OhSoRosie.com

In a moment of madness, I subscribed to an (AI) app that promised to style me into a goddess.

Vanity will always kick you in the sensitive bits.

The subscription was such that my bank sent me a fraud alert and asked me to confirm the payment. Bless them, I thought.

In the meantime, I had aswered all the questions and uploaded a photo and what not.

In their defence, I uploaded a photo of me and my dad and hoped they’d figure it out.

I’m not good at taking photos or looking good in them. I’m always taken aback at how I actually look to be honest.

The app styled me as ‘mother’

What the actual…

I reported them as fraudsters and told the bank to reverse the payment.

Now the bank has frozen my card and there is a full investigation.

Maybe it will stop me subscribing to other stupid things.

Motherf#*”&@s, the lot of them.

My lovely man has finally completed his teeth restoration journey. What a relief to boast a full head of teeth again!

I have a few appointments to go.

Last week the long suffering dentist filed ten of my teeth down to stumps in anticipation of the crowns.

Because I am not brave, I endured this under sedation.

I left with a fabulous set of falsies.

Yesterday I had to go back for a check up and yet another design discussion.

Everybody I have seen can’t believe how amazing my falsies are I announced, they said I should stop here and leave these in.

Do you like the length, the colour, the this, the that my visibly aged dentist enquired.

They seem great, why are you worried I asked, anyone would think I was a difficult patient.

A long silence.

You managed, he advised, to be obstinate and demanding under sedation… We’ve never had that.

First of all, he continued, half way through, you demanded to ablute. This despite having nil by mouth. We escorted you to the bathroom, have no idea what you did in there and were supremely grateful you didn’t lock yourself in and emerged with pants on.

Then, luckily at the end of the work I had to do, you refused to open your mouth. We repeatedly asked if we could just finish up quickly but you had had enough and that was that.

Doesn’t sound like me I muttered, are you sure?

I can call witnesses he advised.

Bless them. They are earning their money.

Last night I had an appallingly vivid dream that a group of friends and I found ourselves stranded somewhere that required climbing out of and I couldn’t manage.

My subconscious is turning on me.

Our group of school mates, who have remained close, despite being scattered to every corner of the world, aren’t in bad shape.

As we frequently remind each other. ‘Look at you, so gorgeous’. ‘No you…. You never change’

We love and admire each other. It’s a good thing.

But, truth be told, there is only one of us who is an athlete. She is a machine. Running, cycling, paddling…. You name it. The girl has done it and is still doing it.

As a result, we never let her suggest an activity when we get together. We have to drug her to get to our level of happy slothness.

She must have got us into the dire situation in my dream.

In my dream, she was behind me, instructing me how to climb out. Pushing my bum actually.

I was not brave.

I can’t, I wailed, leave me, save yourselves.

We can’t get around you, she announced, if you don’t climb out, we’ll all die.

Bloody hell… Who needs that pressure.

I’m on my rowing machine as I write. Cycling next.

Can’t let mates perish can we?

I’m a bit of an outsourcer me. I know when I’m out of my depth and need expert help.

Although I generally have an opinion, most of the time when I outsource, my expectation is that said expert reads my mind and gets on with it, with only the vaguest of explanations and guidance.

Not unreasonable is it?

For well after 55 years, I lived with and managed my own eyebrows. I know! Crazy. The most I have done is to ensure that things didn’t turn into a monobrow.

In the last year, for whatever reason, I am outsourcing the management of my eyebrows.

Not without some regret.

The same lady, that sees me with some regularity, is always a bit surprised at the apparent state of my brows. She repeatedly shares with me that my face and brows are not symmetrical. I, disappointedly, do not fall into that 2% of the human population.

She further reminds me that my eyebrow hair grows differently. I have independently behaving eyebrows. Who knew?

And then, the dreaded jargon and my subsequent, but inevitable confusion starts.

The neutralisation is not holding on this side my lovely eyebrow technician announced.

Oh! I replied intelligently.

What would you like me to do, she enquired patiently.

I ignored her and continued to keep my eyes closed, hoping she would just get on with it.

She waited.

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and sure enough, she was gazing at me expectantly.

It’s not taken as warmly on this side she nudged, what are your thoughts?

I had many thoughts… none useful to this question.

Whatever you think is best….. I suggested cautiously.

She sighed…. I really am such a disappointment.

I always over tip, because clearly me and my eyebrows are a complete trial.