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A burn, a sprain, and no present makes Bahar a bitchy blogger.

August 10, 2010

I know, long title, right? Well it teetered on profanity, so I went with this…It all began 2 weeks ago, actually if u want to get precise, 9 years ago, but we’ll go with the more recent…I decided to dye my hair back to its natural color since my roots were now clearly visible…So instead of doing the smart thing, which is leaving it to the professionals, I waltz into Sally’s and pretend to know what I am doing. I’ve done this before, so no biggie right? Well, I bought the cream version rather than the liquid version…no big change, right? well I believe now, the cream version is meant to be applied with a brush rather than in the bottle, because after shaking the developer and cream dye for 5 minutes, it still wasn’t quite blended.  So I decide to just squirt it out and mash it all in my hair and lather it up like shampoo and surely it would mix right? Well, yes, you are right, it did work! But it also made a GINORMOUS mess. I don’t even know if that’s a word, but its my word for this particular situation. Good thing I picked up the Ralph Lauren bath mat and towels and moved them into the bathtub because dye was everywhere, which brings the culprit, the magic eraser, into play. I start wiping everything down with the magic eraser, and just like it promises, magically everything disappears! So while my hair is setting, I clean the sink, the floor, the door, the cabinets, yes, it was quite a mess, and when I took my gloves off, I had somehow managed to have dye on my hands still! So why not try the magic eraser on my hands? Well guess what, it works great! Now my hands are magically dye free. So I think why not wipe  my arms and shoulders off, so off I go, giving new meaning to the term sponge bath, and scrubbing away…Then I see the dye has now started to drip on my shoulders, so I wipe my shoulders off and decide, why not clean up my hair-line at the same time. Save me the time from searching for the vaseline…So off I go, scrubbing my forehead and temples and then the burning begins..My hands and arms and shoulders were fine but my face felt like I had removed 3 layers of skin. By this time its time to wash the dye out, so I start washing the dye out and the whole time am cursing under my breath because my forehead is now burning worse than ever. I hurry and wrap my hair in a towel and run to the mirror and my forehead and temples resemble Freddie Kreuger…I scream and run to the closet and immediately start applying sunburn ointments, dermaplast, anything I can find until the numbing medication starts to work. I decide that the triple antibiotic ointment is the way to go. Thankfully the hubs is still in his man cave smoking his cigar, and I don’t have to hear the “common sense tells you” speech. And so I go to bed with a new hair color, a little darker than my original and a shiny, wet, sticky forehead. The next morning, the hubs leaves for work before I get up, so I am in the clear and the forehead looks good, except for in the corners and the temple is still super raw. So I apply the ointment and go to work and hope no one notices..They noticed but were kind enough not to ask. Come home from work and the hubs still does not notice. Good deal, I guess. By this time, I start to wonder how often he really looks at me. Day three, we go to the market and that’s when he notices. In the middle of the meat department and I kindly respond to his, “what the hell happened to your face?” question by telling him when we get to the car, I will tell him. So, twenty minutes later in the car, I hear, “MAGIC ERASER?!?!? Common sense tells you not to use it on your face”. Anyone who knows me knows I have zero common sense.  But I have yet to check the damn magic eraser box to see if it says not to use on your face…Surely, I am not the first person ever to do this, right?

A week later, the burn is still there and its Maddy’s birthday. He is six and I order him a cake and somehow the teenager who answered the phone mistook a cake for 12-15 people for a cake for 2 -5 people. Ryan calls once he is home to say, this isn’t going to feed everyone….so of course I rant that common sense tells you to get another cake. So guess who ends up calling walmart and begs them to make a cake in 30 minutes for a party that’s going to start in 45 minutes? Me! So off to walmart I drive, in the 100 degree heat, and after picking up everything I had clearly forgotten, I start to load the car when something happens to my left wrist. It completely seizes up, and I literally can’t feel my ring finger and pinky! I try to rotate and immediately scream in pain and realize I have to drive home with one hand. Ok, no big deal, I can do this…but by the time I pull into my driveway, I am in tears and realize that making guacamole, and getting everything set up was going to be a challenge. I walk in and tell the hubs that I hurt my wrist and can’t move it and do I get any love or sympathy, no. I get barraged with questions as to how putting a cake and a bag of chips and paper plates can sprain my wrist. Let’s just take a moment to understand that I do not handle teasing well. Maybe its the Iranian in me, maybe its the fact that I have no sense of humor, its something, but let me tell you after the third degree burn on my forehead and a throbbing wrist, I have no patience for this senseless teasing. So I tell him to shut up and recognize the fact that I am in pain and need his brace. Does he go to find it for me or offer me some Tylenol, nope. So I beg the 6-year-old to go upstairs and fetch it for me, which he kindly does. He takes after me in that regard….after all the prep work is done for the burgers and hot dogs and the table is set, my hubs decides again, to interrogate me as to how I sprained the wrist in front of everyone in the kitchen. The fact that I am holding a knife and slicing tomatoes scares him nonetheless.  He begins to try a re-enactment of how I placed the groceries in the back of the car and did I twist it this way or that way, did I happen to use a magic eraser on it? The shit hit the fan and the only good news is the grandparents in the living room are pretty close to deaf so they couldn’t hear me screaming the “F” word, but everyone else in the kitchen did. I apologize for that, but you know what, show some god damn compassion. How about that? When everyone comes into the dining room to eat, grandparents, cousins, my mom, they all ask, “OMG what happened to your wrist?” and the hubs quickly tells everyone, “don’t ask! she’ll start screaming at you!”….yes, I love birthday parties…deep breath…

Fast forward two days, and still no apology regarding the wrist comments and yes, the brace worked and yes there is still some pain and restriction when I move it a certain way, but we are now celebrating our 9 year anniversary, and I am still holding a grudge (that’s the Iranian in me).  I purposely do not buy a gift or a card this year. I purposely do not reserve a sitter either or make reservations, because guess what, for the last 9 years that is what I have done…I think, all the hell he gave me with the magic eraser and wrist and all the pain I have endured, he will do something to make me feel special, he will do something to show his love….and guess what. He didn’t! Oh, he will argue that he made dinner. And I sound like a spoiled brat in replying that I didn’t want dinner. I wanted more. I wanted hugs, I wanted kisses, and I wanted to know why 9 years later he still loves my bitchy ass. So I didn’t eat his dinner, I didn’t say a word.  My wrist is better, my face is healing, but I am sad and mad and thus the title of the blog, I am a bitchy blogger.

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3 Comments leave one →
  1. August 10, 2010 6:10 PM

    Oh Har. I didn’t know about your wrist! Sheeesh. You’ve had a bad run of it. If I was there, we would get loaded on Sangria and go to the Spooklight. OK – maybe not go to the Spooklight, but we could get loaded. You would feel better immediately. But not as good as you do after you scare the shit out of me.

    Like

  2. Carrie Vanover permalink
    August 12, 2010 2:45 PM

    Oh Bahar! What a crappy 2 weeks! That really sucks about the head and the wrist-but I am especially sad about the anniversary:(
    Geez Rhyno!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
    Ya, I am w/ Ann. You should have ditched the hubs, came here, and we coudl have drank wine in the pool all day. You could have been so toasty you would have FORGOT it was your anniversary.
    Come see me soon:) I wont make fun of your forehead or your wrist.

    Like

  3. Jewel permalink
    February 24, 2011 2:45 PM

    Hi,
    Heard interview on, Tjms. Do you still need writers? I am interested!
    Please email me…Thanks

    Like

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