Ever since I started watching I Love Lucy and Leave It To Beaver with my mom when I was 8, a small, secret part of me has always wanted to be a housewife that cleans and cooks all day, wears pretty dresses, and lives to please her man. It seems like it'd be a nice, comfortable life during which I would have ample time to read all the books I could get my hands on. That being said, one time, in the ten minutes I had to wait for something to centrifuge in the lab, I ended up reorganizing the entire lab bench so that everything was arranged by color. I'd be bored out of my mind as a housewife. But, pretending was fun! I wore my black-with-red-polka-dots dress with a little shrug, fabulous curls and makeup (red lipstick included, of course), and a flower pin in my hair. People liked it.
Also, quick update on the new hair and face regimen: Seems to be alright. I may have screwed up the preliminary results by being ill, stressed, and hormonal all at the same time this past week. However, my face isn't greasy from the oil-cleanse, so that's a plus. And the hair's looking greasy, like it should be at this point, but it's a weird greasy; thick and unmoving. I am waiting for it to get better. I hope it gets better soon, because...quite frankly, this is disgusting. And no amount of joy at not needing hairspray on my curls is going to change that.
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