I just watched a Youtube video of some girl doing her hair and makeup in the style of Gwen Stefani. She looked 12, but according to her Myspace profile, she’s 18; either way, at the end of the video (which clocked in over nine minutes, five of which I skipped), she looked like a baby prostitute.
My point, though, is that about two minutes into the video, I had my cheek pressed against the granite countertop and I was eyeballing my laptop screen despondently. It took her almost five minutes to do the hair part, and it wasn’t even that elaborate a ‘do, and this was post-production time, meaning several segments were sped-up, meaning it was probably more like seven minutes of footage. Seven minutes! Seven minutes of brushing and teasing and pinning and glossing and smoothing and straightening and spraying and securing! For a Youtube video! I feel excessive if I spend seven minutes a week bothering with my hair.
[side note: I have been asked out on exactly three dates my whole life.]
I spent the bulk of today being an Asian Supernerd, though, wielding an engineering pad and a graphing calculator and– assisted by the POWERS OF MATH!– taking on the World of Homework Problems one trigonometric function at a time. The hamsters were logging some serious miles in their little spinny wheels today, so, I don’t know, maybe ending with something as banal as a powder-room video was a good distraction from all those damn vector equations.
Speaking of distractions, though: The Wife wheedled me into doing 11 miles of errands à vélo with her, and we finished up at Target, where I stumbled upon shocking evidence of just how far we women still have to go before society will deem us equal to our male counterparts. Inequalities are still in effect, and it boggles my mind.
MEN’S PAJAMA PANTS HAVE POCKETS.
This is entirely unacceptable and I am understandably outraged.