Why I'm Awesome (Part 20 of 7,412): GIRLIFICATION

So absorbed I have been in my story as well as a HOST of games (such as GTA4, a renewed addiction to Guitar Hero AND Viva Pinata, and various others on the DS Lite) that I've neglected to write about, you know, ME!

Fear not. If there is one thing I am good at, it's talking about that topic in particular.

[ This post is brought to you by Michelle, Jaya, and the pearl market lady. ]

Just over a month ago, right around the point at which I wound up in this abundance of free time that resulted from an untimely departure from my old company, I decided that much shopping was needed to alleviate the stress.

Yes, spending money when I am no longer making it. IT'S CALLED SAVINGS.

I am not and have never really been an avid shopper, certainly not when I am in Asia. And before you deplore me for what I'm about say next, SENIORS NAVIN AND KINDER, I will have you know that I am speaking purely from fact and not some deep-seated level of self-deprecation. It sucks to shop in Asia when you just aren't built like an Asian.

I really don't have to go into detail here, but basically, I am of a noticeably different shape from my dwarven, elvish countrymen. It really is the same story whether it's Hong Kong, Singapore, Shanghai, etc. It is simply frustrating to walk into a store, try something on, only to get depressed because the XXXXXXXXXXXL size doesn't fit.

On top of this, I am also, well, tomboyish. I was never "into" the more effeminate pursuits of make-up selection or constant haircare (my hair is flawless on its own without my trying, believe me). I never get my nails done, either. I did not own much jewelry, nor do I wear any beyond a pair of earrings and a watch. These just weren't things that I was interested in.

Then along comes my darling Michelle. Michelle, as many of you know, is one of my favorites and, loathe though she may be to admit it, a SHANGHAI STAPLE. She is now located in Washington, DC, which, some of you may be savvy enough to note, IS NOWHERE NEAR SHANGHAI. Disappointing as this fact may be, rest assured, Michelle, that you are missed, I love you bunches, I hope you are enjoying yourself.

(Which honestly, can't be very much because I am not there.)

BUT TO THE POINT. In Michelle's final weeks in Shanghai, we journeyed to the Hongqiao Pearl Market, a typical Chinese market were fake purses and genuine pearls abound. You really have to see it to believe. She introduces me to her trusty pearl lady, who sells jewelry of all sorts, not just pearls, and, in the span of four or five heartbeats, VIVIENNE BECOMES A GIRL.

Almost like my body just up and went "oh hey that there is a vagina, huh."

I went nuts. I bought so much stuff (for very cheap, I will have you know) and effectively increased my accessory selection eightfold.

I also bought three pairs of sunglasses.

Mere days later, to H&M, where I picked up more necklaces and bangles and bracelets.

Michelle departs. Depression sets in. What do I do?

I go to the fabric market to get a suit made. In getting those suits made, I bring my friend Kelly along, and what do we find while wandering around there? A silk tailor who makes clothes from some really gorgeous silk. And what do I get made? MY FIRST DRESS PURCHASE IN OVER FOUR YEARS.

Truth! The last dress I bought was in my junior year of college! (This also reminds me that in exactly one week from today, I would have been graduated for three years. Wow.)

Moving on. Two more silken creations follow.

In between these trips to the fabric market? Salon hair washes! Head massages! Manicures!

Then, on April 27, 2008, the unthinkable happened. I put aside my razor for the last time and walked into a little beauty shop and got my very, very first waxing session.

Yeah um if giving birth is more painful than THAT, then no thanks. Adoption ok.

I also got my eyebrows shaped. Not as painful, but man she was plucking hairs out that I couldn't even see with my naked eye.

I walk out there honestly feeling incredibly good. Tingly, but good. It is an odd sensation.

The second driver for all this is, of course, my dear Princess Jaya. It is no surprise to those of us who know here that she is, in our little group of hoodies and jeans, the slinky black halter dress. Always chic, she is.

And I felt I could learn a thing or two about dressing myself up from her. I even pester her for make-up tips! "What's that you're putting on your face? What's that stuff? And that stuff? What colors would look good on me? How much eyeliner should I wear? What kind of mascara do you use? Do you have a brand you'd recommend?"

To be fair, I still do not often wear make-up. That stuff costs. But I guess now when I do use it, I feel like I know what I'm doing. It's odd. I need more practice. I think I've used more make-up remover to get rid of smudges or mistakes than I have actually used in make-up itself.

All in all, it feels good. And I would imagine it is pretty odd when I walk into a barbecue wearing a silk top and jeans and stuff and geek the fuck out when I see that they are playing Rock Band RIGHT THERE IN THE LIVING ROOM AND OH MY GOD CAN I PLAY CAN I PLAY CAN I PLAAAAAAAY and of course whip everyone's ASSES at it.

Shit I ain't gonna lie. I love that feeling. I also love the fact that I haven't had to shave my legs in TWO WEEKS.