Not that I don’t appreciate the compliments. I really do. I probably appreciate them more in this state of being than when I actually put a lot of physical effort into my appearance before going anywhere. When you put more than an hour into your appearance, you better dang well get a compliment or two, otherwise what in the hell were you doing with your time?
Here’s how this afternoon went: I get out of the shower, blow dry my hair, straighten it…the usual routine when I’m going about a normal working day. I had the vision of what I wanted to wear to work all figured out in my noggin. I would wear my gray pencil skirt with my emerald-green satin top (the one with the black polka-dots and the black sash right under the bust), and my trusty black pumps. I slide on the skirt and everything is looking good. It’s when I slide on the top I start to feel less than stellar.
For one, my boobs must have grown 10x since the last time I wore this particular top. The black sash which is supposed to go underneath my bustline? It didn’t go under my bustline. It went right across the middle of my chest, cutting my twins in half. If you’ve ever seen this done to your set of twins, you know how highly unattractive a look it is. So, the logical thing? I pull the top down, hoping to adjust it to its proper place. It wouldn’t budge. So, I reached inside the V-neck of this shirt and adjust myself with my hands, thinking maybe this would do the trick.
Boy, did it ever. I suddenly had cleavage like never before. Sooooo not appropriate for the place I needed to be at in less than 20 minutes.
What’s a girl to do other than to rip off the green shirt with the black polka-dots and tear through her closest for the next best option for her attire? I put on my favorite gray short-sleeved suit coat…it made me look wide through the middle. I put on my favorite purple multi-tiered layered camisole with my black sweater shrug…it made my look pregnant. Tried to put together a simple all-black outfit…except all of them required to wear heels and with a wedding happening at my workplace, I wasn’t about to run a wedding marathon in the high heels I would have to wear with these particular ensembles.
Finally I reached the point where I had to put on some clothes or be really late for work. So, I grabbed the first two things I saw that matched each other, slid on my flats, and dashed out the door.
Rewind a little bit here, too. Before the whole “what do I wear?” debacle, I was complaining to my roommate how I have boring hair. Boring in the sense that I always wear it the same way. It’s either half-up with bobby pins to get my bangs out of my face, all the way up into a ponytail to get the hair off my neck, or it’s down in a simple straight ‘do. It’s so boring!, I explained. I need to learn how to put my hair up in fun ways.
Like, some girls can do a successful messy bun.
I can’t do that.
Some know how to braid the front parts of their hair in fun ways, and loop them around to their ponytail/bun up do.
I can’t do that.
Others know how to roll the ends of their hair up and around so they have this rolled/coiled look going on. Very classy looking, in my opinion.
I can’t do that.
So, as I stared at my lifeless hair after straightening it for the one millionth time in my life, I knew I wanted it off my neck. It was a warm day, and I was already sweating just thinking about the prep work I’d be doing once I arrived at work. My solution? The half-updo it was. My roommate saw me, and remarked, “We decided on boring again today, huh?”
Apparently, I’m a sweaty AND boring blob of a person. It doesn’t help that a giant M&M cookie is staring me in the face right now.
“One seeks new friends only when too well-known by old ones.”
In this instance, when contemplating the words of Madame de Puisieux, the French epigrammist, I know I need to find new friend with not just good hair. They need to have GREAT hair, and I need to find out their tricks of the trade.
Let’s be real here. It’s not just with their hair….it’s with their overall look. How they put simple, yet elegant outfits together in the blink of an eye and simply by pulling things from their closest. How they step out of the shower, let their hair do whatever the hell it wants, run a squirt of some magical hair gel through the palms of their hands and over their scalp, and voila! Magnificent hair!
I want to have hair like that!
I used to think my hair was capable of doing two things, and these things dictated the way I would do it. 1.) I would get in the way of my vision and could be detrimental to whatever I happened to be doing at that moment. If I’m returning a fast spin serve on the tennis courts, or sketching a nearby tree, or people watching at the park, or attempting to read a sign while driving down the highway so I don’t get lost in the middle of a giant freaking city. I could be in the middle of a massive lightsaber fight, but wouldn’t you know it? My hair gets in my face, I can’t respond to a move, and I’m suddenly without an arm for the rest of my life.
All because of my stupid head of hair.
Mostly because of my athletic tendencies, I always wore my hair up and out of my face. Plus, it’s really easy to do your hair fresh out of the shower. Especially when its a 100+ degree day in the summer time. Have you ever milked cows in a sweltering barn with your hair falling in tumbles down your back and shoulders? Yeah, I didn’t think so.
The second thing my hair is capable of doing? Seduction. If done and played with correctly, a woman’s hair can be the gateway to a man’s bare instincts and animatistic tendencies. You can drive a man wild just by the way you do your hair, or simply by sweeping your hair off your neck, revealing the vulnerable and lovely nape of the neck. Flirting with one’s hair….it’s still a technique I’m working on. I don’t think you can hate your hair 350 days out of the year and have this technique mastered.
On top of everything else today, I tied 60-some blue satin bows on the back of chairs needed for this wedding’s ceremony, and people only sat in them for 30 minutes. Once the ceremony was over, the chairs with my decadent bows were abandoned.
Ah, the fruits of ones labors.
I hope your weekends are going just as awesome as mine. Minus the feeling like a blob part.
I don’t wish that upon anyone.
Let’s be honest here. I just rewrote this sentence twice after returning home from having a beer with coworkers. I promise it was only one, but seriously, I am beyond tired and should be going to bed instead of writing to you at this time and hour.
A face like this needs its beauty sleep.
It could be the beer, but this TV sounds really loud to me all of a sudden. I could simply be getting old, too. Ugh, whoever thought they’d see the day where I would utter something like that. Why I even decided to put on an unwatched episode of SNL is beyond me. I’m going to spend more time looking at that damn TV than to this computer screen. I can be a real dinkus sometimes.
It could also be my massive love and obsession with Bill Hader. Some call him absolutely creepy. Me? I’d jump him backstage in less than five seconds if given the chance.
This past weekend has got me going all sorts of crazy. It’s got me thinking about lots of things. Dating, guys, getting out into the country more often, actually eating something that wasn’t made on a deep-fried grill,the job search, wanting to move back home to help out for an extended period of time…and more about boys.
What is it about the country that drives the hormones crazy? The Pure Romance party I hosted for my sister’s Bachelorette Party didn’t help matters any. The weird thing? I ended up buying more beauty products than anything else after the Pure Romance segment was concluded. It’s fantastic. Not only did I buy a heated massager, but I also purchased this stuff called Dream, which is a pillow spray in the scent of rosemary, rosewood, and patchouli.
It smells so incredible.
If you want to imagine the smell, think of a legitimate hair salon that sorely uses Aveda products. Naturally, I adore Aveda (despite the price sometimes), and the smell just makes me feel like I am in heaven. Going to the hair salon once every three months or so just makes me lose myself from reality.
Everybody needs one, so don’t judge.
“When the grandmothers of today hear the word Chippendales, they don’t think of chairs.”
Oh, Jean Kerr…you are quite the dish dispenser. It’s a fact of our time era. Sex sells. Perfect example? The movie Magic Mike. Shirtless men with ripped chests and abs ripping their clothes off for money. You can’t tell me there isn’t at least one steamy love scene somewhere in that movie. Whenever somebody strips their clothes for money in a movie as a main character of the overall plot, there’s at least ONE steamy sex scene.
Trends don’t lie.
Recently, my sister and I made a list of things we will never, ever be able to talk to each other about despite how close we are, how close we’ve been, or how close we will become in the future.
What happens behind closed doors with boys is one such topic.
So imagine the look on her face (and everyone else’s faces for that matter) when the Pure Romance consultant walks into the room and tells us she’s going to open our minds to not only getting more pleasure in bed, but also with ourselves when the men in our lives “just don’t get it.”
I have never laughed as hard as I did that night by simply watching the reactions on my sister’s faces as the presentation continued. The beauty product version of everything went really well with people ooh-ing and ahh-ing when appropriate. I really wanted to get this perfume whose name I can’t recall at this exact moment, but it’s made with mostly pheromones so when it hits your skin, it mixes with the hormones in your body and it makes its scent according to the combination of pheromones and hormones inside everyone’s individual body. When initially rolled on, it does have a fruity smell about it, but after a few minutes, it starts to accumulate to your body’s specific chemistry. It’s perfectly named Basic Instinct.
I considered mine to smell almost like Bath and Body Works scent “Delicious,” but I was knocked off my high horse when my sister smelled my wrist and said, “Yours smells musty.”
Musty? Are you kidding me?!
Ah well, she was the guest of honor. I really couldn’t argue with her all that much. At least, not for one night anyways 🙂
On top of that, we filled out a card for her so she can improve her presentations from this point out based on what we had to say about our experiences with this particular time, and there was a question of “Out of the women with you in the group this time, which of them would make a possible Pure Romance consultant?”
Everyone, minus myself, wrote down my name.
Me? A Pure Romance consultant? Apparently I’m very energetic and open about talking about embarrassing topics. So, people think I could make a living talking about sex. Hey, it’s been a small dream of mine to be a guest blogger for the Cosmopolitan. You know the ones I’m talking about…30 Days of Sex, or 365 of Dating Tips,..things like that. Everything is anonymous, and no real names are mentioned, but the real, raw, but juicy fun details we all love to read about. It’s entertaining, to say the least.
And sex for 30 days straight? I could handle that. It’s the guy I’d have to worry about. It takes a special guy to actually take part in the blogging experiment experience, and not just go along with it because…well, because he wants nothing but sex for 30 days.
Nothing is ever as good as it seems.
But my eyes are really starting to get heavy now, so I’m going to leave you with a few uplifting parting words. Remember, the week is officially half way over, so here’s a little push in continuing to make it better.
– You have the power to make positive changes.
– Life is a menu with unlimited choices.
– Kick stress off your team.
– No one’s star shines brighter than yours.
– Setbacks are only temporary.
– No matter what chapter you’re on, you are a success story.
– Keep your eyes on the prize. It’s so close!
Who knew a body would need an entire week to recover from two days worth of wedding time party bliss?
If you start the day out late, everything gets thrown off. That’s my lesson of the day apparently.
My alarm goes off super early, and I woke up in a total state of chaos. Where am I? What am I doing? It can’t possibly be time for me to wake up yet, is it? Why am I not hearing my sister rummaging around the apartment? Oh, birds chirping. How nice…
This was literally my thought process when my alarm blared at 6:45 am. So what did I do? I rolled over and closed my eyes for what was supposed to be another 15-20 minutes of light sleeping. I didn’t plan on taking a shower that morning since I was starting off my day with tennis, modern dancing, and screenwriting with time before work to come home, shower and change my clothes. Like I always do on Wednesday. Oh, happy joy for routines!
Or so I thought. Instead of waking up 15 minutes later, I wake up 50 minutes later, and have 20 minutes before I need to be walking through the door of my office for work. So what else can I do but run into the bathroom, brush my teeth, wipe my face, throw my hair into a ponytail, throw on a pair of jeans and my go-to black t-shirt, throw my workout clothes in a bag along with my notebooks and textbooks, grab my keys and run out the door. I didn’t even have time to grab a fruit strip for breakfast. I walked into my office five minutes late. It’s a new record for me. How I managed to look somewhat decent after waking up in a cloud of “Oh, shit!” is beyond amazing.
The odds were most definitely in my favor.
There have been a lot of perks thrown my way. Upon opening my wallet, I discovered I had a full punch card from the Academy coffee shop. On top of that, upon opening my email, I discovered my screenwriting class was cancelled. What a better way to unwind from an intense game of tennis than to reward myself with the largest, most expensive coffee I could find on the menu since I was getting it for free? I enjoyed every slurp of my large caramel blend while reading my magazine in the green room. It was quite a heavenly experience having that much time to myself, even if it was only 35 minutes.
After learning some capoeira moves in modern, I had a geeked-out conversation with a classmate about the Hunger Games movie. Such an awesome conversation! Yet again, because i let me nerdiness get the best of me, I ran downstairs to grab my bag to head home to clean up before work and I was running late AGAIN. Rushed home, jumped under the running water, and my next obstacle had to be my choice in clothes, of course. Everything I put looked terrible or plainly just not right. What the hell was I going to do? Even if I knew an outfit looked good, I just had an ‘ugh’ reaction to it, so onto the rejection pile it went. Twenty minutes later, I’m rushing out the door because i have seven minutes to get across town to work and I have a bare face. Yes, that’s right. Not a drop of make-up dotted my facial expressions. Believe me when I said I felt both paranoid and naked. I never leave the house without mascara, at least.
I shouldn’t have been worried, though. I get to work, and my friend tells me I look really great. Um…okay. At least I felt confident about my final outfit choice. I know many people have an issue with wearing lots of black. Supposedly is makes you look boring and drab. I feel the exact opposite. I think black is my power color. The color is incredibly slimming! It always looks good on me, it downplays the areas I don’t want to draw attraction to (like my thighs!), and it’s an ultimately classy look to own. There are work places where they only allow you to wear black. A lot of college theater programs only allow students to wear black their first year because they have to earn their right to express themselves through other means, such as clothing. You have to be comfortable with yourself before you can be comfortable in another’s skin.
Whatever that means.
“It’s modeling — I didn’t find the cure for cancer.”
This is what I want to slap across people’s faces when they try to explain how hard living their career choice is. Marisa Lee Miller apparently feels the same way when people create a hubbub over her hotness.
Sitting in the green room during my 35 minutes of “me” time, of course I overheard the chatter about the current trends in the theater. Being a 5th year Academy student, I’ve sort of fallen out of the circle a little bit. Honestly, I could care less. But some of the things these people are worrying about…seriously? You really think I care about how you drive around like a freaking lunatic, and then expect me to feel sympathy for you when you crashed into somebody and dented your car? Do I really care that you ate 3 brownies last night, and now you’re torturing yourself by eating only celery sticks the entire day? Nope, not really. In fact, while you nibble on that piece of green, I’m going to shove a big fork full of tuna salad in my mouth. Oh, and your teacher graded you poorly on an assignment you openly admitted to throwing together last night, and now you’re pissed because you got such a terrible grade on it? Yeah, I’m sure the professor has it out for you. Especially since the paper was supposed to be at least 5 pages, and you send him 3 and barely a half. Yup…definerlyt has it out for you.
Besides all that, it’s been a pretty great day. I even had a joyous time working on my professional portfolio. It isn’t perfect, but it’s a work in progress and I’m liking what I’m seeing.
Since it’s midweek, and it can be a bit of a struggle to rouse ourselves for the rest of the week, I’m going to start something new. I hope to make it happen every Wednesday as a little pick-me-up and reminder that we’re not on the downslide for the week. Little words of encouragement, if you will. Reminders that great things do indeed lie ahead, especially when the week has proven to be a tough one.
– You are a positive force in someone’s life.
– Sometimes, stepping back shows us the best path forward.
– Life is more beautiful than ever. So are you!
– Relax. Replenish. Rejuvenate!
– Miracles still happen every day!
– Let your dreams keep you strong.
– Work some magic. Smile!
Hopefully, one of those has brightened the dark night for you. And no, I am not talking about our true Dark Knight, Batman.
Although, he can drive up in his Batmobile any time now….
I have spring fever, baby.
I’m starting to feel the rumblings deep inside my core…I need to change. This change…what sort of change, you might ask. The need for more sunshine? That’s always a given. I’m addicted to having dark skin, but you should know, I refuse to sit in those death beds also known as tanning beds. Two words for their real name: Death. Beds.
Do I need to make a physical change? Like, lose more weight. I’m working on it. But now I’m at the point where I also need to tone up. A tiny waist and flappy arms isn’t going to be attractive to anyone. Not even myself. Do I need to wear less make-up? I’m excited for the hot temps that will push me more in the direction of au natural. How about my hair? Should I dye it? I know the sun will work its highlighting magic on my locks the instant it decides to stay out from behind those puffy white things called clouds, so I’m going to stay away from the hair dye for now. Besides, dark dark brown locks make me look more mysterious anyways.
“Look, it’s one of the great mysteries of the world. I think I’m vaguely blonde. To be perfectly frank, I don’t know.”
Those are the words of one of our world’s true leading ladies and Hollywood classics, Cate Blanchett. In case you haven’t figured it out, she’s talking about the natural hue of her hair. If you’re a huge geek like me, you will recognize her more fully as the Elven Queen Galadriel than anything else.
See? This is why when I do dye my hair, I stick to different shades of brown, and if I’m feeling really risky, I do red tints. Once, I was bold enough to do blonde highlights. They were cute for awhile….but then I and everyone else began to realize that blonde is not, and never will be, my color.
I do find it funny though. Someone with their own stylist has so recollection of her natural hair color. I guess losing yourself in the character is worth it. Another superficial reason I love being an actress. Changing your appearance/. Usually the changes are super simple, like adding a headband, but its enough to make the world of difference.
Am I feeling restless? Oh yeah.
‘Adventure. Excitement. A Jedi craves not these things.‘ Oh, the wise words of the Jedi Master Yoda.
Yet, I hate to admit it, but I do crave these things. I’m sorry…sitting in a classroom for 4 hours a day where all they do is lecture at you is not my idea of excitement. Even the younglings in a galaxy far, far away get to train with low-intensity beamed lightsabers. Why can’t I do that while also listening to my professor talk about how to design the set of a stage full of metaphors and juxtapositions?
I also crave adventure. Probably one fo the main reasons I like walking around alone by myself. You never know what mischief you can get into that way. It always invited trouble in. Want to know a secret? When I’m out walking alone in the park, or through the mall, or at the bar waiting for friends to arrive? I always imagine myself as the female version of Han Solo. Seriously, he is one badass smuggler. I wouldn’t mess with him. Underneath that gruff, there’s a genuine heart of gold. Of course, you don’t tell anyone that, but try channeling his energy just once. You’ll feel the difference in yourself.
Or you’ll feel incredibly foolish.
Another girl who doesn’t wear her natural hair color, and she stands out for it? Emma Stone. She is not naturally a redhead. I believe she is a blonde, actually. Maybe a brunette. Either way, it wasn’t doing it for her. She dyed her hair red and voila! The calls and offers started rolling in. I guess it’s better to be a funny red-headed girl than a blonde one. Who knows? Hollywood can be ass backwards sometimes.
How’s everybody’s Friday going so far? Mine has been pretty laid back, but okay. Actually, I take that back. I woke up with pure anxiety running through my veins. No, I wasn’t on a drug, but it should be called that. Everybody would be getting high off anxiety. It’s got a ring to it.
Anyways, receiving a text at 2 in the morning alerting me that people from work are being let go doesn’t do anything healthy for my psychological state of being. My mind has a mind of its own. Find that confusing? My heart will race on its own, my blood will be doing its own thing, and my mind will be 40 countries to the left. Sometimes, my body doesn’t feel like its my own. Well, now I just feel psychotic, so I’ll stop mentioning it.
But remember, its Friday night, and I never want my Friday nights to be anything but Fabulous. You got it, it’s time for Fabulous Friday. Here are the things making my life a little more fabulous a moment at a time:
Favorite Quote: “Whenever I’m depressed, I like to cut myself… a nice, big piece of cake.”
Favorite Star Wars / Pixar Moment:
Favorite Grey’s Anatomy Moment: I am in love with Cristina Yang, and here are a few of her gut-busting moments.
Favorite Decor Idea:
Favorite Josh Groban Twitter Post: After watching, you’ll want to add it your bucket list!
I’ve never told you that little secret, either. I’m a total Grobanite. Why we are the things we are, I’ll never understand. I just like rolling with the punches.
But seriously! Have you heard that deep tenor voice?