Simple Saturday

Sticking with her usual patterns, Mother Nature tossed out something just shy of a scorcher this weekend in Southern California.  Yes I realize waxing on about the weather is so blah-de-blah, but guess what?  It's bloody fall, bloggers are donning fur and sweaters as we speak, and there is simply no way in the name of perspiring underarms that I'm about to get in on that game.  Instead I spent Saturday morning staring blindly into my closet trying to come up with something other than shorts to wear.  Refusing to get into an outfit frenzy--you know the ones where half the closet goes flying around the room don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about--I spotted my favorite shoes, quickly tossed on a pair of jeans and a blouse that's never made it onto the blog.  Goal:  Don't over think it or it'll be 5pm before you know it.

Upon emerging from the house I was hit with a wave of heat that almost had me spin on my heel and head back inside, but margaritas were calling and there was no time to delay.  I managed to grab my camera on the way out the door, but as fate aka Instagram would have it the battery was left in the charger.  Niiiiice.  This evening I contemplated renaming the blog:   My Life On Instagram.  Has a little ring to it, don't you think?  

Outfit:  Zara-Blouse, Current/Elliott-Boyfriend Jeans, Gap-Cami, 

Dulce-Clogs seen here and here aka good old days, Sorial-Bag

Have you ever bought something, wondered if you'll ever wear it and then it turns out to 

rescue you from wardrobe block on a regular basis?  For me that is this Zara Blouse.

So happy I didn't leave it behind.  Now need a couple more just like it...

These shoes get so much wear in my day to day life.  

The company closed and I've regretted not getting a second pair almost every day since.

*Insert rationing the shoes here*

Nothing like a cold margarita on a hot day.  And yes we were able to sit outside.

It was bloody 85 degrees in the middle of the afternoon!

Anyway, I am looking for some sort of jolt to the closet because trying to get my fall on in summer weather is basically a drag.  I wake up in the morning, think about a light sweater and then laugh at myself as the sun beams through the window giving my arm a tan.  Good luck with that one, Carrie!  Shortly after margaritas I spent some time window shopping and left feeling somewhat deflated.  Is it me or does everything kind of look the same right now?  It's that whole 80's thing yawwwwn.  I saw some little kid in a pair of neon pink socks and a green neon skirt.  It took everything in me not to scream, "Do you even know who Madonna IS?" I mean hel-looo Desperately Seeking Susan!  

That being said, unless Dallas Raines (local weather guy) tells me otherwise, prepare for a resurgence of my somewhat tan faded legs this week.  I'll just stand idly by while everyone in blog world strolls by in their various fur, leather, and sweater ensembles.  Anyone for a mid-summer hippie vibe?

The Hair Chronicles

Friends I would like to formally announce 'Victory on the Hair Front'.

Yesterday I woke up with a crick in my neck (truth be told I had one before I went to bed and was so wound up I could barely turn to the right, but panic attacks aside...) feeling like it was the day of a big exam.  Thankfully I'm way out of University, but clearly my body remembers the terror/exhilaration just as though it was yesterday.  My appointment was for 1pm.  Picture it:  me breaking out in a sweat and fanning the underarms at top speed.  Suddenly the phone rings:  appointment pushed back to 1:30.  Whew!  Perspiration instantly subsides.  Imagine that.  Shortly thereafter phone rings again:  appointment pushed back to 2:00.  I'm feeling like going outside for a stroll.  What am I thinking?!?

Next thing you know it's go time.  I hop in the car and head south.  Wait a second--why is everyone stopping?  Why am I sitting here, on PCH in the middle of nowhere, at 1:35pm?? What's that?  A commercial being filmed.  Oh hell no.  Not today.  Yes today.  Cut to 15 minutes later and I'm now jammed on another part of the highway for 'road construction' aka a bunch of guys standing around twiddling their thumbs all day long while three lanes go down to one for what seems like eternity.  I call the salon, 'I could be 10 minutes late. I'm jammed!' Attitude on the other end.  Yes.  I've been delayed an hour and now I get attitude.  I don't care.  I want my hair cut damn you!!

Five minutes late I run in having dropped only one eff bomb on the valet who announces, at the valet podium stand thing, that he's not taking anymore cars.  Then what the hell are you standing there for??  Wheeling through the parking lot like a crazy bird I find a spot, jump out and scream to the 16 year old valet kid:  'Sorry for the eff bomb, buddy.  I'm running late!'  He laughs.  Thank God for the youth.

Two hours later I emerge, triumphantly. The Hair Genius aka Dusty Simington has worked his magic.  I'm knot free AND he wanted to keep the length.  This is the sound of elation.  Exhilaration.  My hair swinging in the wind.  Can you hear it?

All I had was my phone to take pictures, but here it is in all its glory.

3.5 inches later I'm still standing.

Length intact, I can carry onward to a celebratory cocktail.

Speaking of which are we done yet?

Yes. We are.  I can now look forward to haircuts again.

Seeing as I sucked it on the blog posts this week here's a full outfit shot.

I went in prepared:  expressing my inner hippie and wrapped in fringe.

Security blanket.

Seriously though, not since my Canadian hair stylist (who I've seen for 20 years and still see when I go home) have I been so happy with my hair, the cut and the person who cut it.  I have fine hair but a lot of it, so most people can't understand how to cut and thin it out.  And once you've had a really good precision cut, anything less is just depressing (think dog ears).  Dusty killed it.  He's got a great eye, has cut hair for years and is hilarious.  I'd trust him to take it shorter--and that says a lot for someone who lost almost all her hair 8 years ago and has painstakingly grown it back.  Thanks for all your notes of encouragement on the hair front.  I was busting up at the tweets and facebook messages--it's a bird family affair! 

Have a great weekend everyone!

Twists and Turns--Hair and Otherwise

Remember last week when I was going on about work projects and eating cookies for breakfast, lunch and dinner due to busy schedule?  Well what a difference a week makes.  Suddenly it's dead in the water, deadlines having been met, and now there's an uneasy stillness in the air that has resulted in me spending far too much time perusing the internets obsessing over hairdos.  More specifically I've been freaking out about the impending haircut that will take place on Thursday.

Yeah, yeah it's superficial and the least of concerns seeing as people in the world need food, shelter and healthcare.  I get that.  And am actually among some of those people on the healthcare front, but that's another blog for another time.  This one's about life and hair and how to make sure I don't walk out looking like the victim of a drunken Edward Scissorhands (top 10 fave movies of all time).  Here's one of my issues:  I get to talking to the haircutter and before you know it we're laughing our heads off about something.  Cut to scene (aka my head) where I've not really voiced what I wanted therefore the individual has just kind of gone off willy nilly.  The next thing I know the blowdryer's on and it's kind of like opening a surprise gift:  you're hoping for the best, but bracing for what may turn out to be not the best whilst doing your best to paste on a smile that won't show your true feelings.  

Am I the only one who gets carried away talking to the hair people?  They're truly some of the most fun people out there in my opinion.  Anyway, I had my lid colored yesterday and it is absolutely beyond fabulous.  I can't unveil due to inability to take a picture of myself.  I just can't do it.  I feel like a cuckoo bird.  

Instead let us pause and have a moment together as I prep myself to maintain a level of seriousness on Thursday.  I'm focusing on the following pictures and chanting as follows:  "I'm in a hippie phase and don't want much taken off.  Please just bring some life and shape back to the hair."  In my more frenzied moments I practice, "Put those scissors down!! Didn't you hear me say I want no more than 2 inches taken off?!"

I don't even have this much hair to begin with, but this would be a dream hairstyle to me.

Somewhere Vanessa Hudgens remembers having these days--and curses her now short locks. 

Maybe not, but I can't help wondering.

This is pure magique--her, her hair, the straggly ends--all of it.

Yesterday's conversation with self went like this:  "I think I'll get bangs.  You can't get bangs.  Look at her bangs.  I wonder if I could pull off bangs?  No you can't.  Ever since your brother dropped that can on your head when you were five you can't get a proper part."

Hello ageless woman.  

Why does your hair never frizz?

 And can we please discuss how to replicate prior to Thursday?  

Either way the guy I'm going to is a hair genius and will probably do most of whatever he wants anyway.  A couple years ago he gave me a great cut so I'm looking forward to visiting him--albeit with a might bit of trepidation.  Wish me luck.  He's a cutter.  And I don't mean that in the self-inflicting pain way. If you have any other images I could share with him, please do feel free to suggest and/or forward.  The more focused I can be going in, the better chance I'll have of staying focused and selling my case for longer vs. shorter hair.  

Did I mention I haven't cut my hair since the end of December last year? Uh yeah, get there.