyelids and said, “See?  Not so bad, huh?” Other than having thoughts of how on earth I was ever going to explain this to my husband, let alone the emergency room personnel I was fairly sure I was going to meet in my immediate future, no…not so bad.    They did look good after all.

Upon leaving, I received a hug which while startling to me, seemed necessary to her given our journey together.   After our awkward embrace she looked me in my now open eyes and said,  “So, I see you in two weeks?”

Not if I see you first, honey….no way in hell.

Insightfully yours,

TSM

 

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