Relating To Katniss

We all can do it, right? Relate to Katniss Everdeen that is. I mean sure a very small percentage of people can claim being forced to fight to the death on a televised reality program. Actually, I don’t think anyone can claim that that’s happened in their life, unless there’s some crazy programming going on over seas that I’m not privy to, and in that case– dear god, I hope that’s not happening! However there are other aspects to Katniss’ life that are relatable on more realistic levels, like most of us have families that we care about, most of us have fallen in love, or think we have, some of us have semi unhealthy friendships with people who possibly want to bone us, or marry us, we’ve all had to interact with weird people whose fundamental beliefs are vastly different from our own, unless we’re really really painfully sheltered, and many of us have endured unfamiliar and sometimes painful beautification practices, take your pick– oh, and some of us even have pets that we’d skin and eat if push came to shove. For me at least I can relate to, well– yeah only three of those things I just mentioned, and most recently I have to say the sometimes painful beautification practices is very, very relatable. No, wait, I have had unhealthy friendships with… you get the idea. Rough, I tell ya, also sorta a lot uncomfortable.

Beautification practices are weird, aren’t they? I mean think about it, we dye our hair unnatural colors according to the whims of fashion, we paint out finger and toe nails with shiny paint, we remove our body hair with wax and chemicals, and we douse our selves in oils and cremes to soften our skin and supposedly make our selves more attractive. Attractive to who, that’s entirely debatable.nail-polish Recently I’ve been putting myself through a gauntlet of sometimes painful, sometimes awkward– actually awkward quite often, beautification practices. Yep, and for the most part I’ve been doing these mainstream body modifications because I’ll be attending The Hunger Games: Catching Fire premiere in Los Angeles. Yeah, yeah– why didn’t I go to the one in London?! Simple, couldn’t afford it, and wasn’t invited. God knows how passe it is to show up to a party you’re not invited to, Effie would not approve one bit! Anyway, I can’t help but relate to Katniss as I’ve found myself repeatedly vulnerable under the scissors, or wooden stick dripping with hot wax, or tiny paint brush wielding beauticians hands. And I’ll tell you, hand massages when given by bored, fed up nail technicians is not relaxing, or anything resembling a massage. But who am I to tell them that they’re hurting me– they’re the ones who have easy access to super sharp cuticle scissors, and I’m the one who was idiot enough to go to the cheapest place in a five block radius of my house! Stupid me for thinking that a 15% tip is enough as well, even though they made me bleed, and left a bruise on my instep! So, while I’m paying to be tortured more times than I’d like to admit, know this– Katniss may have been a beautification virgin when she stepped off that train in the Capitol, but we’re masochists if we continue to allow angry nail techs to touch the appendages that help most of us do the work in our lives.

Just say no, and listen to the Yelp reviews online! Also, my favorite nail color is Bubble Bath if you’re wondering!

Them There Eyes

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