Beauty Is Pain

#5)  Epilady = Epic Torture

  When I was brainstorming things for my 30/30, I originally had laser hair removal on my list.  However, a friend from work convinced me to try an alternative.  For years she has been using something called an Epilady and swears by it.  She promised me that my legs would stay smooth and I would never have to shave again -- an idea that appeals to every female (and I guess male, too?).  I asked to cop a feel of her leg for some physical evidence and I must say -- quite silky.  Apparently you can't even see the follicles any more (the ones that even after you shave make it look as though the hair is instantly regrowing).  I was impressed -- but had one final question....how bad does it hurt?  I mean you're plucking every leg hair out, it has to be unpleasant.  NOTE:  She SWORE to me that it was at most, "uncomfortable".  Oh Leanne, you will pay for your dirty white lies.

  I headed to Target to purchase my Epilator (sounds inappropriate).  Just before I walked in, I made a promise to myself to only buy what I came for.  No detours to the clothing, jewelry, handbags, or athletic wear section.  You know how it is, walk in there to buy batteries and walk out having somehow spent $200 on stuff you in no way needed.  I bee lined to the razor section, spotted my Epilady by Braun ($100) but decided to opt for the cheaper Remington version ($60) because it was cuter and it came with an alternate head for "edging".  Pretty much looks like an electric razor and is equipped with a rotating head that has 40+ tiny tweezers opening and closing to pluck out each and every unwanted hair.  Eek!

Torture Device

  When I got home, I chose my left leg to be the guinea pig.  I wrapped it in a warm towel to "loosen" the follicles then put the Epilator to work.  Turns out, Leann is a MASSIVE liar.  The "slight discomfort" she described I would experience was more like Chinese torture.  I could barely finish a 2x2 area of my leg without having to take a break.  I decided to suck it up and forge onward with my hair removal process -- but I swear to God I was sweating, saying every word in the book -- and finally resorted to having a glass of wine in hopes of numbing some kind of nerves long enough to allow me to get to a hairless state.  After that experience I'd like to say -- whatever that "edger" is meant for will NEVER be attempted.  My leg looked like I'd been running through bull nettle -- it was red, inflamed, and on fire.  I decided my right leg would have to wait it's turn to be epilated at a later date.  I'd had enough self-inflicted pain for the day.

Left leg post-epilation -- photography does NOT do the damage justice

  Unlike Leann, I will not lie to you -- it hurt like hell.  However, I've done it several times since then and the first go around was definitely way more painful than the follow-ups.  And it does actually work so I guess you just have to decide if the benefits (hairless for life with no shaving) outweigh the costs (the feeling of microscopic lobsters pinching and annihilating your legs).  Note:  I do not advise you go running directly after you try it unless you like the sensation of having rubbed icy hot into an open wound.  Now go forth and epilate!

Solo At The Cinema

#4)  Movie Date...With Myself

  I can always find something to do, whether it be productive or not.  Many times I start off with ambitions of high productivity but quickly digress to other "more important" projects (like instead of doing all my laundry, I decide it's a higher priority to paint my nails).  Every now and again, when I'm in the mood to go do something, literally every friend I have is busy.  Since social norms have convinced us that certain social activities have a two-person minimum requirement, unavailable friends = night spent at home (cleaning, reading, writing, listening to music, playing the piano, or piddling idly around the house with a Law and Order: SVU marathon on as background noise....).  I recently decided that I would go against the grain and try one of those elite, "two-person only" social activities out all by my lonesome.  Lame? Or AWESOME?  (this will be your point to ponder my friend, I've made my choice -- it was a split decision).  So when the most recent "unavailable friends" night occurred -- I packed up me, myself, and I then headed to the theatre to watch Argo (which was really good by the way, even with Ben Affleck).  

Movie selected without difficulty...only one person involved

  

  Originally, I was going to head to a movie theatre that did not serve alcohol.  But on second thought, something sounded less lame about going to a movie by myself if I was having a beer while I was there (hindsight says: this may have actually made it more lame...meh).  Sounds weird, but I was actually a little anxious parking and walking in by myself.  (insert dumb self pep talk here)  Momentarily feeling like a social outcast, I made myself feel better by creating a list of reasons of why people would assume I was at the movies alone:  they will just think I'm meeting someone here, maybe I'm dropping something off for a friend, or I got stood up but went and saw the movie any way (at the time, even being stood up actually sounded better than just going alone).  In reality, I'm sure no one I passed on the way in thought anything about it -- if they even noticed me.

  Once I made it inside, movie tavern's lovely cashier (Herlinda) greeted me and asked "Just one ticket, dear?"  I laughed and said, "Yes, just one ticket but two beers."  She laughed, more AT me and less at what she THOUGHT was a joke.  Joke was on her though -- because I did in fact want two beers.  I told her about my 30/30 blog and she volunteered to take my picture, as well as offered to come and sit with me when she was off her shift (outreach program for the solo movie-goer).  Odd, yet nice.  I politely declined as I explained her accompanying me would defeat the purpose of my task at hand.  

Background selection and photography done by Herlinda

  I walked into the theatre for Argo, and I was seriously the ONLY person in the entire place.  At first I was relieved, but then once the lights went off I was freaked out.  I'm kind of a scaredy cat and throughout the entire film I kept looking over my shoulder every time the projector made a noise.  Theatres are scary when you roll solo -- fact!  I nestled in with my Blue Moon(s) and made a point to remember the movies from the previews that I always want to see but can never remember once I leave.  (example:  This Is 40 with Paul Rudd...done.)  I'm going to be honest -- I don't do well with suspense and half way through the movie I had to get out my phone and google what happened to the 6 hostages.  Some say spoiler, I say sanity.  

Empty theatre = Death Trap...

  I thought going to the movie by myself would be just short of knitting at home on a Saturday night, but turns out, wasn't a big deal and I actually enjoyed it.  No one to interrupt your movie watching experience when they get back from the bathroom and whisper in your ear, "I'm lost.  Explain to me what I missed"; no one's phone playing Lil' Wayne because they forgot to put it on silent, no argument over the choice of the movie or the time -- all smooth sailing.  Not saying I'm going to make this a regular occurrence, but this experience gets a thumbs up from me.  Cheers to movie-going independence!  

Gamblin' Granny

#3)  Choctaw Nation

Choctaw: Durant, Oklahoma

  I'm not a big gambler -- maybe because I suck at it and/or don't have delusions that I'm going to walk out of the casino at the end of the night carrying sacks of cash.  I've been to WinStar and Vegas with friends when I was in college.  I usually played Blackjack -- with the exception of the time I branched out to play craps and in my first roll, accidentally threw the dice off the table.  That is NOT how you make friends while gambling.  Lesson learned.  I did a quick fade out and opted to just enjoy my free adult beverages the remainder of the night.  My grandmother, however, is a different story.  She is a gambling queen -- loves the races, roulette tables, slot machines -- and doesn't get to do it near as much as she would like.  For a while she has wanted me to take her to Choctaw -- so I thought as part of my 30/30 I would take my sweet Mamie to throw some money into the wind.  I loaded her up, along with my mom (after a lot of convincing) and my cousin.  Three generations headed to Durant, Oklahoma for some late night debauchery.

Three generations of fun/trouble on the loose....

  Talk about putting some pep back in someone's step -- you should have seen my grandmother transform into a "regular" at the casino as she cruised around trying to find her lucky game of the night.  After asking every single employee whether or not they had the old "pull arm" slot machines and responding with equal surprise each time they said they didn't have those any more -- we finally settled on electronic roulette.  She was like a kid in a candy store and looked so cute!  I made the mistake of taking a picture and within seconds a very large man morphed out of nowhere.  He did a little jacket pop then introduced himself as head of security.  He informed me photos weren't allowed, which I knew but "forgot".  On top of "forgetting", I was dumb enough to take it directly in front of the security booth.  Well done, genius.  I apologized, but he told me I needed to delete it.  I wish I was smart enough to know what you gain from a photo like that and I'd be rich -- but sadly, I don't have that con artist mentality....

Hop Scotch (aka best grandmother ever)

  I made a round by the Blackjack table, then refused to play the slot machines with my mom.  I stand by the statement that it is not only the most boring way to gamble, but also the most pointless way to lose money.  I made my way back to Mamie, who already had a drink in hand.  She was laughing and hitting almost every button on the touchscreen to place a bet (always including the number 33 which was my grandfather's football number -- awww!).    Each time she would win, but she would place so many bets initially it would almost be a wash.  She was oblivious to this fact, however, and every time got really excited like she'd won the lottery.  At one point, she was up by like 80 bucks.  Some people say "walk away while you're up" -- whereas my grandmother's motto is "my winnings are meant to prolong my playing time".

Mamie building a strong (hilarious) case for dancing...

 After a few hours, we were ready to go -- but Mamie was still going strong.  We finally had to cut her off and cash her out by force.  As we were walking out, we passed the stage where the band was playing.  When we didn't stop, she looked at me completely confused and said "Well aren't we at least gonna dance?"  She was ready to go full throttle with the jitter bug.  Little old Mamie outdid us all -- from winnings to energy -- and I'm convinced she is the coolest grandmother on the face of the planet (obviously I'm a tish biased).  Since we didn't stay later at the casino or dance, we compromised with a late night margarita at Taco Cabana.  When we got home, she informed me that she still had one request -- that I promise to take her gambling each week.  Negotiations are still pending....

Mamie = Winner........Emily = 50 cent token fail

  

Old People and Football, Baby -- That's How We Do!

Roaring 20's

  I decided that while working on my 30/30 list, I would fill in the gaps with stories of the shenanigans from the past decade of my life.  I have acquired quite a collection of these little gems over the years through dating, traveling, an absolutely hilarious group of friends, a family that has their roots in humor, and personal endeavor epic fails....Since the statute of limitations for any judgement of these stories is officially over on December 2 (in my mind) I thought it would be okay to go ahead and put them out there.  So enjoy these throwback snippets.....

  I went to Texas Christian University during undergrad (GO FROGS).  With TCU homecoming this weekend, I thought it would be appropriate to share an experience from one of the first few football games I went to.  I transferred to TCU from University of Alabama and fell into a group that was crazy, spontaneous, and full of great wit and humor.  I couldn't have hoped for better friends.  I was meeting them at the TCU football game one Saturday (have no idea who we played -- but I'm sure we won) and was running late.  Apparently choosing between several similar purple articles of clothing is a difficult decision making process.  By the time I got to the game, they were already sitting in the student section -- which let's be honest, that's like searching for Waldo on the last page of the book where all the people are Waldos and you have to find the only one that has the complete Waldo outfit (still never found him, haunts me to this day).

 

  I walked into the stadium and started heading up the stairs to our usual section.  I was holding onto the railing of the stairs while crowd surfing the sea of purple -- not paying attention to anything but the people in the stands.  All of a sudden, that rail gave way and I almost completely fell over.  I looked down in my hand, expecting to see the rail there, except it was a carved wooden stick.  I was completely confused at this stage, glanced at the bottom of the "stick" and saw a small, rubber stop.  At this point, with the same face you had after you tried to analyze the movie Inception, I looked up and met the glaring eyes of a man -- a very, very old man -- about 80 give or take?   The light bulb went off as I realized instead of the stair rail, I had grabbed this old man's cane out from under him.  Literally jerked it out from under him.  And I'd like to point out for those questioning minds, I was in fact completely sober.  I immediately started apologizing and tried to explain to him what happened (still holding his cane at this point), but that furrowed brow and wrinkled old face offered no forgiveness.  I single-handedly reinforced and confirmed the "kids these days" stereotype to older generations everywhere.  As I walked off, cane returned and still apologizing, he never stopped staring at me with that look of utter disdain and disapproval.  I'm sure I ruined his TCU grandparents weekend or something......I felt like the worst person ever!

In reality, he was much angrier and without a cane (obviously)...

  Of course I told my friends what happened when I finally found them in the stands.  They all died laughing.  I thought it was a funny story but would blow over.  But to this day, if we are in a group and there are some new people there, my friends (mainly just one...cough....LEVY) will tell these strangers who don't know me at all that I once took a cane from an old man, laughed in his face, then threw the cane down the stairs as he cried.  And while that is funny because we all know it's a joke, you can tell the new people aren't quite sure what to believe and each time they look at me, it's with questioning eyes.  Makes for a comical story though and we had some good laughs about it through the years.  This weekend if I go to the game, I will make sure that I don't repeat history.... 

Disclaimer:  no old people were injured in the making of this story.....

  

Photophilia

#2) Photography 101

  I've loved taking pictures for a while, then with the evolution of Facebook and Instagram my picture-taking increased four fold (joke, well kinda).  I've always had an interest in taking photography up as a hobby.  However, I seem to have these great ideas about things I want to try with little follow through (I will not admit that to my parents, ever).  So when I expressed an interest in photography and was offered free lessons randomly, it was like the 30/30 mother ship was calling me home.  

 
My personal photography guru, Joel Galvan (above), is a creative jack-of-all trades.  He is a musician, artist, and photographer -- photography being his main passion.  He first got interested in photography during the pre-digital era.  Now he has gone full throttle with the camera technology of today -- which means I got to play with some bad ass equipment during the "skills" portion of my lesson.  

I wonder what this one does....(confident)

First, we had "class" which involved me actually taking notes and/or Joel stealing my pen to correct my note taking technique.  (Made me rethink the possibility of going back to grad school.....)  Then I had to tackle all those little buttons on the camera that I usually avoid like the plague.  The ones that have forced me to turn my camera off then back on because I accidentally pushed one and have no idea how to recover.  Crop factor, shutter speeds, aperture, ISO, WB ('white balance' for those of you that didn't know) <-- read this aloud with undertones of new knowledge superiority.  All these terms were both foreign and irrelevant to incredible amateurs such as myself.    I knew there would be a lot to learn, but I had no idea how much is involved with taking those cool, arsty pictures that I love so much.  Once Joel was sure my head was going to explode from all the information and/or coffee I'd consumed at this point -- it was time for the fun part!

Shouldn't have pushed that one...(defeat)

  We launched into our "skills" part of the day which consisted of walking around and taking pictures.  Location:  Deep Ellum, one of my favorite areas of Dallas.  Great art + great people = great for photos.  We shot everything -- vintage shops, graffiti, wall art, each other, plants, and the occasional accidental photo of part of my face or the sky taken by yours truly because I was still learning my way around the camera.  Note:  the cameras weighed a lot -- like big, metal babies hanging from your neck.  And if I'm being honest, when I woke up this morning my arms and chest were a little sore.  Time to hit the gym perhaps....pathetic.  I literally took hundreds of photos...and quickly figured out this was going to be an addiction for me.  LOVED IT!   

My very first photo attempt....

  Five hours of shooting; with a few breaks for beer, lunch, and the times when I would get side tracked in the vintage shops with my "oh, something shiny" mentality.  Joel was okay with my purchases of vintage buttons, jars, and bracelets -- as long as I was taking pictures of them.  It was an all-day affair and worth it.  From learning the skills, to shooting, to editing -- there is a lot of work that goes into all those great photos that we love so much.  I have a new appreciation for photographers and their artful eyes.  Below are a few of the photos I took, but all of them are on my facebook.  So have a looksy at the evolution of an amateur to an amateur + one day photographer!

Thai Time

#1:  Traditional Thai Massage (no happy ending)

  I've wanted to get a traditional Thai massage for a while now, not to mention that back problems have accompanied my aging process as of late.  Since Fort Worth does not offer much beyond the Cowtown culture, I trekked about an hour to this hole in the wall place in East Dallas.  Worth it though....

  When asked why I wanted to try a Thai massage by Chalida (below) I told her about my 30 before 30 list.  Her response: "Look too young to be almost 30!  You have kids?"  Apparently the expectation that you should have kids at 30 is global.  She told me she didn't mind when she turned 30 and that it wasn't that bad.  However, what she didn't enjoy was when she turned 45 and went through menopause -- so there's another milestone the ladies have to look forward to!  She is actually from Thailand and studied massage therapy at Wat Pho (the original school of massage in Bangkok) -- so what I'm saying is -- she is legit.  

Chalida Pheerathoranis

  I had a general idea of what to expect, but that doesn't mean that I was going to be completely comfortable the first time I had a tiny Thai lady start crawling the span of my entire body with her knees.  Hurt so good was on a whole new level at this stage.  Personal boundary issues were out the door within the first 30 seconds she went full hands on with my very inner thigh (tisk, tisk Massage Envy for neglecting that area).  She used her palms, thumbs, knees, elbows, feet -- basically her entire body to stretch and massage me.  At one point she was holding onto my ankles with both of her hands as she used her feet to walk along the inside of my leg.  Full circus act material.  

  

  At one point, I literally yelled out loud (justifiably, trust me).  When you've had almost an hour of rubbing, stretching, and gentle manipulation then out of nowhere Miss Chalida calls a technique audible and starts punching you in your shoulder and ribs it can be a little startling.  Of course she laughed at me and referred to me as being "too tender" -- pretty sure that was her nice way of calling me a baby.  There were a few times I wanted to laugh because I imagined what I must look like awkwardly contorted in the weirdest ways as she did her best to stretch my all-too-stiff 29 year old body.  Somehow I maintained my composure.  Below is my attempt to capture an awkward stretch. 

Awkward Stretch #52

  My left leg is Indian-style over my right thigh while she stand on the table and stretches me.  I was thinking two things at this point:  1) I am almost 100% sure my hip is about to be dislocated, and 2) God I hope I don't have a hole anywhere in my tights.  Per that last statement, in case you're wondering, you leave your clothes on for a traditional Thai massage and they don't use any lotion.  Important fact to know.  So when you are left alone in the room at the beginning don't start disrobing like you would normally do because things could get weird pretty quick.     

  If you've never gotten a traditional Thai massage - do it.  I already feel ten times better than I do after a massage any where else.  If you're a club member at some chain massage place, don't roll in expecting anything like that.  It is much more authentic and feels way better (as long as you don't mind someone walking on you and getting all in your mix).  Not to mention, you actually get a real FULL HOUR massage (gasp!) as opposed to the faux hour that has five minutes shaved off at each end.  If you want to try it, I'm sure Little Miss Chalida would be more than happy to literally walk all over you -- just let me know! 

Let it begin....

Thirty Before Thirty

The countdown to my 30th birthday has begun -- exactly 52 days until I am officially no longer a 20-something.  I realize I've had almost an entire year to deal with the fact that 30 comes after 29.....but I had the full epiphany/precursor to a midlife crisis meltdown over the weekend.  I got really introspective, as you do, questioning my life and thinking "I never thought I'd be almost 30 and  _______  (fill in the blank with society's imposed expectations of what you're supposed to have done by that age).  I gave myself a small grace period to wallow in self-deprecation and list everything I hadn't accomplished yet.  I elected to ignore the fact that my 20's were actually awesome so I could enhance that gloom and doom shadow I was hoping to cast on 30.  

While drinking a bottle of wine by myself (no judgement please, you know you've done it), I thought -- I really need to capitalize on the last days of my 20's so they can rest in peace when the 30's take over.  So I made a list of 30 things that I have to do before I turn 30 (thus, "thirty before thirty" -- redundant, I know).  Some of them are stolen from my bucket list, some I borrowed from other great minds, and some are audibles I called  because they sounded fun.  Should be a great segue to 30, and at the very least, a distraction from the fact that December 2 is getting closer by the day.......