Funny Randoms about Barbie combs.

Here are a couple of random stories from my youth that make me laugh. Not at the humour or because I'm a hilarious genius, but because when I was young, I was so FUCKING LAME. I was so lame that if I met me now, I'd probably punch young me in the face even though I wore glasses.

I kinda looked like this. Because I wanted to, not on a dare.

That's right. I copied my look from Becca on Life Goes On. I wasn't nearly as endearing though, I kinda looked like a mix of her and Weird Al. At least that's what my best friend would tell me...that I looked like a female Weird Al. What's weird is that I took that as a compliment.

Let me fix your cowlick

Weird Random Story #1:
I used to love watching Leave it to Beaver.

That's it.

Just kidding. So I used to love watching the Beav get into all sorts of different adventures, but what I loved the most was his big brother Wally.
I had a huge crush on him. So huge that when he was on screen, I'd sit as close as possible to the television. One day I decided that his hair looked messy, so I was going to comb it. Yeah, I know what you're thinking...are you sure that I wasn't Becca on Life Goes On's mentally retarded sibling?, but I assure you, I was my own brand of mental defective. I took a Barbie comb and started scraping it on the TV screen, pretending to brush and caress my love's hair. What I actually wound up doing was scratching the TV screen. Noticeably. I was so scared that I was going to get in deep shit that I stopped watching TV for awhile, like that would somehow make the scratches disappear. My mom never wound up noticing the scratches (probably because she didn't sit IN the TV like I did) but now whenever I watch Leave it to Beaver I feel anxiety. Effing Wally and your messy hair.

Like this but not as fancy.

Weird Random Story #2:
I used to have bangs. Before straightening irons came out, I was a different person. I had bushy, puffy gross hair, and since I didn't know how to style myself, at ALL. Like any young girl in the early 90's that's behind the times, I got bangs.
Bangs are a bitch. Anyone who has them will tell you. While they can look fantastic, the minute you sweat and they curl up like the Wicked Witch of the East's feet, you want to kill yourself.
Regardless, I decided that I wanted bangs. Mostly to cover up the acne on my forehead, (they were pubescent times, and it was not pretty) but also because I had cracked my head open a few months earlier and developed a deformity I still have to this day--a huge lump on my forehead. Call me Johnny Deformed! Anyway, I didn't realize that to have bangs, you actually have to know a little something about style and hair and hairstyling. I knew little about all three. I learned how to dry them with a big round brush, so I was ok there, but as soon as I'd go out somewhere they'd have a mind of their own. I didn't carry around a purse yet, so I needed to have something with me to tame them. I decided on a Barbie comb. Yep, I carried around a fucking mini comb to comb my BANGS. When I think back on that I want to punch myself in the stomach. I see young me looking at my reflection in a window, pulling out that little fucking comb and combing my bangs, as if that made a friggin difference. I was a geek, bangs or no bangs. The comb just added to my lameness.

Thank goodness I turned out to be pretty rad. I still do secretly lame things, just not with Barbie combs.