Where has all the glamour gone?

It's official.

My glam-factor is going down the shitter. If glamour was a person, I'd want to punch it in the face right now.

Seriously, I avoid looking at myself in the mirror these days. I prefer to dim the lights. Or better yet feel around on my face for any pieces of left-over food/baby goop before I head out the door.

My hair has never been so BLAH in all my life. What a bitch-slap that is after 9 months of glorious, healthy, show-stopping locks. I even attempted a blow-dry this morning - something I never do - this gal can't wrangle a blow dryer if her life depended on it. Meanwhile, back at the ugly ranch, not the result i was hoping for! Hair still berry berry frizzy.WTF?! My hair has NE-VER been frizzy before! I used to laugh in the face of all those John Frieda frizz-ease bottles. "Hahahahah, you stoopid little de-frizzers!". Karma's a bitch...

I have an army of short hairs sticking out, like baby hairs..and they're mocking me on a daily basis. No amount of hairspray will make them DIE, no head band is tight enough. Gloss and sheen left the building yonks ago. I must be deficient..but I'm taking a women's multi-vitamin. DAMN IT!

My skin is feeling old, sallow and gray, despite caring for it relatively well - the basics really. Cleanse and moisturise and occasionally exfoliate and once in a blue moon chuck on a mask. And just no time or desire for makeup. I swore 'til I was black and blue in the face that I wouldn't turn into one of those mums that forgo their makeup! For the love of all things holy, shmear on some tinted moisturiser and poke around with a mascara wand, will ya?! (That's me talking to myself).

And my clothes....feels like a sporty teenager's closet barfed all over me. I swear - jeans, t-shirts, yoga pants, sneakers, baseball cap. Dear God, WHY?!?  I am craving a pair of heels like this but I've almost lost the 'sass' to wear them. I would feel AWKWARD and THAT scares me!! Since when do i feel awkward in heels!!!! WHO AM I!?!?

CRISIS!

I feel like going GI Jane on my hair.

My darling friend Sa$$y Lady Lawyer and I workshopped my crisis today on msn messenger. The issue arose after she posted a picture of those heavenly shoes on her blog. It's all your fault woman!

She kindly suggested I go out to dinner with my hubster, but the truth is I'll be too scared to wear heels in fear of looking like a sallow-faced hooker with frizzy hair.

To continue with my self-loathing for the night...

Yesterday evening, after putting Sticky Baby to bed, I ate 1/3 bag of M&Ms. I can feel each individual 'M' turning into a blob of cellulite.

Ok, peace out people. I'm happy to be alive, I'm grateful for all that I have and all that I am. Don't go into frantic 'Help Mama L' mode, please. I'm fine. I just need to brush my hair, maybe get the gay hairdresser across the street to chuck in a treatment, and dig out some tinted moisturiser. She'll be right.

xoxo