Posts Tagged ‘Urban Decay’

I Might Be Feeling It

December 31, 2016

My new hair, that is.

OMG.

I feel like Snow White.

I love, love, love it.

LOVE.

I’m back to my “natural” color.

I haven’t had this hair color in about four years and it was brief at that.

It feels good to be brunette again.

And.

Though I hate to say it, age appropriate, which equals sexy as fuck in my book.

44 you look pretty damn good.

fullsizeoutput_dacYes.

That is a lot of cleavage, Virginia.

But fuck it.

Once in a while a lady is going to feel her oats.

I almost.

But no, I did not, re-load the Tinder app to my phone.

I realize that I don’t really need it and the validation is nice, but it’s not real.

I want someone to see me in real life and go, yes, I want her.

And.

Then.

Ask me out.

That’s the feel of it.

I always feel a little sassy after I have a new hair do and this is no different.

Except that it is.

It feels the most me that I have felt in ages.

I’m not trying to be anyone different from who I am.

Granted I may feel differently when my hair gets curly.

Which it will do.

I got a blow out at the salon and it will last a day, max two, if I don’t go to yoga in the morning and I don’t shower.

Now.

I did shower today.

And.

I could possibly beg off yoga since I’m still sick.

Not as bad as yesterday, I woke up without the tightness in my chest, but I had to bail on dinner tonight with a friend after doing the deal as I could feel it settling back in and the last thing I wanted to do was be out longer and get chilled and have it come back with a vengeance.

Especially since tomorrow night is New Year’s Eve and for the first time in a long time I have plans to go out to a party.

I had been invited to one in the East Bay, and man it’s tempting, a lot of my favorite people will be there.

But.

East Bay.

And no car and I don’t want to BART, even though, yes, it runs until 3 a.m.

I decided to get tickets to a semi-private event at a friends gym here in town.

He’s doing a “Fight Club” themed party.

Which makes sense since he owns a gym.

There will be lots of people I know, some doing the deal, and good djs and dancing.

I’m psyched to go and I want to feel good and healthy for it.

And yes.

I do, um, perhaps want to sport my sexy as fuck new hair.

I’ve been contemplating going back to my natural color now for a little bit now.

I had at first thought about just chopping out the blonde and the pink, but I realized, no, I rather like my long hair and I like that the longer it gets the curlier my hair gets and when it’s short, it tends toward wavy, not curly.

Here’s for curls.

So when I went to the MOMA on Wednesday with my dearest friends, who both happen to be taste makers for a living, one in retail fashion and the other in interior design, I asked.

“What do you think if I went back to my natural hair color?”

And they both gave it a big, big, big thumbs up.

Ok then.

I got home, hopped on the phone and made a call.

I got in!

I was surprised that I was able to snag a spot so close to New Year’s Eve, but it happened and I got great color and an awesome cut.

Harper Paige Salon.

Love you guys!

It was a faster process than going blonde and I was grateful for that as I had some time left on my meter and I skipped over to Sephora.

New hair.

New lipstick.

Duh.

I got an Urban Decay.

Oil Slick.

And.

A new Kat Von D.

Motorhead.

I love how both are dark and sexy and a tiny bit sinister sounding.

I’m rather all sweetness and light at the moment.

But I’ll go with dark and sexy too.

I’m single.

Dark and sexy could catch me a few dates.

Fingers crossed.

And perhaps I am feeling my oats.

But.

This is my year.

I feel it.

I feel it in my bones.

I’m excited for it.

The new contract for work.

Moving forward in my school program.

New hair.

Which is just really, “old hair” but it’s been such a long time that it feels like a new me, just a slightly more polished, a tiny bit more refined (unruly will be on the scene soon when the blow out fades of, but I can say polished for at least the next twelve hours), fresh, and pretty.

It does also feel just that.

Pretty.

Which I’m also down for.

Dear God.

I have just written nearly my entire blog about my hair.

Hahahahaha.

I’m not-self centered, really, bahahahahaha.

Sorry.

So.

So.

So.

Stupidly self-centered.

But also.

God help me, quite happy.

I did something completely for me.

Going blonde, the last time I did it, was for someone else.

Granted I wanted to, but I wanted to even more when he wanted it too.

This was all about me.

How to make myself happy.

How to please myself.

Not about a man, a woman, a job, another person.

Just for me.

It turns out I like making myself happy.

I should remember this the next time I’m feeling remorse.

I deserve to feel happy and I have all the power and capabilities to make myself happy.

No one completes me.

I am complete.

With just a tiny bit.

More.

Um.

Sexy.

Yeah.

Like that.

 

You’re Back!

June 2, 2015

My friend announced and happily hugged me.

I hugged him right back.

Yes.

I’m back.

I mean, I was back yesterday, but I was still pretty out of it.

I was exhausted.

I mean tuckered the fuck out.

Traveling will do that to me and as I start to look forward to the summer months (summer?  What summer, that fog this morning!), it is June first, hello how did that happen?  I realized that I should accommodate this realization a bit more than I may have in the past.

For instance.

When I go to Burning Man I usually push as hard as possible and stay as long as possible and then go right back to work pretty much the next day.

I have to think about that this year.

Do I want to be wearing myself out that much right as I start graduate school?

If I was tired after hanging with my family for three and a half days, what the hell is Burning Man going to look like?

However.

There is something different about Burning Man than my family.

I have created my own community and family there and I know how to act, I was not anxious or stressed at my grandma’s but I did find myself being far quieter and just spending a lot of time observing, I had to force myself to engage and not check out.

I can check out without any sort of electronic device, my body is just sitting there, but my brain is 100 miles away.

Being in a new situation with people I barely know and infrequently see is tiring.

I won’t say I was putting on a front, I was just cautiously being me.

I found myself slipping into that place where I get quiet enough I may disappear.

Perhaps that is why I do hair geographics and wear loud makeup.

Although, I dearly love my crazy hair and exotic makeup.

I was putting it on this morning in between making a second pour over cup of coffee, and I realized with a bit of a chuckle, that any other woman would consider what I was doing as going out to the club makeup.

Eye primer, concealer, powder, three different shades of eyeshadow (all Urban Decay) smudged together for a nice hazy smoky eye, two different eye liners, one liquid, the other kohl, eye brow powder, one liquid blush, “Orgasm” by Nars, and a powder blush, “Cabana Boy” (let’s just cut through the bullshit and say today I am wearing sex on a stick) by The Balm, and mascara.

That sounds like a lot.

Right?

But no.

Just my normal going to nanny make up.

No wonder one of my previous employers asked me to assist on a make up session for a video, I like makeup.

So even if I’m quiet, you know, I’m seen.

The person who doesn’t really see me well is myself, so sometimes I am not sure I need all the extra stuff, but man, it’s fun to play with.

And I could do more, I don’t know how to contour my cheekbones or shade and I don’t use foundation and well, uh, anyway I don’t know when this became a blog for Sephora.

It was good to get back into my routine.

The writing, the breakfast, the ride into work on my bicycle, the boys, who were such little peaches and so good to see.

“I just want to curl up and cuddle, Carmen Cat,” he said as I read him the new Dr. Seuss book I had been given to give to the boys, “I love you, meow!” He finished, squeezed himself into a little ball and tucked his head under my chin.

How can a girl resist that?

it was good to get back in with my people after work too, I missed the fellowship and I did not get out as much as I had thought I was going to.

Not usually my M.O.

And tonight when I got home.

I could feel it.

A rapid fire house cleaning was going to happen.

Sweep.

Swiffer.

Scrub down the bathroom sink.

Take out the trash, like the houses trash, the three big bins, to the curb, and then I tossed myself in the shower and washed my very pink hair.

I had a moment in the shower when I thought, will I be a therapist with pink hair?

Will people go to me?

Will I get referrals?

Ha.

Not something to worry about right now Martines.

Let’s just wait and see about getting into the semester first before worrying about how to dress like a professional.

I’m not there yet.

Where I am, is here.

Freshly scrubbed, shaved, shampoo’ed with the hair drying, some Coleman Hawkins on the stereo (that was something else I realized I missed, I didn’t listen to music at all while I was in Chula Vista, my gram always had the television on, a sort of constant chatter in the background, totally outside my comfort zone–I don’t own a television and I can’t remember the last time I saw so many network commercials or so much news, that in itself wore me down), hot tea on the table in my favorite mug.

Life is good.

I have a full week of work.

I have my typical after work commitments.

I have folks I’ll be meeting up with and doing the deal.

Yay.

Back into my life and my routine, with another experience to tell and share and pass on.

I was telling a friend that I had some expectations about the experience and though they weren’t big ones, I felt that in the back of my head I expected it to be more dramatic.

I would have big old epiphanies.

My life would change.

And of course.

It has.

It did.

Just in small, not quite so glaring ways.

Love is sometimes shy and quiet and the softness of it can go undetected if I am drowning it out with the busy.

Slowing down to my grandmothers pace and sitting, sometimes, for hours not doing much was it’s own kind of revelation.

Being so still on the back swing that the humming birds dive bombed my head on their way to the feeder.

Have you ever had a hummingbird fly close to your head?

It’s loud!

Love.

I love that I am home.

That I am back.

But I also love that I went.

I don’t know what perspective I have gained, more will be revealed, I am sure, but I do know that I did it.

I took action.

I made the amends.

I showed up.

And I got to be a grand-daughter.

I get to be so many things.

Daughter, sister, grand-daughter, niece, cousin, nanny, friend, confidant, mentor, human, lover, partner, student, bicyclist, artist, child of God, blogger, tattooed dragon girl, traveler, Burning Man aficionado.

All the things.

How lucky am I?


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