I Tried a Face Mask for the First Time and it Went as Well as You'd Think
Hellooooooo. How's your Tuesday going so far? Did you have a nice Labor Day weekend? Wow. Amazing. I'm sure you've got all kinds of fun stories from your weekend. What did I do? Oh, well a friend came over and I tried a face mask for the first time. Spoiler; it didn't go well.
So, I'd say that I have some mild form of hypochondria. It's not paralyzing, but it's definitely there and always lurking just beneath the surface. Probably a contributing factor in my inability to watch medical shows because I'm too squeamish. All signs in my life point to the fact that I probably would not handle a face mask well. And yet I still did it.
(Do I get points for facing my irrational fear or points deducted for having said irrational fear?)
Before we get into the Face Mask Fiasco of Labor Day 2k17, lemme tell you about the time I got a tattoo in 2016. There I was, a nervous little fool in the tattoo parlor waiting area filling out my waiver. The simple fact that there WAS a waiver made me nervous to start. Of course, leading up to that day, my mom was like you could get infected and DIE. So, when I saw the waiver, I was like well, this is how I die I guess.
Pictorial Representation of Me That Fateful Day
Anyway, I'm reading the waiver and it says not to get a tattoo if you're allergic to ink. My brain instantly goes off the rails and is like TINA DON'T DO THIS MAYBE YOU'RE ALLERGIC TO INK YOU DON'T KNOW YOU FOOL. I called my mom in a panic, she didn't answer. It's almost my turn and I ask my friend if she thinks I'm allergic and she's like probably not.
I then take the pen I'm filling out the waiver with and draw a massive streak on my arm because that'll answer my allergy question for sure. Shockingly, I'm not allergic to pen ink or tattoo ink.
From that story, you can assume that I handled a mud face mask in a super chill way, right? GOOD JOKE.
I did not.
I put the mud on and let it set for like twenty minutes. Everything was fine and going great. Kind of. I was still a little stressed, but I thought I was playing it cool. When the time was up, my friend was like wet your face and then wipe it off. All my paranoid brain could process was GET IT OFF AND GET IT OFF NOW WHAT IF IT STICKS PERMANENTLY TO YOUR FACE OR YOU HAVE A TERRIBLE ALLERGIC REACTION.
For someone that does not suffer from allergies of any kind, you would think being allergic to something would not be a thing I constantly worried about. But, there I am, in my bathroom,
calmly frantically wiping this mud off my face. My face is bright red because I did not heed my friend's warning to wet the mud before I wiped it off. It's so red I look like a lobster or a British person on vacation in Florida.
Of course, my brain is going a mile a minute and I think that my face is going to be permanently faux sunburned for the rest of my life, so I start holding ice cubes to my face. All of this happened over the course of like twenty-five minutes. I am ridiculous. There is no need to remind me of that. My face still feels a little tingly, so let's hope I'm okay??
(I'm already thinking of eight thousand reasons I may not be okay.)
What does any of this have to do with this song by the New Radicals? Absolutely nothing. I recently fell back in love with the New Radicals song, You Get What You Give. DALES has this dope seven-hour long Spotify playlist called On Your Way To Anywhere and it's a masterpiece. A playlist I wish I made. Game respect game, ya feel?
(Also, none of y'all took me seriously about the quotes thing, but I'm truly desperate. If no one sends me anything, we're gonna be knee-deep in early-2000s moody alternative lyrics. Help a girl out.)