Amish hair.

So, I have really long wavy hair and, what I think, are pretty long nails.  It occurred to me this morning that there is a good possibility that when viewed by a total stranger, I may appear to be Amish.  Either Amish, or that other religion where the women are only allowed to wear jean skirts down to their ankles.  You know those people?  No offense to the jean skirt religion or anything.  I just don't really adore the idea of being mistaken for one of them.  I guess if anyone DID mistake me for one of the "skirt wearers" they would assume I was a sinner in the eyes of my religion because I would obviously be wearing pants.  I guess it's better to be categorized as a "sinner skirt wearer" than a "regular skirt wearer" because I would never be caught dead in a JEAN freakin SKIRT.  

The whole Amish thing sent me into a bit of a panic though.  It was rather distressing for me to think that ANYONE had ever looked at me walking through the wal-mart parking lot and come to the conclusion that I arrived there via Horse drawn carriage, and most likely I was only out and about in "town" because I finished churning a weeks worth of butter ahead of schedule.  So, I ran to the bathroom with my camera and spent about 30 minutes facing away from my full length mirror holding my camera over my head trying to get a picture of the back of my hair.  I desperately needed this picture so I could post it on MUA and sadly plea for them to tell me I don't look Amish.

Have you ever taken a candid photo of the back of yourself?  It goes smoothly, and the idea seems totally fine and innocent until the part comes where you SEE THE PICTURES.  The horrific mistake you have made will instantly become crystal clear.  

Looking Amish is the last thing you will ever worry about when looking at full length pictures of the back of yourself.  The first thing that happens when you begin to look through the photos is a frantic search for the DELETE KEY, on your keyboard.  Once your finger is firmly placed upon it and you have thoroughly checked that the coast is clear, the next thing that happens is your mouth subconsciously turns into a hateful scowl.  As you scroll through the photos it slowly morphs from this witchlike scowl into a full on jaw drop.  "WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?"  Is the third step. This takes place in the form of a shrill shriek escaping from your throat.  The sound of it will only piss you off even more.  Because now not only do you have a fat ass, but you ALSO sound like a nagging, harpy, shrew.

The most disturbing trend I noticed during the hours I spent scrutinizing each and every photo of my ass, was that in every single one I have a wedgie.  Ok, what am I missing here?  Has my ass really grown so large that my nerve endings have spread out to the point where I can no longer detect fabric wedged UP it?  That can't possibly be it.  So it must be that at some point in time I forgot to pick a wedgie for long enough that I became used to the sensation and no-longer notice it.  YEAH, that makes a lot more sense than the whole "Your ass is just fat." conclusion.

I really hope you weren't thinking I was going to post any of the aforementioned photos.  If you were, you are hilarious.  What I AM going to do is give away a BRAND spankin' new bottle of Borghese Stellare Notte.

Gorgeous huh?  I cannot provide swatches of it for you because I myself don't even own a bottle of this.  A quick google search will tell you all you need to know about this hot tamale of a polish. 

THE RULES- are the same as always.  You need to TELL someone about the giveaway.  Email, tweet, blog, post, link, whisper, scream, text, sing, screech, type, or scribble about it to SOMEONE.  Then leave me a comment and tell me who you told in order to enter.  No entries after 12pm Friday the 26th.  International readers are welcome as always!