If you know me you know that my hair is rarely one color for very long. Which prompts the question “How do you still have hair?” Honestly, I can’t answer that. I acknowledge that I am #blessed to have hair still, and I appreciate whatever higher power is allowing me to keep it. #BlessUp
So, I thought I would share with you some of my faaavorite looks over the years, and give you some insight on what I had to do to get there. Please, let it inspire you to go do something wild so I can live through youuuu with my boring blonde hair.
I am a licensed professional. Please, do not try to do these yourselves, it will not work out. How do I know that you ask? Because half of these did not turn out great right away and I actually have the base knowledge. Also as a further disclaimer, some of these were done in one step. HOWEVER, they totally shouldn’t have been (I’m just really impatient). If your stylist tells you the transformation is going to take multiple sessions…TRUST THEM.
Also. None of these alone damaged my hair, but the process I take should have made me bald. I go from red, to blonde, to brown, to pink, to blonde, to orange, etc…..I make terrible hair decisions.
Nice Is Just A Place In France is a really great book I read several years ago, that is rocking a solid 3 star review on amazon. You wanna know why? I’ll tell you…
…because its not nice…..
It is not a self-help book and everything in here is meant to be taken with a grain of salt. People pick this up and want a cushion-y book that will walk them along the path to get whatever they want. That is not what happens here, this is a book is more for people who know they are a bitch, but are scared of the bitch living within.
First of all, is it travel anxiety or is it just real ass anxiety? It is almost impossible to tell. I feel like travel anxiety is all your regular anxieties, heightened because of the fact you do not get to be at home. However, whatever it is, its god awful. I almost passed up the opportunity of a lifetime because I was too nervous to leave. Just think of all the things that could go wrong! Do I have something in my carry on thats going to flag me as a terrorist? Is my checked bag being thrown around all willy nilly? What if I miss my flight even though I’m 2 hours early?
So, thats what I did, thought of all the minute things that could go wrong. My friend did the honors of googling the chances of plane crashes, and dying in plane crashes. Which are somewhere in the 1 in 5.5 million of a plane crashing. So, then I had to prepare myself for what to do in the event of a plane crash. They say not to take your stuff with you, but like, I am absolutely taking my stuff. What if we’re stranded on a remote island (somewhere between Ohio and Burbank CA) and I need a blanket, or the 5th Harry Potter book?? Yeah nice try Amanda the flight attendant, but I’ll be taking my stuff.
In a very weird, and highly unusual turn of events, I won a contest. I win very few things, like VERY FEW. This wasn’t any ‘enter for your chance to win 50 cents off your order of 50 dollars or more’ either. I won a spot to watch The Oscars red carpet live and in action. In case you missed it, I take award season VERY seriously. So this is like if Snooki from Jersey Shore won a trip to a functioning pickle and vodka factory. A match made in heaven.
SO, how the fresh hell did this happen?
Its a funny story. I was on the academy website to see if they had any jobs available, because every business needs assistants and stuff right? How awesome would it be to work for The Oscars?? Well too bad, no jobs. But I did stumble upon a page to enter a contest sponsored by The Academy Museum to send you and a guest to sit and watch the red carpet, so whatever. I’ll enter any contest. Flash forward to literally MONTHS later.
I have been suffering for as long as I can remember. There may have been a brief clearing of the fog, but that was when N*SYNC took a ‘temporary hiatus’ and then never came back, SO I was still suffering. Anxiety is funny, it makes you ruin your own life. Anxiety makes you sit there and feel like you are all alone, you are the only living person who feels like this. WHILE AT THE SAME TIME, it makes you sit there and think… okay 40 million whole people also have this, so nobody really cares about mine. What am I going to do? Just go up and be like “man I really feel overwhelmed today” just so someone else can tell me “yeah…me too….and 40 million other people….get over it, it’s normal”.
I cannot make phone calls, I cannot hang out with my friends (no matter how badly I want to), I can’t sleep through the night without an anxiety attack, I cant finish my homework because i’m too anxious to start it because what if I don’t finish it….Does this shit seem normal to you?
Alright, I am leery of purchasing something that is advertised from ‘meme box’, mostly because that really doesn’t sounds like a place I’d want to get my skincare from. I picture a ‘meme box’ a box full of tide pods and distracted boyfriends. However, I saw a photo of disco kitten mask and it really did look like some unicorn blood shit. It was so luminous, shiny and silver. It has to be what Paris Hiltons sweat looks like.
I also really don’t like peel off masks, due to the fact that they really are not that good for you. Sure peel off masks make your skin feel so clean and fresh and you can look at all the stuff it pulled out. Well, that is why it is bad. You should not be ripping shit out of your pores, it is only going to make your pores look larger. Pores are best cleaned through steaming them open and shit like that, not ripping them open.
2 words. Award. Season
(Skip to the bottom for the drinking game)
I live for award season. I have my sheets, my data, my research, MY CHAMPAGNE, and I’m ready. The Golden Globes is often referred to the beginning of red carpet (award) season. The kick off the season and the larger awards follow afterwards. Not that the Golden Globes ARE NOT an important award, they are just the most fun so they are taken less seriously. The Golden Globes are mostly known for the bottomless supply of Moët, a.k.a, my wildest dream. I actually purchased moët champagne sippers for splits of champagne (available on ebay). So mixed with the endless champagne, and the first red carpet of the year, it makes for a very very interesting show. And I like to drink along..
I have said it once and I will say it again, New Years resolutions are garbage. They are not a binding contract (I don’t know, they could be, I’m still waiting on final grades and I think I might have failed contracts. EVERYTHING AND NOTHING IS A BINDING CONTRACT) and realistically, nobody is going to hold anybody to their promises.
It’s just an excuse to make a really long facebook post that nobody will laugh at you for because everybody is feeling all spiritual and open, even though as soon as they’re done writing about their new profound outlook on life they’re going to have they’re making fun of Tammy’s chunky super cut highlights.
You’re not fooling me. If I MUSTTT make some resolutions for the new year, I prefer to keep them broad. Otherwise it turns into a weird morbid bucket list with an expiration date. Without any further ado:
Reverse Bucket List
New Years resolutions are so dumb. I can’t ever think of something I want to do. I want abs and not be out of breath when I walk up the stairs, but I’m not prepared to take the necessary steps to get there. So no, I don’t want to make my resolution to go to the gym more and no I most certainly do not want to go to the gym with you. I don’t want to have some generic resolutions that I don’t really want to do in the first place, like go to the gym and eat better and drink less and meditate. I WANT TO DO COOL SHIT. But like, what kind of cool shit…? When presented with open ended personal questions I freak out.
“If you could live anywhere in the world where would you want to live?”
ummmm… I dont know, Columbus is pretty cool? Maybe Ann Arbor?
A blast from the past
There were few things I looked forward to more than when all my magazines came in the mail. You know, Vogue, Elle, Glamour, all the magazines that you never ordered but somehow got delivered every month and you have no idea who is paying for them. Today was the day I had to purge 99% of the magazines I have amassed, because the top of my closet was about to cave in. I looked through so many magazines today, 2012-present day. There were so many great finds in these magazines, so many lost trends, so many old editorals. Gigi pre-Taylor squad. I feel like Stefon, “These magazines have everrrrythingggg.”
The top photo are the only magazines I elected to keep. It was hard to pick, but like a true eighth grader, I ripped out all the pictures I liked and set the rest of the magazine aside. I couldn’t help but pick out a few things that I miss.