throwback thursday | 3 days until my birthday and i was a pretty sweet kid

 

That's not a poodle, it's my moms amazing 80's hair.
I'm all "Give me your damn cake monkey man!"

I know, you can be jealous of my sweet 90's outfit. 

Whatever Santa, I don't need your present when I've got these sweet bangs.

I hadn't learned about flat irons yet, and the makeup was for a performance piece I did. I needed to eat a serious meal when I was 15.

My sweet teenage bedroom. 

 

xo

it's like winters slapping me in the face

This morning I was driving around a bit earlier than I usually get started in my days. It was just around the time when people are starting, or in the middle of their commute into work. People walking, driving, riding their bikes.

It was a nasty day, with winds up to 45mph blasting you from the side, slushy snow that hit the streets and turned to water, and a temperature of 37degrees.  Just warm enough for me to sweat if I moved to much.

I start out all bundled up, I look in the mirror before I leave the house and make sure my hair is evenly placed around my face under my hat and I don’t have anything unsightly stuck to my face from breakfast. My mascara is waterproof, clutching to my eyelashes for dear life, refusing to let go even in the shower. Just the way I like it.

I look as presentable as I’m going to get, because I know what’s going to happen 10 minutes out the door. I’m going to fall the hell apart.

Let me back track to talk about a couple of people I saw on their commute this morning. They were all bundled up and braving this nasty day, just like I was, but there was one difference between us.

The elements had no effect on them. And I hate them for it.

Ok ok.. harsh..

The gusts of wind seemed to be working with their long hair, letting it flow behind them in waves with their hat perched so perfectly on their head. The snow turned to magic dust crystals when it hit there clothes and left no traces of a wet spot. There eyes were two bright spots in the middle of their big old faces, ready to take on whatever the day had in store for them.  

Is there some elite secret society for the preservation of your dignity when leaving the house on inclement weathered days? I'd like to subscribe to their newsletter.

When the wind hits me on days like this, I squint my eyes like I’m sucking on a lemon candy. I have a permanent scowl on my face like someone is consistently pissing in my cheerios, or like the world smells of farts. My hair doesn’t flow like waves behind me, but rather like the matted seaweed stuck in those waves. If you look close enough I probably even have a sea creature or two lurking in my locks.

The 65% of my hair that’s fake that frames my face takes on a life of it’s own and completely separates from the top layer of my real hair, I’ll attribute that to the sea creatures as well. It looks like I have some odd bowl cut that I missed a few pieces when getting cut.

I can only be thankful my mascara is waterproof or else it would be running in streams down my cheeks. My blotchy, red cheeks.

Inclement weather hates me, and I hate it right back. 

You should see me on 90degree days. I essentially melt into an old tomato that can’t process heat.

Winter be gone.

xo

it's not a question or an answer, but it will change your mind

This weekend was the first long stint of being alone I’ve had in quite some time. Was it relaxing? Not in the least.

I spent most of Saturday hanging out with two of my favorite Chihuahua clients. We watched Lifetime movies and ate goldfish crackers. Well, I ate the crackers, I don’t share.

I don’t have cable at my house, and have never really wanted it. Especially after my old roommate would get high as a kite and watch marathons for hours but never pay her half of the cable bill. Anywayyyys. I watched some terrible movie about a woman whose boyfriend beat her up and gave her amnesia and then lied to her about the two being engaged so he could get her fortune. I know, you’re already hooked right?

Afterwards a local photographer friend came over to try out some new (expired) Polaroid film he had purchased and to get some old Polaroid cameras I was giving to him. We took a few digital shots as back up as well.

I'd show you some of the film shots but I showed more skin than I'm about to show on this blog. At least for now. Nothing wrong with a little peek-a-cheek. 

Oh - and he gave me a book he put a few of my photos in. I love helping out local artists. It makes the 3rd book I've been in within the past year. 

I haven’t been sleeping very well since Kh went out of town. I had a couple of glasses of wine, took the dogs out for potty time before bed, and was so looking forward to passing the hell out Saturday night. Do you think it went down that way? Of courseeee not. 

I go to put on my pajamas and finally go to bed when what do I see? A big old pee spot right in the middle of Kh’s pillow. Now I know I didn’t crawl up on that bed, drop my pants and piss on it. I know Kh didn’t pee on it before she left. For one, it was real fresh, and for two she’s just not that kind of girl. Aweeesomeee. At least it didn't get on the bed. I would have been real mad.

Sunday I was just so damn exhausted I tried to do as little as possible. I had a few clients I had to see, and couldn’t drag myself away from pixel people. I’m obsessed. I get off the internet to go to bed, and then play on the internet on my phone in bed. For a couple of hours. 

Tonight I did what I absolutely hate more than anything, household chores. It was mostly to stop myself from falling asleep on the couch at 6:30pm. When I went into the bedroom to fold some laundry, I found a present from one of my dogs. A nice pile of puke. Right on top of my clean towels. Have I said aweeesomeee yet in this post? Cause that's what it was. 

Next weekend you’ll hear all about how drunk I got. That’s for damn sure.

xo