Posts Tagged ‘make up’

Not A God Damn

December 24, 2018

Thing.

Nothing.

I have no plans for tomorrow.

Zero.

Zip.

Nada.

I won’t be doing homework.

I won’t be going to work.

I have no clients.

I have no obligations.

I have no chores to do.

I did laundry today and cleaned up from last night’s holiday party.

I have no party to prep for.

I have absolutely nothing to do.

Except.

SLEEP IN!

Oh my God.

I am not setting an alarm for the first time in weeks?  Months, I mean, I don’t know.

It’s been a while.

I already feel like I’m playing hooky by writing my blog at 10p.m. at night.

I can stay up as long as a fucking want!

Although I won’t.

Because I am a creature of habit and I don’t want to blow my entire sleep schedule completely up.

I will have to work this upcoming week and not all of my clients went out-of-town for the holidays and I have group supervision as well as a one on one evaluation with my supervisor.

But hey.

That’s not tomorrow.

Tomorrow there is nothing to do but rest.

I have briefly entertained the idea of going to the MOMA, but I’m not sure I want to go downtown.

It may actually be the only place in the city that’s busy with shoppers and tourists and such.

I may not want to drive anywhere.

When was the last time I did that?

Not drive anywhere on a day off?

I had also thought about taking a nice long walk on the beach, but um, rain.

Looks like it’s supposed to rain most of the day tomorrow.

I could actually spend the entire day in the house and not leave it and lay around in my pajamas and not put on clothes or make up or do my hair.

I could.

I probably won’t though.

I can let myself sleep in a little, but not getting dressed and lazing around the entire day in pjs feels weird.

Besides.

I don’t wear pjs.

No.

I do like the idea of being up and doing a few things and I will do my normal morning routine, I will just not be doing it to the sound of an alarm going off.

I will wake up when I wake up.

There have been times that unscheduled open time freaked me out.

I have not had it in such a long time though, that I think I will manage to not freak out.

Christmas day I will be going out and about.

Not crazy like, but a matinée at the Kabuki Theater, The Favorite, with my person, then meeting up with a few others for Chinese food at Eric’s in Noe Valley, and then downtown to the Metreon for Mary Poppins.

I allowed myself to get wrangled.

Frankly I’m not really interested, but free ticket and not being by myself Christmas night was enough to get me to agree despite my lack of enthusiasm for the movie.

I do expect The Favorite will be fun, I heard it was wicked good and the previews definitely looked good.

I can’t imagine going out to more movies tomorrow.

Two movies in one day is decadent enough, I could read some books, not text books.

Although, knowing me, if the books I ordered for next semester happened to show up I might actually to get a jump on the work.

But I sense that’s not what I should be doing.

Keeping the space heater on, getting cozy with a novel on the couch and sipping hot tea and staring at my Christmas tree sounds about right.

I might walk to the store and buy a chicken to roast.

I really am contemplating not driving anywhere, although it’s likely that I will go out in the evening to do the deal, I could for most of the day just be at home.

It’s a nice home, it is.

I had a lovely time hosting my first little party here last night.

I had ten people show up and all the chili got ate!

All of it.

I had no left overs at all.

Oh, I had some, but not chili.

Anyway, it was lovely, very sweet, and I felt happy to have folks in the house and I made a pie from scratch, crusts and all, in heels and fishnets over silver glitter tights.

I mean.

It is Christmas after all, I had to wear some sparkle.

I found it quite appropriate to be in my kitchen in heels baking pie with my house full of gay boys and girlfriends.

It was good.

Chosen family.

I felt really blessed.

I have some of the best people in my life.

It was so nice too, to socialize.

I haven’t had much of that what with school and my internship and work and all that jazz.

I even tentatively talked going out dancing with a few of my girlfriends in January.

Not New Year’s Eve.

Total amateur night and way too expensive.

If I were to go dancing on New Year’s Eve I’d actually go to a friends party in the East Bay that’s a big sober event and usually a good time.

But not really sure I want to navigate the bridge on New Year’s Eve either.

The girls and I were thinking a little later into the month, although, not too late as I will be starting back up with school the last week of January.

I basically have one month off from school.

My spring intensive starts on January 24th.

So a few weekends of fun before I have to buckle back down with the books.

Two tops.

I will want to give myself some time to go over the materials before the intensive, there was reading assigned before this semester’s start, I can’t imagine that they won’t do the same for this upcoming semester.

Which is neither here nor there.

I am off topic.

Off topic from tomorrow.

My lazy, do nothing, have no responsibility to anything or anyone day.

Oh God.

It sounds so good.

I think I’ll get started now.

Good night.

Sweet dreams.

And don’t bother calling me in the morning.

My phone will be off.

I’m motherfucking sleeping in.

Seriously.

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Color Me Happy

April 26, 2015

I got the best hugs today.

I caught up with some friends that I have not seen in a long time.

And.

I got my hair did.

So good.

Roller

Blow Out

Rollers

Rollers

Pink

Pink

Happy

Happy

Damn

Damn

Color me happy, joyous, and pink.

I was just going to go blonde.

But well, one thing, er, lead to another.

And I’m in the pink.

And I love it.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, my dear friends at Solid Gold Salon, Sutter Street at Jones (shameless plug, they are just awesome and amazing, I mean, come on) in the Tender Nob of San Francisco.

Check them out.

I mean they have been doing my hair for a long, long, long time.

Calvin did my cut and his partner Diane did my color.

I could not have been in better hands.

It was not always this way.

“You look like a space hooker!” Calvin hooted in the living room of his apartment in Nob Hill proper.

“Dude.” I said, as I looked in something like horrified awe at what he had done to me.

Note to former self, never let anyone dye your eyebrows.

Ever.

Especially not someone who is still in beauty school.

“You are not allowed to post those photos up,” I said, “and excuse me while I go scrub my face off.”

Calvin was not just in school for hair (Aveda and Vidal Sassoon), he also did the program at Blush School of Makeup down on Market Street.

I too was living in Nob Hill, Taylor at Washington, and I would often make the two block, very uphill walk, to his place and we would shoot the shit, drink too many lattes, and he would cut my hair, color it, razor blade it off, once, oh God, once, he gave me a faux hawk and a tail.

How do you know when you love someone?

You let them give you a tail.

I saw a little boy at the park the other day with a tail and all I could think was, that is so not cool, cut it off.

Off man.

I made him cut that off pretty quick.

I never really gave a damn about the color or the weird cuts, he always figured it out, and it was fun to be his hair model and let him go to town on my head.

“I remember when you were rocking all those crazy colors and cuts, you were doing wild color before any one else,” she said to me last night when I told my friend I was going in to the salon today and I was going to do blonde, pretty blonde highlights, beachy, you know, sexy.

Well.

There was some blonde involved.

And the pink will fade, eventually to blonde.

Which is perfect.

That’s actually what I want.

I also left with a container of Manic Panic Cleo Rose.

When it fades too much.

Or.

When it’s just about time for Burning Man.

I will use the Manic Panic and bring back the pink.

I love the way it fades out though, I may wait a while to douse it with more color.

I’m pretty happy with how it turned out and they gave me a blow out, using the great big curlers, and I just love the being fussed over.

Perchance we are to date, and you are a man, identifying as heterosexual, not gay, not homeless, and not in a poly possible relationship, you will win me over by 1. Kissing my neck and 2. Washing my hair.

Oh goodness.

It is the best thing to have a person wash your hair.

I could just lie in that wash station all day and let that happen.

It still amazes me that I go to the salon and get my hair done.

Or that I go to the nail salon and get my nails done.

Or that I wear makeup.

All the things.

All the things I never used to do.

It’s like having the adolescence that I never had.

“My dad says I should be careful, you’re high maintenance, he says,” my boyfriend in my twenties told me.

I’m high maintenance?

What?

What the fuck do you know about high maintenance old man?

He was right.

Perhaps why I reacted so strongly to it.

If you spot it, you got it.

I love this part of myself though and I am doing my best to allow myself to embrace it, within reason, I’m not so high maintenance as you might think.

“I’m going to shame you when I tell you when the last time you came in for a cut was,” Calvin said as he looked it up in the computer.

“I know, I know,” I said, cringing.

I knew it had been almost a year.

“Almost a year,” he said, giving me the look.

They say every six weeks.

I say every twelve months.

“I wish you would teach me how you do that cat’s eye,” she said to me, “I just can’t do it.”

It takes me five minutes to do my make up in the morning.

Maybe six if I don’t have a steady hand, but it’s just doing the same thing every day since Calvin taught me how to do my makeup.

I got to be his model a few times for make up and when I went to Blush one of his head instructors also used me to do a demonstration and I learned a lot.

I could learn a lot more.

I don’t know contouring or really how to use blush properly or apply false eyelashes.

But you know.

I’m willing to learn.

I may be high maintenance, but I’m not time-consuming high maintenance.

And I know how happy I feel when I have pretty hair and makeup.

And how sexy I feel.

“Don’t hide your sexy under a barrel,” she told me, “God did not give you all that to waste it hiding in a corner.”

Yes ma’am.

“Where are you going tonight,” Diane asked as she finished the hair and smoothed down the last pieces, coaxing the full soft curl forward in a long sashay of bang framing my face.

“I don’t have plans,” I said.

“You look great! Are you going on a date?” My housemates friend asked as she popped over to check the mail and feed the cat.

Nope.

I do not.

But you know.

Every time Calvin has done my hair.

I do end up getting asked out on a date.

Here I am.

Let’s do it.

My hair looks amaze balls.

And.

I’ll put my make up on quick.

Real quick.

Promise.

Teachability

February 6, 2014

I can learn new things.

I can.

But dude, sometimes I am my own worst enemy.

I am afraid that I will be “inconvenienced” due to inclement weather on Sunday.

Bah.

Take the train, darlin’.

I have the opportunity to assist a make up artist on a music video that is being shot in San Francisco this Sunday.

I was super excited and flattered to be invited to do so, then nervous, then why would she ask me?

Duh.

Because I show up for work all the time with Betty Page eyes and full blush on.

I wear makeup and I obviously have looked into doing it before as a career move when I was in the middle of making a shift away from nannying.

I investigated Aveda.

I went to Blush School of Makeup.

Both schools, said, yes, please, come right on in.

Both schools asked for a pretty steep tuition.

“You don’t need a licence to do makeup,” she told me, “you do if you are doing hair or esthetician work, but not make up.”

“Do you have any experience working on people?” She inquired.

“Helped one friend with makeup for her wedding and what I do every year at Burning Man,” I said.

I have put make up on folks, but not professionally.

Then again, it’s not like I was tapped to be the head make up artist, I was asked by the head make up artist to lend a hand, to be on set, to meet people, to see how it works, to watch from the process and learn.

That’s really how I learned what little I do know about makeup, from being the model of a friend of mine who went through the Blush program.  I paid attention, I listened to what his instructors were saying, I learned new stuff.

Then I just got used to putting make up on myself.

I still would like to be professionally made up sometime, that would be fun.

I am going to learn some new things, meet some new people, and hey, get to be on the set of a music video?

What?

I will take the train if it’s raining and I don’t want to be on my bicycle.

It’s not a paid gig, it’s more like an apprenticeship and considering how much courses to learn make up do cost, it’s a pretty awesome thing to get to be involved with.

It’s another thing I get to learn how to do.

There is so much to learn.

I don’t believe that I will ever master any of them, but I also get to find out what I like.  And from just a pure girly sort of stand point, I do like make up.

I never wore it in high school or in college.

I remember my first serious boyfriend rather poo poo’ed it.

Of course he was smoking pot, sporting t-shirts with Onion slogans on them (Fuck you, you fucking fuck was great for grocery shopping at Woodman’s) and plaid flannels, Van’s for skateboarding and playing frisbee golf and smoking more pot and drinking craft beer.

I am surprised he was ok with me shaving.

I remember once his dad made some comment about how I was high maintenance and it pissed me right the fuck off.

High maintenance?

I don’t wear mascara.

How can I be high maintenance?

He probably meant my personality.

But I did begin to wear a little something now and then to compliment the ever-present pot of Rachel Perry Lip Lovers that was always in my front right pocket.

I loved that stuff.

Still, to this day, I have not found an adequate replacement.

I started to learn how to put on make up in my thirties.

I started with lipstick.

I carry approximately seven to eight of them in my makeup bag.

I can do without the mascara, blush, powder, eye makeup, but don’t take away my lip gloss man.

“I couldn’t stop staring at your mouth,” she said to me one night after a get together, “it’s so, so, uh, glossy, what do you use?”

I love lip gloss.

Not too sticky though.

I am not a fan of the sticky gloss.

My hair gets caught in it, my lips feel funny, and it’s not good for kissing.

I like a creamy lip gloss that has high shine and if it glitters excellent.

If not, I make something happen.

No body is going to read this post, it’s all about lip gloss.

Bahahahaha.

I could briefly write about glitter.

Like the helmet I am going to get to accompany my Vespa.

Oh, don’t worry, I will make sure it is DOT approved.

I am not an idiot.

I just glitter like one.

Another new thing to learn and experience, the scooter thing, that is.

Two weeks from today at approximately this time I will be wrapping up my first of three days of motorcycle safety class.

Seems a bit surreal that all the sudden it’s happening.

But that’s how things happen.

Just out of the blue.

Yet, I know that a lot of work had to preface this decision.

I was thinking as I cautiously navigated my way home tonight, it was starting to rain on the way back, that I have really in a short period of time come a very long way.

I was completely broke when I landed at SFO in May.

I mean broke.

I had ten dollars in my wallet.

Nine months later I am living in a nice studio that is fully furnished with full-time work, having paid off the debt to Barnaby, travelled once to Florida, gone to Burning Man, re-established myself, and my wardrobe, have a smidge of money in savings toward a new laptop, am fed, housed, and taken care of.

And I am getting a scooter.

How amazing.

I really do show up and do the work.

I don’t always let myself see how willing I am to try to do.

To be taught.

Even when I get scared to show up and fumble around.

I don’t have to be perfect on Sunday.

I just need to show up.

Rain or shine.

I will be there.

I get to be of service and learn.

Not a bad way to spend a Sunday.

Plus, come on, it’s on a music video shoot!

Good times.


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