1. The power in our neighborhood went out for a few hours on Friday and I had a dermatology appointment I was late for. The garage door, being electrically powered, wouldn’t open, so I had the genius idea to climb on the back of my car and grab onto the red toggle rope thing that I assumed manually opened the door. No. It in fact does not. It only locks/unlocks the door. Both hands grabbed for dear life as I hopped to the ground, and the toggle took skin and my dignity with it. Two minutes later, with blood having been spilled and my hands sloppily wrapped up in four miscellaneous Spongebob and Hello Kitty band-aids, I find the elderly Romanian man,who totes around our property performing different jobs once a week, grunting and heaving my garage door up and open for me. A positive is that the pain in my hands distracted me from the burning of the chemical peel during my appointment.
2. I later had my eyebrows waxed (as my friend Nicole would say, “the eyebrows are approaching Peter Gallagher territory” and mine had not only crossed, but invaded and staked land). I forgot to mention to my gal Juanita that I was taking anti-bacterial meds, which made my skin really sensitive. After a few rips of the cloth and wax, she paused and asks if I was taking medication. She had nicked my eyebrow, which would need regular application of neosporin, oh, and to clue her in next time.