Up Close and Personal and Sometimes Kinda Gross

I have this habit, as I've had most of my life, of examining every single part of my body, from the very top of my head to the very tips of my toes. My sisters and I used to drive my mom crazy when we were little because after examining ourselves, we would examine each other. She used to tell us we were like monkeys. I guess monkeys are always picking at each other. Unless, of course, she meant we looked like monkeys. And if that's the case, then geez...thanks mom.

 

I’m not quite sure what the fascination is, but there definitely is this strange attraction to certain occurrences that happen to the body. Take peeling sun burns, for example. How fun is it to peel off the dead skin from someone's sun burnt body? I mean, it's f**king gross if you really think about what you're doing, yet...I have never met anyone that didn't get a certain thrill from seeing just how long of a piece you could peel at one time. I've had contests with friends over this. I think the only thing that makes you realize how disgusting it is, is when you release that last little piece from connecting to the skin and don't know what to do with it. So you roll it in a ball between your thumb and index finger, let your arm drop down to your side, and let it slide out of your hand hoping no one saw you do that. Til you leave the area and there's all these little skin wads rolled up in a small pile on the floor.

And who doesn't love popping pimples? Ok, probably most people don't. But just saying "popping pimples" is fun. I had this friend, or maybe it was my sister, who used to love popping people's pimples. Ohhh...that's even more fun to say..."popping people's pimples". Try saying that 5 times fast. Makes a fun sensation on your lips. But there I go digressing again...anyway...whoever it was used to get such a kick out of the squirt following the pop. And the further the squirt, especially onto the mirror...the bigger the gratification. Ew...now I'm even grossed out.

I was never a nail biter, but cuticles are a whole other story. Have you ever tried to bite cuticles without pulling huge chunks of skin from your fingers? And pull them off so delicately that the skin is still smooth, not needing to trim them with a cuticle scissors? Sometimes I would catch myself gnawing away, realizing people are looking at me like I'm a bunny rabbit nibbling on a carrot. But I have to admit, I love seeing that one little, itty, bitty piece of skin that needs that one teeny nibble to come off.

On one occasion, when my daughter was young, I was staring at her like I always did, and still do, because I continue to be so amazed, even to this day, that I produced this child. But anyway, I noticed a spot of dirt on her chin. She was young enough where she would still allow me to wipe stuff off her face, so I took a tissue to wipe it away. It wouldn't come off, so I licked my thumb, and like every child loves their mother to do, tried wiping it away with my spit. It still wasn't coming off. I kept rubbing and rubbing, thinking maybe she got ink on her face. Finally, she was like "Mom, will you stop already." She went to look in the mirror and when she came back, she said "Mom...it's a freckle."  "It's a frickin' freckle?" I said. Of course I had to rub it a few more times to be sure. And to this day, I still kid her about her 'frickin' freckle' just because that's another alliteration I absolutely love saying. Try it...Frickin' freckle. It's fun. Ok...maybe I need a life!

Another fun activity is trying to remove an ingrown hair. Not mentioning where this hair might be located on the body, have you ever tried squeezing an ingrown hair til it pops out? Oh my god...so much fun. And the real prize is when it finally does pop out...it  could be like an inch long. And you're thinking...ew...how did that happen? Nothing is supposed to be that long on THAT part of my body. I always worry what will happen to me when I'm old and can't take care of my personal hygiene on my own. I remember my grandmother, [may she rest in peace], was in the hospital, and she said to me, "No matter what happens, make sure I have no stray chin hairs."  That left an indelible mark in my memory bank. 

           [This is not my Nana…just in case you were thinking it was from my family album]

Eyebrow tweezing is an art in itself. I could spend hours on my eyebrows. If you pluck just one eyebrow hair out from the wrong place, it can reshape the entire brow. Just one hair has that much power. Then you have to rethink exactly what shape you may want your eyebrows to take on. If you pluck out that one hair from the arch, it could make a huge difference in your facial expression. You could have a look of surprise because the arch is now too high. There are various facial expressions you could take on with just the shaping of the brows. They have an incredible command of the face; those brows.

On to the really gross stuff. Nose blowing. How great does it feel when you are all stuffed up and want so badly to release all that gunk out of your nostrils...and then comes the blow of all blows. That one blow that jet propels all the mucous that was stuck onto the walls of your nose holes, into the tissue. Like a cannon ball...boom...there it is in huge chunks and you can finally breathe. Great feeling, huh? C'mon...admit it. As disgusting as it sounds, now that you think about it, seeing what's in that tissue...kind of orgasmic, no? 

Have you ever cut your toenails so short there is no room for the nail polish? So you have to paint the end of your toe to simulate the nail? This is a monthly routine I have to say, I absolutely hate. Cutting toe nails. I had a friend who got so upset with me while we were on vacation because I was cutting my toe nails in front of her. She didn't talk to me the rest of the day. I had to shut myself up in a hot, hotel room bathroom just to clip my nails. She has toes. She has toe nails. Does she shut her eyes when she's doing her own and wear ear plugs? She couldn't stand the sound of the clippers. I checked her toes to see if her nails were 8 inches long because I found it hard to believe she would let anyone give her a pedicure. She probably kicked the nail technician in the face every time she would hear the sound of the clippers. What's wrong with toes and feet? I know quite a few people who have a foot aversion. I, personally, happen to have adorable feet.

So there you have it…from head to toe. There are so many other places on my body that are picked on and picked at, but I don’t want to bore you with more details than necessary. Nor do I want to open myself up to more ridicule than I have already. People say to me they don’t understand how I can be so open about myself and events in my life, both in my relationships and in my blog. I find it liberating and exhilarating. What’s the point of being alive if you have no one to share yourself with. I’m an open book with nothing to hide. You either like me for who I am or you don’t. Being private is like living a jail sentence in solitary confinement. You’re stuck with your own thoughts, all stuffed inside, waiting to burst out…and in my case…I’d rather have diarrhea than constipation.

***please note...none of the pictures contained in this blog are family members***