Sarah Bellum's Tales of Wit and Charm

Getting old(er) sucks the big one. I hate waking up in the morning and seeing both zits and wrinkles. IT’S NOT FAIR! It’s like my own personal punishment from Jesus for having lovely, clear skin in my youth.

Recent stress has me looking and feeling way older than I want to. After weeks of screaming at my reflection in the mirror I decided to take matters into my own hands. My face needed a vacation in the worst way.

I researched the shit out of skin creams and realized just how expensive that option was. For the money I’d be better off spending a day in the spa.

So I did.

I went to Mountain Medical Spa in Murray and tried microdermabrasion for the first time. I’m totally hooked! My face feels baby butt smooth, which is fantastic for me, but not so fantastic for the stranger in the elevator. As it turns out, complete strangers do not want to rub my face to see how silky smooth it is.

I was worried it may be a painful procedure, but it wasn’t. It was like an intense massage complete with relaxing music in the background. The clinic is technically a medical center, but it felt more like a spa full of gal pals. The only way I could have enjoyed my experience more is if they had offered me a hooker and a vodka tonic.

I’m going back next week to try out some of the other offered treatments, so I’ll keep you updated on the hooker offering.

And now for the question portion of this post:

What about you… have you had any procedures? If so which ones? Were you happy with them?

To read this week’s column online go here. To read the PDF version go here. To lecture me on being nice to small children go to the comment section.

I’ve never been the girl who pours over fashion magazines. I’m not exactly stylish, unless you consider wearing strictly pink and black clothing a style. Sure I like to look cute, but the work involved with looking my personal best stresses me out.

I’m also horrible with details. Proof?

I got home yesterday and noticed my socks were mismatched:

And that my shirt was missing two rhinestones:

It’s moments like this when I miss having roommates. Another woman would mock me until I changed, plus having access to clothing someone else picked out helps with the style factor. I imagine that’s what having a personal shopper feels like.

Or a gay husband.

I’m open to either at this point.

Monday and Tuesday are humping. Seriously. There’s no other explanation for my day.

Typically Tuesday greets me with a smile, but not today. Today Tuesday greeted me with a headache, and a day full of stressful, last minute school assignments. Tuesday is a bitch that is treating me poorly due to my own mistreatment of Monday.

If these two involve Wednesday in their evil plan I’m going to have to take some drastic actions. So far my plan is to sleep completely through the both of them next week.

That’ll show ‘em.

Monday: “HI SARAH!!!”

Sarah: “Ugg, really, you again?”

Monday: “YES! Hop out of bed. Go to work. Get your Monday on. Let’s go!!!”

Sarah: “Seriously, why must you be so in my face? Tuesday is a much nicer day. You’re just impossible to deal with, and frankly, a bit of a motherfucker.”

Monday: “Sarah, that’s not nice. What did I ever do to you?”

Sarah: “Well, for starters, you have a way of ruining my time with Sunday, and Sunday and I are tight. We’re like the BFFs of the week.”

Monday: “Maybe I’m in your face because I’m jealous of your relationship with Sunday, and Saturday too, for that matter. In fact you are so much nicer to every other day.”

Sarah: “IT’S BECAUSE I HATE YOU! Now get out of here and let me pretend I’m in bed with Sunday.”

Monday: “Whore.”

Sarah: “Asshole.”

Monday: “Slut.”

Sarah: “ENOUGH! I’m getting up, but I still hate you.”

I have officially turned into a cat lady, except I don’t have cats. Instead I have a dog with a Twitter account. Yup, Daisy is online.

She’s a naughty little puggy with far too much free time. If you’re on Twitter follow her. If you’re not on Twitter I promise you that it’s worth signing up for. Where else are you going to hear about a pug violating a Bill Clinton doll?

I TOLD YOU SHE WAS NAUGHTY.

Now let’s pray she doesn’t write about all that farting she does.