Hamster Beauty

I looked on tonight as a female hamster sat in the cold, at the bus stop, putting on a full face of makeup. I am not sure what she was trying to accomplish exactly with her little makeup bag, under a streetlight. Streetlight illumination can never be flattering. I looked on as she carefully applied powder, eyeshadow, blush, mascara and a most ghastly lipstick, which to me seemed pointless cause her hair was a hot mess, not to mention the outfit. But this is just another part of London hamster life apparently. I have seen it many times on the train in the morning, but this was my first evening/bus stop hamster-makeup sighting.

I mean, everyone rushes around as though their very existence depended on it, and the sad thing is, it probably does depend on it. As I walked to my platform 2 days ago, with my cup of coffee, a male hamster rushed past me and almost knocked over my mochaccino. You better believe if he had knocked over my morning salvation, and if I had to chase after him, knock him to the ground and make him fork over my 2 quid, he was going to buy me another coffee.

But hamster beauty is something else. The only thing I have not seen is a blowdryer, but the sunken eyes come onto the train, with full resurrection kit aka the makeup bag, and they pray they get a seat and don't have to stand with some of the other unfortunate hamsters. Once seated, they apply products ranging from Boots to M.A.C to dull skin and eyes. They also stand at the platform while they wait for the train with purse draped over one arm and makeup bag at the top of said purse, and they busily apply concealer and the like before the train gets there. I refuse to do hamster beauty. Jostling onto a crowded train with a makeup bag, and then risking digging out my eye with the eyeliner or mascara wand, is not my idea of diva behaviour. Sitting on a dirty bus stop bench, most likely after touching nasty, germy seats, handlebars and railings and then using those same hands to apply stuff to my face is just nasty. Brushing wet hair so droplets of water from my shower splash on others is discourteous. My advice to the hamster women out there: Lay off the pints the night before and set the alarm to wake you up an half hour earlier in the morning. It works!

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The London Hamster Sprint

The unthinkable has happened.

I have found myself running for buses and trains. I have found myself cursing the fat woman or the slow moving tantie in front of me, strolling through the underground corridors as if she has no f...g place to go, as I am trying to pelt my ass and my bookbag to the next available train for fear of missing my overground train and having to wait another 25-30 minutes, thus risking being late for class or just being late for home. I am one of those tight-arsed, tight-lipped Brits, peeps. My God.

I was actually strolling to my train this evening as I was just frickin' tired and then somehow got caught up in the hamster sprint with a train sitting at the stop and quite forgetting myself, I jumped on it, getting pushed and squeezed in the process. It was only after the doors had closed that I cursed to myself - this ain't even my so and so train. lol. Had to jump off at the next stop, take the train back to my original stop and guess what? Wait half hour for the next one. lol. I can laugh now but I was not laughing then.

And another thing - it really knots my socks when you're sitting on the train, trying to de-frazzle, with your schoolbooks etc on the seat next to you and some pervy asshole asks to sit next to you when there are empty seats ALL AROUND...in any of the EIGHT coaches. But no...I must move my bag and my books and inconvenience myself so you can breathe my air. Take it from me, you're not going to win any brownie points by doing that. I will move my bag if the train is filling up, but gimme a lil chance nah. Gosh man.

I am finally home and showered and lotioned up. If anyone wants to make my prayer list for the next year, you would buy me this..SERIOUSLY.


Nothing else works. I use Palmer's Cocoa Butter...not the real butter but the watery shit in the bottle. I use Buffy. I use Keri. But only Lay It on Thick keeps my skin from becoming like an alligator's. And from itching in this dry, cold air. Oh please please...someone. Get to your nearest Bath and Body Works and send me a tube. I am on perhaps my last squeeze. lol.

Other than that, I have work, group assignments (postgrad group assignments are as annoying as undergrad group assignments and maybe worse cause patience in my case, decreases with age) and during the week, no life. I feel like I am home, at work - the only difference being, I get paid to work and have no life. lol. I am the one paying others to offer me inconvenience on a silver platter. It is hilarious. But no...it's a lot of work, and the end seems miles and miles away because there are a million chapters to read before next week, but I know there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Somewhere. Maybe it's the train I am running for. Maybe. Anyway, I live for the weekend. Trying to plan drinks after Eff Dem Friday - classes til 5pm. And anything involving a laugh and maybe a cute boy.

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