Showing posts with label embarrassing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label embarrassing. Show all posts

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Face Palm

You guys. Can we talk about my face wash?

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How is this okay? Should something that I apply daily to my skin alter the chemical composition of a common household textile? I use Proactiv each day and it seems as though the company has mistaken the classic formula for straight bleach.

I've run this washcloth through the washing machine accidentally with bleach before and it didn't have this effect. I wash my face wash off with it once and it looks like I've forgotten it in a pool with a toxic chlorine content for 48 hours.

The crazy thing? I need to keep using this bleachy bleach on my face because it never seems to be consistently working. Nice that they keep themselves in business that way. So is this my lot? Do I have to have horrendous skin AND it's going to burn off from the chemicals I lavish upon it each day? Woof. I think it might be time to just embrace the annoying skin I have and quit now.

I'm off to buy some white washcloths so I can live in denial about what I'm doing to my skin. Solidarity to all you other girls with blotchy gray towels. You hang that up in your bathroom with pride, sister.

Monday, June 18, 2012

Oops.

So today we started Institute! Ow oww! There was a LOT of information, a LOT of acronyms, and a LOT of sweating. Oh my goodness people I can't even begin to think how much that sweat will exponentially increase when I'm in a non-air-conditioned CPS classroom whilst nervously teaching reading and writing to sixth graders. But in case you needed a good laugh today, here's a story that should make you happy. Or at least feel good about yourself that you're a more competent human being than Anna Gesch. I live to please.

Backstory: We had sessions today from very early on with no real breaks. My bus left at 7:00, I woke up at 5:15, and I kind of ran around all morning until I got on the bus. Forgot to pee. Seems like a minor detail, but it isn't. It's important. I figured, "Meh, I'll just go sometime at the school site where we are getting trained." Dumb George Michael! (Arrested Development reference yet again.)

Real story: I'm all decked out in my "professional dress" (AKA a t-shirt tucked into a black skirt), and listening intently through all the session lessons for the morning. We talked about the racial landscape of Chicago, discussed who we are and why we are here as corps members, and learned about the TFA staff who is training us. We broke into teams of four that will be leading a classroom for summer school (I and another guy are teaching the language arts portion of our classroom! High five for avoiding the math content!). So basically, a lot of stuff was going on. We're about three hours into the day when we finally took a five minute break. All of a sudden, I realized...I am going to pee my pants if I don't haul potatoes over to the bathroom. So I awkwardly walk like a hunchback out of the room for the break and look for the bathroom. I follow a chick down a hallway who looks like she knows what she's doing (she was wearing a blazer after all) and hop into a bathroom and then a stall and successfully avoid peeing myself. Good work Anna, gold star for you. I'm about to leave the stall when I hear someone whistling outside of my stall. Then I obviously hear that the person is peeing. But the person never went into a stall. This perplexed me. I had a real moment where I considered the possibility of someone peeing in the sink for some reason. Why would they do that, I thought...that is GROSS. Then I realized they were not in fact peeing in the sink, but peeing in the urinal. Yes, ladies and gentleman, I, a college graduate, did not realize I was using the Men's Bathroom. So here I am locked inside of the stall with a guy whistling outside as he takes his sweet time on his pee break. I knew I had to act fast. I couldn't be THAT KID who peed in the Men's Bathroom, right? Plus if I didn't make a run for it, it was only a matter of time before my purple flats peeking below the stall would give me away. So I unlatched the lock, silently made a dash at the speed of light past the unsuspecting urinator who was whistling away at the wall, and caught my breath behind the door. I then went all James Bond on the place and snuck around two more doors and corners before naturally pacing myself into the hallway and back in the room. 

Moral of the story: Don't wait to pee. You will regret it. Lesson learned.