To Paint a Fucking Toenail, First . . .

I don't know what the fuck is wrong with women who love painting their fucking toenails themselves. It's a BORING FUCKING TORTURE JOB that's impossible to get right.

First of all, do you realize you need to vacuum every square inch of your house first? Because if you don't, you'll get a fluff of pet fur or one stray hair or god knows what stuck in your polish unless you have someone to wait on you hand and foot for the hours it takes for the sticky shit to FULLY dry.

I'm also guessing bitches who love doing it aren't actually whores like I am who plan to take pictures of the painted toenails or have people actually suck them so maybe perfection isn't vital to them.

But perfection is vital TO ME, and I cannot fucking paint them perfectly myself. AGONIZING, bending over with my fat fucking belly in the way and trying to see. On top of that I have extremely tiny little toes and nails so the brush splayed out is way bigger than all but the nails on my big toes so it's really hard to stay on just the nail.

And you're just fucking dumb if you think you only need one layer of polish. NO. You need basecoat, two layers of color AND a topcoat if you want that shit to look yummy.

And of course you need to actually pamper your feet in between polishings so they are soft and moist without nasty peeling white flaky gross cracks and flakes and bubbles of skin. You need to scrub and saw at the soles of your feet with abrasive stones, brushes, sponges and more. And you have to clip and file and shape the nails and push back and trim your cuticles like you're a motherfucking sculptor of dead tissue and do a good job so they all look uniform. And shave your legs and tan and be perfect in every other way because what's the point of having beautiful feet if your hair is a greasy blob of dirty blonde?

My point is, decorating yourself in a "feminine" way is a shitload of work connected to OTHER work, all stacked up on top of each other and consuming more fucking time and requiring more patience and skill than is popularly acknowledged. You get the impression from societal attitudes and pop culture that painting your toenails is the same as lying around eating bon bons but LET ME TELL YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!! IT IS NOT!!!!!!

******NOTE: I have really really bad PMS right now and seem incapable of getting anything done because NOTHING IS EASY!!! Even the shit you're led to believe is "fun" and "simple" . . . even a stupid GIRL can do it!! That shit is a fucking lie that degrades the beautiful art of self-decoration that so many women practice and master all for the reward of being dismissed as superficial. I feel like stomping on people's heads right now.

Mini Water Heater

We have this stupid mini water heater; it's not even half the size of a regular one. It fits under the kitchen counter.

I'm not big on personal cleanliness like most overzealous Americans, but I *do* like to take a hot shower after spending hours housecleaning. This is, however, impossible since all of the hot water has been used up on cleaning.

Tonight, because I have PMS, this makes me feel like crying. I *hate* when my body smells like I'm a fucking maid. I hate my hands being all destroyed from hot water and bleach and stuff (and I can't WORK with gloves on my little hands . . . I need to feel what I'm doing in order to do it right).

After I clean up dirty stuff I want to get it all off of me, especially before I go to sleep at night.

PMS

I had almost zero desire to blog here while I was on the pill (hormonal birth control).

Now that I'm taking a break from it? BOOM!! I can't stop thinking about stuff to bitch about. I feel just incredibly irritable, paranoid, cranky and unable to cope.

Cleaning GARBAGE

Okay, I pretty much hate housecleaning in general, but the absolute worst kind of housework is cleaning GARBAGE. You know, like prepping the recyclables by washing tin cans, plastic containers, etc.

There is no worse use of my time than WASHING something before I THROW IT AWAY. Fucking HELL!!!!!!

Of course, what I really hate I suppose is how much disposable shit is in our lives and the accompanying guilt. It's a weird and horrible conflict, the desire for convenience and supposedly less work (or less of the boring, soul-sucking HOUSEwork) versus the desire for, you know, a beautiful world. I wonder at the end of the day whether or not any of the conveniences DO result in less work at all. Sometimes I feel like I'm just drowning in garbage-shit.

In a way I wish I'd have grown up learning/being forced to cook, can, garden, etc. so that those things were second-nature to me as an adult. My grandma did can and stuff but I never LEARNED any of it and I'm not someone who figured out how to cook just by watching women do it. Still, I really don't think that's what I was put on the earth to do (cook, clean, and just try to sustain myself).

Mostly when I feel this way my outlook is bleak; the only alternative seems to consume next-to-nothing otherwise I don't know how to lead a sustainable life without losing every morsel of freedom to do the things I find most pleasurable and creative. No, I could never be fulfilled leaving behind a legacy of "had an okay garden some years, eventually mastered salsa-making and cooked soups reasonably well once she hit her sixties".