Showing posts with label Eyebrows. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eyebrows. Show all posts

07 February, 2013

Two things

Firstly, my eyebrows are killing me.  Like, K.I.L.L.I.N.G me.  I've no idea why.  I did have to ask, on a cake forum, if anyone had er, noticed me falling over at Ger's surprise party.  Funny thing is, I thought I was stone cold sober (what with the stress of timing the surprise and all) but, I guess, if you have to ask 'did someone see me fall?' I think it's safe to assume you might have been slightly hammered.  Long story short, no one saw me fall but I still have a bruise across my forehead.  Odd.  Ger reckons she may have stood on them at some point . . .?  
But er, yeah.  Must have been the threading.  You get this list of 'dos and don't' when you get your eyebrows threaded but I've not read it since I first got them done.  Something along the lines of: no showering, no make up, no drinking, no sunbathing no . . . etc. etc.  You don't get a list that detailed from the blood bank when you give blood. 
The mind boggles and the eyebrows throb.

The second thing, and I'm only telling you this as a group of a select few reckon you'll wet yourselves.  Plus, as someone who once told you about Gertrude's little accident it would be wrong not to show myself in such a light.
A radio show (no, not telling, don't want you listening back) rang and asked me to talk about Education in Ireland and I said 'yeah, sure'.  So, on Monday morning at 9.50, I got a text from the station saying "you ready" to which I replied in the affirmative and legged it downstairs to get the house phone, better signal you see.  The phone then rang and I was told to turn off the radio and wait for T. . sorry, the presenter to introduce the topic and then me.  
That's when it went tits up.  Whilst I was holding I was also trying to get dressed.  But . . oh jesus . . . I had a tummy bug so ... the whole while I was taking to said T on the radio I was sitting, gulp, on the loo.  In.  The. Nude.  Pooping - aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh, trying not to poop actually.
Oh god!  Mortified.  Spent 10 minutes yapping very concisely as I was using the giggly part of my brain to stop my bum making noises.  Ger reckoned you couldn't hear me 'straining' . . nice eh?  Hahahah.  There never is straining, love, when you have no control.
The funniest part was, Gertrude listened back and sent me a text "my favourite line Niamh was when you said "Are you sitting comfortably (I was about to really launch into anti Dept. of Ed rant) T, because I know I am".  Cackle.  I was sitting alright but there was nothing comfortable about it.  
You know, my stomach feels a bit watery even as I type this.