Le Monde de Fromage de Kate

Though I have a longer entry in mind touching on recent interesting events in the household and holiday reminiscences and all that jazz, I’m not ready for it yet. Please don’t cry; I know you wait with bated breathe for my next entry novel. I do have these noteworthy tidbits:

• The GURU reigns true and mightily as always forevermore and tomorrow! Thank you so much for finding the requisite secret places. And curses on the wretched hackers who try to plague your existence. I spit on them; phhhht.
• The Cativity is ON SALE! Hurry now before the limited supply of “sweetly sculpted polyresin” has been depleted!
• This item has taken away any vestige of what scant innocent memories remain from my childhood.

  “Candy” Bra

  Moreover, it does NOT look very supportive. And I feel bad for the person who had to Photoshop® her nipples from between the rows of candy beads that make up this “sexy candy lingerie.”

• Less is more when it comes to hair products for one’s Kitten Children.

  Today I bathed them – after cutting their claws and shedding them – they still are keeping their distance from me.

  I still find the incongruity of the fact that my Kitten Children are completely fascinated by the bathtub and/or shower yet you’d think that giving THEM a bath was medieval torture at its best (worst?). They want to watch ME bathe. They’ll even drink soapy bathwater (yuck). They want to chase water from three ounce bathroom cups down the drain (I should explain this game some time). But God forbid I get THEM completely wet.

  So suffice it to say, despite my Father’s firm belief that any respiratory distress is caused by the Kitten Children (as opposed to POORLY TREATED ASTHMA – and PETTING THE KITTEN CHILDREN AND THEN RUBBING ONE’S EYES AND NOSE AND SUCH – WHICH IS JUST STUPID), I gave in to his badgering and attempted Operation Feline Bath (and if you don’t think it’s a major to do you’ve never bathed a cat).

  I got all five thousand towels at the ready, as well as their shampoo and Kevlar body armor for me (I wish). Then I got the BRILLIANT idea that since they get dandruff, especially when it’s so cold and dry, I should use the same treatment I use when I think my scalp is dry. My strategy is so use copious amounts of jojoba oil (theoretically the most like the natural oils in one’s skin). So I dumped jojoba oil on each FURIOUS Kitten Child and tried to really work it in. Oh how they loved that. Then I did the regular shampoo and rinse (and desperate wrestling while attempting to keep my voice soothing and evenly-modulated). I snuggled them in towels and tried to get them to sit by their favourite heating vents. But – OH – they were having none of it. They wanted to go far, far, far away from me and then “re-bathe” themselves (which somewhat defeats the whole purpose of the “allergy” wash since saliva is usually the most severe feline allergen anyway).

  Later, when I did catch a glimpse of each Kitten Child’s wee, resentful face, I realized that the simple shampoo would have been best (not to mention it would have made Operation Feline Bath SHORTER). They look like greasy porcupines. And you can tell that they detect a residue on their fur that they cannot seem to lick off (and I tell you – they are being persistent). I’m hoping the oil soaks in and they feel so luxuriously moisturized that they love me all the more. Or ever again.

Oh, Happiest of Happies on This, the Natal Anniversary Day of PAMELA!!!

Happy, Happy Birthday, Pam (rhyming with SPAM, of course)!

I love your birthday THE BEST. It reminds me that always, no matter what, I can forever and until the end of time count on the fact that you are almost a month older than I. I don’t know why that comforts me, but you are generous and will let me have that one, yes?

And remember the olden days? You don’t? Well here it one of them:

Kate, Pam & Janet at Stewart Falls
Circa LATE 80’s or EARLY 90’s

Yes, I’m breaking my “no photos of Kate taken after 1973 or so” again, but I figure my identity is sufficiently obscured by the large sunglasses and the LARGE hat (?). Besides, that WAS a lifetime ago – at least it seems so. I’ve no doubt that Stewart Falls is now covered in condos or town-homes, as if I remember correctly, the last time (another lifetime ago) we hiked in the area there were bulldozers in the forest glens ’round about. How depressing.

Forget that part, okay? Just remember HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

P.S. Yes, the weird, slightly disfiguring smut on your nose is part of the picture. I think you still look beautiful. Besides, at least you aren’t wearing jodhpur’s evil cousin, MOST HIDEOUS AND UNFLATTERING PANTS OF DEATH. Here’s an interesting anomaly: I haven’t the vaguest idea when that picture was taken, but I remember when I purchased that sweater at the United Colors of Benetton Outlet store in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Go figure.

I suck. So?

Ah. Strike New Year’s resolution about being less defensive and self-deprecating otherwise it will snowball over the one about feeling like less of a failure and lay it FLAT. So to the gist:

Happy Birthday on THE DAY BEFORE YESTERDAY, Lovely Terry! I’m thinking about you and wishing you and yours the very, very best.

Happy Birthday YESTERDAY, Erik. Please know that I knew yesterday was your birthday (while it still WAS yesterday and corrected Mom who was thinking it was – some other day, I guess). Also, I’ll keep this entry DELIBERATELY SHORT so that you will deign to read it. LOVE YOU!

Anders, Erik, Janet & Leif

And lastly, but certainly not LEASTLY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TODAY, LITTLE JANET, MY LITTLE, WEE SISTER!!! Tu est une petite fleur! Moreover, I will say in front of you and the WORLD, you never “8” New York. Not even once. May all your dreams come true (speaking of which, how’s the fifty-three member all-male fire rescue choir coming?)!!! I love you!

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: My Mother receives almost every catalog available in the known Universe. As some of you know, last holiday season I had grand aspirations of using her vast library as fodder for clever and thoughtful gift ideas. I look back on what I compiled, and I find it rather VERBOSE and consisting mostly of English foods with names that I find amusing. This notion was corroborated by the fact that last year Grettir AND The Blobby Farm both trumped me with cleverness and brevity. And what’s more, each accomplished this in a single entry (well, two for Grettir if you want to count this golden oldie).

Nonetheless, if you want to browse through last years “prime” gift picks (there’s a link in the sidebar as well), please do so. NO – I will not guarantee that any of the links are current. If they are broken, please just look at the pretty pictures.

Despite what I’ve just said, I can guarantee two things:

1. Blobbies STILL and forevermore make people happy. I promise. Cross my heart and all that jazz.
2. I think perhaps the “Twelve Dickies of Christmas” was mildly amusing. Well – at least the fact that I FOUND twelve separate assorted dickies is a little funny in and of itself.

That said, notwithstanding the fact that I bagged the idea of “Kate’s Holiday Gift Ideas du Jour 2006” several months ago, I still browsed through stacks and piles and heaps of catalogs. This is, more often than not, an amusing pastime. Occasionally, though, one finds reason to be quite terrified.

This holiday season I was genuinely alarmed by the profusion of Nativities (Crèches – call them what you prefer) featuring – hmmm, let’s say “non-human” characters. Yes, indeed – I found teddy bears (fuzzy), snowmen, teddy bears (poly-resin), frogs and a few others that must have scared me so much that I’ve blocked them out completely. I would always show them to my Mother and tell her that I’d found the PERFECT Christmas gift just for her.

I should probably put this in context: In case you do not know, I am very hard to offend. And kitschy, tacky catalog items ordinarily amuse me. Moreover, to put this an even clearer perspective: I LOVE Life of Brian. I think it’s uproariously funny and don’t consider it the least bit blasphemous. In short, I am about as far from a right-wing religious conservative as you can get.

Yet I find the representations of the “Holy Family” as reptile or canine or ursine creatures to be CREEPY. This, apparently, brought out my Mother’s devious side.

One day there was a notice about a package that they wouldn’t deliver without someone home to accept it. Says she, “Oh no – they wouldn’t leave your ‘Get ready for Christmas’ present!” My Mother is the Queen of All Holidays, so it’s not strange that there were “Get ready for Christmas” gifts this year.

I did not have to wait very long to find out what festive surprise lay in store for me. The next evening I came home to found the following collection artfully arrayed on the dining room table:

It’s scary, yes, but I must admit that it’s hysterically amusing, too. I was going to try and take a picture of my ACTUAL Cat Nativity (my “Cativity”), but Fiona wanted to lounge voluptuously on the box behind it, which I’d wanted to artistically drape with black fabric (okay, with a jacket – it’s not like I’m Annie Freakin’ Leibovitz). So I stole the image from the merchant.

I cannot say I’m sorry, though, because when I searched for the picture I also found this description of the Cativity:

Sweetly sculpted of polyresin, each of these 9 figures is beautifully hand painted and delightfully detailed. Set includes Mary, Joseph, the 3 wise cats, shepherd cat, little drummer cat, angel cat and, of course, the baby kitten curled up in his makeshift crib. Largest figurine measures 4 3/4″H x 2 1/2″W x 2 1/2″D. Stable not included.

That’s right, no stable (and if you don’t know already, cats LOVE containers). I’m considering a surreptitious removal of my Mother’s LLadro Crèche figures from its satin underpinning and dazzling backdrop and replacing them with my Feline “Holy Family” and ensemble.

Last but not least, a disclaimer: If you like or worse, hold dear, any of these things I’ve just ridiculed, bear in mind I adore many things that others would find worthy of ridicule. I do not scoff at YOU – I’m mocking your STUFF. Everyone to their own tastes. Right?

*Hah! You thought I meant “cavity.” Coincidentally, I did have a cavity filled last week, but this was a very deliberate “CATIVITY.”

There were felines abiding in the field, keeping watch over their treats by night. And, lo! The eerie Cat Angel came upon them, and it scarily hissed round about them, and they were sore afraid.

Happy Birthday, Dearest Shirleen, Happy Birthday, You YOU. I’m truly sorry about your esophagus and your lungs and the pleurisy and the hiatal hernia and the special test cards whose purpose I shan’t mention here and the work turkeys. I chose them all ESPECIALLY as surprises for your Birthday, but you haven’t seemed to be very excited about them…

Shirleen, Janet & Kate

I believe this picture is circa 1972. Yes, Shirleen was the “pretty” one and I was the “cute” one. Therefore (in my literal child’s mind), she was beautiful and I was ugly. OH, THE BAGGAGE!

My Mom STILL feels bad if we tease her about that one, because OF COURSE she didn’t mean it the way we interpreted it. Oh yes – and Janet somehow construed that she was ugly AND stupid. I don’t even know the origins of that. I suppose we could just go with the proverbial, “Girls, GIRLS – you were ALL pretty!” OR, we could just decide that we were ALL brainless and unattractive in order to be, perhaps, more egalitarian.

If it were not Shirleen’s Birthday I would tell you all about the mischief with which she got away because of her that angelic countenance. She could be very mean and oh-so-sneaky (in a fairly innocuous child’s way) to me and then her innocent appearance usually got her off the hook. Do not – DO NOT – trust her beatific exterior. It belies the fact that she is actually Miss Sneaky MacSneakster!

Wait – that was twenty to thirty years ago. Now she is by far one of the most generous and honorable people I know. Damn.

Oh – imagine that – I DIGRESS. What I wanted to say (again), was HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BIG SISTER! I especially like the last part because it reminds me (and you) that I’ll never, EVER be older than you. But in a nice way… I LOVE YOU!

P.S. Dearest Lil’ Chris, A Hipy Papy Bthuthdth to you, too!

Nano technology has produced a guitar no bigger than a blood cell. The guitar, 10 micrometers long, has six strummable strings.

Not only did he use the term “herewith,” which one just HAS to love, the Gentleman Author of bumppo.net managed a parade of FOURTEEN different cheeses through his kitchen in only a few days time. This is a turophile triumph.

My only criticism is that his cheese selection is a little pedestrian. Oh – my second criticism (only one, TWO criticisms of the Fourteen-Entry Cheese Parade) is that “those little cheese rounds that come wrapped in red wax,” which he eventually identified as edam – with a link to DUTCH edam – are a version of FRENCH edam from The Laughing Cow Company® – a French company, naturally. The small rounds are from their “Babybel®” line. “Original” Babybel® comes covered in the familiar red wax. In my opinion (as a NOTED Turophile), Babybel® “edam” doesn’t have the extra “bite” of Dutch edam. I think it tastes more like gouda (originally Dutch as well) – which, ironically, they also make, but shroud in uglier wax so that everyone buys the RED WAX kind so that they don’t taste the “gouda” and have to decide that it tastes more like… Okay, I haven’t had THEIR gouda, only the “original” Babybel® rounds, so I could not, in all honestly, render an expert opinion.

In conclusion, THIS is the Wikipedia link he should have used. But anyone who can hold a cheese cavalcade of FOURTEEN cheeses in just a few days should be lauded and honoured.

Hence, a vast Huzzah to the CHEESE PAGEANT WINNER FOR NOVEMBER! All fitting lauds and honours are duly conferred upon you.

Many thanks to Grettir for the “heads up.” I’ve had some reason to doubt his existence at the moment, but who else would be thoughtful enough to forward me great cheese links from his email address. A most clever body-snatcher THEY’D have to be.

I just thought give you an update on my first day teaching music hour for Leif’s Kindergarten class (from which he was ABSENT today – Janet claims strep throat, but I think she just wants him to have as little of my influence as possible). As I’d mentioned in the comments to the previous entry, I couldn’t “WAIT to terrify a bunch of five-year-olds with slightly tenuous control of their bladders.”

Fortuitously, several friends came through with some excellent suggestions. Zina suggested:

You should tell the kids that that’s what happens to you when you do drugs.

Yes, INDEED. Though I’m not sure I’d know how to explain dangerous TOPICAL chemicals, such as thioglycolate, to that age group (even though I also ended up with the more (theoretically) sophisticated first-grade class as well – only TEN kids – private school ROCKS).

Jenny was MOST helpful:

Just wear a neckerchief over the lower half of your face and sing cowboy songs or “She’ll Be Comin’ ‘Round the Mountain” or something like that. Use the little sand-paper blocks for the train sounds, and dowels to make the horsey clip-clop noises and let them gallop around the room. And ALWAYS pass out some sort of sweets at the end. The point is to draw as much attention away from your grossly, appallingly disfigured visage as possible.

…I’m afraid that if you don’t create a major distraction the entire class will spend all of “music time” staring at your big ol’ sores with their mouths hanging open and glazed, half-horrified/ half-fascinated looks on their faces.

NOTE: I have expurgated her self-deprecating remarks (here, anyway) because she has not SEEN my current facial situation, and she has the visage of an angel, damn it.

Here’s an irony: I’d actually considered (okay – WISHFULLY imagined) using some kind of stereotypical “far east” face veil. You know – those mysterious ones that obscure the bottom of your face. AND, as in the movies, you must make bedroom eyes while wearing one and cast ostensibly bashful sidelong glances (surreptitiously imbued with unadulterated LUST and SEX) at attractive males. Oh – and you have to wear “harem” pants.

While I do have zils, I do NOT have a face veil nor harem pants. Moreover, I don’t know any old Turkish music (circa the Ottoman Empire). Okay – I don’t know any NEW Turkish music either. Nor do I have any ancient Persian songs in my repertoire.

I do, however, own a bandanna, as well as an instrument that makes a train whistle sound, claves, AND sandpaper and wooden blocks and I can ACTUALLY REMEMBER THE LYRICS to She’s Comin’ Around the Mountain. I can also gallop. So why didn’t this much more LOGICAL option occur to me?

Well, it’s because, as I recently explained to someone, “Kate Logic” has half the fat of “regular” logic. And logic “lite” (I’m not especially fond of that spelling/term, but it seemed apropos here) has all the TASTE of “regular” logic, but substitutions have been made in the ingredients for the sake of the health-conscious. OR, the product has been whipped and whipped so that it contains many tiny air pockets, therefore rendering a serving lower in calories. “Kate Logic” is like that, too.

But, getting back to the music class, playing “cowgirl” today would have been a rather inappropriate choice, as it turns out that today was “Native American” day. They’d been learning all about Native American culture and history, and when I arrived they were all decked out in headbands, “leather” vests made of brown grocery sacks, and strings of beads. Their endeavor to be multicultural and P.C. might have made “Kate the Cowgirl” seem insensitive.

In the end, I started the class by introducing myself, and then promptly acknowledging that that they were probably curious about my face, as I would have been, and that I’d had an allergic reaction to some cream I’d used and it had made sores on my face. I added that it was NOT contagious, no one could “catch it” from me.

Their response was less than “Ho Hum,” it was non-existent; they couldn’t have cared less. Instead, someone immediately wanted to know if I could do magic tricks (alas, not in my skill set) and said something to the effect of “wouldn’t it be cool if I could make something disappear.” (OOOOH! Like my HIDEOUS FACIAL LESIONS or my PERSONAL DEBT or my DEBILITATING DEPRESSION or – even better – WARFARE, POVERTY AND DISEASE THROUGHOUT THE WORLD? Of course he meant like a coin or a rhythm shaker…) And they ALL were desperate to know what was in the egg shakers I’d brought. For those who have not seen me perform with breathtaking skill utilizing my vast rhythm egg collection, they usually look something like this:

I made them patiently wait to find out. You’d have thought their little lives depended on knowing about those silly eggs. Ah – that age before you are jaded, cynical and world-weary; I long for the time in my life when simple pleasures were enjoyed so effortlessly.

Oh – P.S. We had a great deal of fun. The children were delightful.

I thought I should try to explain why I HAD this potentially hazardous product (as though it somehow mitigates the imprudent circumstances under which I injured myself with it). When Sarah was between rounds of chemo, she’d grow head stubble (because her hair, like I said, has magic beanstalk properties). The fuzz irritated her to no end. Because she had a Central Broviac® Catheter, she was not supposed to shave or use scissors or brandish a cleaver at herself, so I saw ran across this product in the store and thought it might be a solution to her problems:

Here’s the product endorsement:

VEET® FACIAL CREAM KIT

Specially formulated for smoothness and long-lasting results, the new VEET® Facial Cream Kit has a gentle depilatory cream and moisturizing cream which are clinically proven to minimize irritation.

Both creams condition your skin with rich shea butter. The kit also includes the VEET® Perfect Touch Hair Removal Spatula for easy application and removal. It’s designed for easy, mess-free use, with smooth edges that protect delicate facial skin.

Take the sensitivity out of facial hair – in more ways than one – with the new VEET® Facial Cream Kit.

As is turns out, Shirleen broke the rules, and used her years of experience as a former dog groomer to gently and carefully shave Sarah’s head. So the “Facial Kit” has been in one of my bathroom drawers for ages.

It occurred to me that it might be the IDEAL product to take the essentially invisible peach fuzz off my face (Ladies, if you haven’t hit your mid twenties or later – just you wait – you’ll get more furry, I assure you). It sounded like using this product was as easy and soothing as gently caressing wondrously soft wee sleeping kittens on your face and then smoothing on sumptuous cream that gave you a visage rivaling the finest and most luxurious silk.

Is it redundant to say I really should know better?

I did read the instructions carefully. However, I disregarded the part about doing a patch test “in a small area and waiting 24 hours before using product to ensure you have no adverse skin reactions. Contains thioglycolate.*” Believe it or not, though I am Kate the Safety Dog, I don’t ever patch test or strand test – not with skin products, not with detergents and such (to see if they dissolve or discolour fabric OR cause fatal allergic reactions). I realize that this is incongruous, but in addition to being Kate the Safety Dog, I am wont to be EXTREMELY IMPATIENT at times

Thus, I jumped right on in. In accordance with the instructions, I spread a “thick coating” of the depilatory cream on clean, dry skin. I did NOT rub it in. Ah – a noticeable tingling stinging sensation…

That’s when things got dicey. I’d already disregarded the patch testing section under the “CAUTION” section on the box. I’d also read this “caution”:

If discomfort and irritation occurs during use, remove the product immediately and rinse area with cold water.

In most circumstances, the recommended length of time to allow the product to remain on your skin is UNDER five minutes, ten minutes maximum. I was aiming for the minimum. Regrettably, three to four minutes is not a long time to muse about what constitutes genuine “discomfort” and/or “irritation.” I clearly have a high tolerance for physical “irritation” and/or “discomfort” OR I rationalize to an absurd extent. Perhaps BOTH.

The next step was to remove the cream with the magic VEET® spatula.

The soft ends of the spatula gently glide over the contours of the face, ensuring that the hair is effectively removed.

How FUN; I just love tools! I started to “gently glide” over my face with the magic spatula. I knew instantaneously that I was in trouble. As I insinuated previously, I am NOT a wimp, but each stroke of the the spatula caused me to cry ALOUD with profound and horrific pain. It was something to the effect of, “Ouch, ouch, OWWWWW, OUCH, OUCH, [insert your choice of profanity here], OUCH OUCH OUCH, AHHHHHHHHHH, OUCH, [insert something so vulgar here that sailors all around the world blushed], OOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!!.” It was like removing several layers of one’s epidermis with a butter knife.

THEN it was time to “wash off residue using cold water.” I was astonished to find that it was WORSE than scraping the cream off with the “gently gliding” spatula. This process, as you would expect, caused another loud burst of similar…oration as aforementioned.

After “patting” my face dry (believe it or not, I was still attempting to follow the directions), I applied the moisturizing cream. VEET® said, “Moisturizing Facial Cream is enriched with Vitamin E to leave your feeling beautifully soft and smooth.” Is that so? I believe, instead, that the opaque nature of this substance (at least when you first apply it) serves as a kind of spackle to hide the hideous sores and lesions that may have resulted from the treatment; then one doesn’t go into immediate shock. The cream hurt like hell, too.

I have learned SO MUCH (as usual, the hard way). Another caution from the package is, “After use, wait 24 hours before applying an antiperspirant, perfume or astringent lotion.” Believe me, there was NO CHANCE WHATSOEVER that I was going to apply “astringent lotion” to my face. If water and AIR hurt my face, anything astringent was RIGHT OUT. I am just not enough of a masochist as to splash gruesome sores with – say – isopropyl alcohol. Yes, call me “WIMPY” and while you’re at it put a hold on those bamboo splinters to shove under my fingernails.

The embarrassing thing (as usual) is that it was my fault. It says – IN BOLD – right on the package, “Failure to follow use directions and precautions may result in chemical burns.” They ain’t whistlin’ Dixie.

True enough, some people might choose to blame repulsive disfigurement on the product, but I believe the old adage, “A bad carpenter blames his tools.” Wait – or is that, “A crappy artist shouldn’t blame the paint.” No… Maybe it’s, “Blame YOURSELF, not your TOOL, Guys.” You get the idea.

Here’s a case in point. While I was searching for an image of the VEET® Facial Cream Kit I ran across a complaint registered with the Consumer Complaints Division of the U. S. Department of Health and Human Services, U. S. Food and Drug Administration, Center for Food Safety and Applied Nutrition, Office of Cosmetics and Colors. There, in a table of adverse reactions to various products, was a complaint for THIS VERY PRODUCT. They have numbers indicating the “Code Injury Complaint” and the “Code Body Part.” These were the two “Code Injury Complaint” i.d.’s indicated:

14 Dermatitis (to include rash, redness, swelling, blisters, sores, weeping, lumps, inflammation, sunburn, chemical burn, and irritation)

19 Pain (to include itching, stinging, burning, soreness, and tingling)

Sounds about right. EXCEPT, when I found out which “Code Body Part” designated, any sympathy I might have felt for the complainant evaporated. They had put the product all over their LEGS. Mind you, though this product (theoretically) shouldn’t cause a problem with leg hair, it is intended to be used on relatively small areas at one time (hence “facial”). There’s no WAY you could apply it to your legs and remove it within the recommended period of time. Moreover, I sincerely doubt that they patch tested. What an idiot.

After my wanton disregard of the aforementioned cautions, I thought it best to continue to follow all cautions TO THE LETTER. And, since the package said, “If irritation persists consult a physician or call a Poison Control Center,” I called my doctor today (I mean yesterday). Luckily, I communicated with her THROUGH her nurse. I’ve suffered enough recent humiliations with my doctor – and I just love her – with a combination of stupid things that I did and with some potentially serious issues that I injudiciously let slide until they got to a point that they still might have some serious ramifications. And that’s all I’m saying about THAT, as the select few who HAVE heard about these issues have heard enough for the WHOLE WORLD (besides, the partially self-inflicted papule on my left breast has healed, and despite the temptation some days to do so, I am NOT going to blog about my nether regions. At least not right now).

My physician suggested cortisone cream, which I’m sure will help eventually, and I’m currently having some luck with “first aid & burn cream” (it has antiseptic to prevent infection AND it has Lidocaine, which is an analgesic).

Still, I had to spend the last two nights sleeping in a recliner with my head carefully positioned on my travel pillow so that my face didn’t have to touch anything. I am a side sleeper by preference, and finally today I fashioned a system with sterile, nonstick gauze (a great deal of it – to be safe – like my concept of how many napkins – that’s serviettes for the “foreigners” – I need to use) so that I could put the less severely burned portion of my face against a normal pillow and take a nap.

In conclusion, I have a list of a few of the critical things I’ve learned, as well as a few questions:

1. *Contains thioglycolate. ANY TIME that a chemical is mentioned in the DIRECTIONS and/or CAUTIONS (not just the ingredients) – even in such a casual way – that doesn’t bode well.

AND if they say even ONCE and especially if they mention MULTIPLE times a “Poison Control Center,” you are not dealing with something innocuous and mild like baby shampoo, “school” paste or whipped cream.

• Stinging or Tingling Sensation = VERY VERY BAD = ADVERSE REACTION
• If you do NOT have what might be called “Mediterranean” colouring and are, in fact, one of the WHITEST women in the world (SO white), leave the fuzz alone. It’s invisible; consider yourself lucky.
• If you feel desperately compelled to mess with it, at least be judicious and resist the temptation to use industrial strength chemicals. Please avoid self-mutilation.
• Facial chemical burns are extremely unattractive. When my voice student arrived yesterday morning I had to squelch my initial urges – which involved shrieking and dire warnings – and just left it at, “I have learned an object lesson; I should patch test. If you don’t want to look at me, I certainly understand. It’s gross.”I felt like going all Phantom of the Opera and screaming, “Don’t LOOK at me! I’m a monster – a MONSTER I tell you!!!
• Why, Grettir, did you know how to pronounce “depilatory” when I did not and why were we even discussing it? I don’t remember.
• Do you match the colour of your lipgloss to your outfit or to your chemical burns?