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Pardon the construction

I’m trying to set up a few new shiny pages for a minor blog expansion, so don’t be dismayed if there are some crazy things happening in the next few hours.



I’ve decided recently to inject my everyday appearance with a bit more glamor; I want to dress up all the time, since I certainly have the wardrobe for it.  This begins not while prepping to go out on a Friday night, but actually while I’m taking a shower on a Tuesday night, it would seem.  Today, you see, I’m taking about hair again.  Normally I shower at night and tie my hair up in a braid so that when it comes out in the morning, it gives me a nice flip effect where someone else’s bangs might be:

It’s the very definition of bedhead.  But anyway, while I was standing under last night’s bit of water, I decided I’d go all Irish Dancer and break out my spike curlers.  I still have these from my competitive dancing days and have used them before on my ends for a nice retro end wave.  This time I decided to go all out.

If you’ve never seen spike curlers in someone’s hair, or if you’ve never seen me without makeup despite my worst efforts, feast your eyes:

I feel like there is a bald patch in my left eyebrow that will never grow back.  Ha.  Anyway, these babies do not make for a restful night of sleep, but they’re ultimately worth it.

Even after a full day of work, my hair is going strong…

I kind of like the excitement.  This hair, coupled with my taking the time to put on fancy seamed stockings, had me smiling all day even though it was a pretty rainy, run-of-the-mill day at work.

Of course, what kind of self-respecting hair-owner (???) would I be if I didn’t mention what I’m using in my hair?  Currently, I really love Big for shampoo–and it’s not because of my employment history or my affinity for Biggie.  It gets my hair really clean and shiny, and I dig the sea salt.  I follow that with a dollop of American Cream and finish it off with a little Moroccanoil when I get out of the shower.

It’s a pretty low-maintenance routine.  It’s going to get even more low-key in about two weeks.  Details on that to come in my general new year/fresh start post, probably tomorrow.  Maybe next time I’ll also get into makeup.  Just not tonight, as it’s getting late and I have my next trip to the hospital in the yearly gamut of doctor’s office runs coming up tomorrow morning.  Don’t worry, guys, I’m not dying.

I mean, I am dying in the sense that we are all dying and that fatalistic jazz.  Just not planning on it anytime soon.  Thought I’d clear that up.

Last Days

Before my exciting, arbitrarily fresh new year begins, I’ll just wind up this year by posting some pictures from the final days of December, which have been spent largely with my family and my dogs.  January–tomorrow–will kick off a year of great change, some of which I already know about and some of which I have mere dreams of, but today I’ll just think about 2010 a little more.  Happy New Year*, everyone!

our lights show...two deer/unicorns

...aaand the lights show across the street

first white Christmas in Atlanta in over 100 years

*New Year?  New Year’s?  This problem comes up every time I try to write a blog post on New Year’s Eve.  WTF.  This is exactly why I often state that I am not fluent in English even though it’s my native language.

Murder Mystery

Last night I headed over to my friend M’s house to meet up with some of my high school friends and acquaintances for a rousing mystery dinner.  M has a tradition of hosting these: apparently I’ve attended another one years ago where I was the murderer, but I have no recollection of it, even though my mom seems to.  M got waylaid by all the snow in New York and figured that she could use the extra days in the ATL to host a dinner party.

I was given my character description the morning of the party.  It included such words as “mysterious,” “bohemian,” and “bring something to munch on.”  I didn’t have anything bohemian, per se, but fortunately, I do have a lot of random crazy clothes around the house.  I sort of went the mystical route instead, which worked out quite nicely for me.  And I showed up with spinach artichoke dip.

I. went. all. out.  Nobody else went quite as out as I did, but I was pretty much expecting that.  Y’all know that I like dressing up, though, so I didn’t mind.  You may even recognize some of these clothes from previous posts on this little blog.

We played The Icicle Twist. (SPOILER ALERT: the murder weapon is an icicle!)  I wasn’t the murderer this time, but I did end up having a pretty sweet ski bum lover and a promising career as a double agent.

Mystical Alicia with Buzzy, the coke-dealing, blackmailing ski bum a.k.a. my almost high school prom date

Flight attendant, Buzzy, Alicia

Director of National Defense enjoys his s'mores

This was really, really fun.  I would like to do more of these at some point when I am in a position to host dinner parties and have a lot of friends over.  Which isn’t right now because things are definitely in flux.

Tea party

Maybe a week ago, I went to high tea at the St. Regis with A.Sals and our two moms.  It seems that whenever we get together, the talk doesn’t stop for hours and hours.  A.Sals and I have come up with some pretty awesome business ideas (è vero, d’oro!) and we, both living with our parents, get the opportunity to shoot the shit while the moms get to talk about mom things.

Tea was cool.  The hotel was pretty swank, and the tea itself was lovely.  The food was strange, diminutive, and entertaining, and the lacking service gave us sort of a common rallying point.  It’s pretty fun to get dressed up, so I was really glad that A.Sals dreamed up this excursion.  Unfortunately, there were no great pictures of me taken, so I can’t show off what I was wearing, even though it’s one of my favorite dresses.  I did get plenty of pictures, however, of the beautiful opalescent interior of the tea room, the plush chairs, and obviously A.Sals herself, who seemed to instinctively dress to match the hotel.

I think that’s it’s pretty important to find excuses to dress up, especially if you feel like you’re stuck in a rut at work or at home, or if you’re at the lowest depths of winter introversion and all you want to do is watch Skins.  I am too good at talking myself out of social interactions in favor of sitting in bed and being boring, and so I tend to make myself some iron-clad appointments so that I’m forced to get out of the house.  I just wish that more of my outings included a fancy dress code.

Merry Christmas!

One of my few Christmas traditions is putting on this one pair of underwear every Christmas morning.  I’ve had the underwear since before I can remember, and by some miracle of metaphysics, it stills fit me.  They live year-round in my drawer, the one possession that I can put my hands on instantly if I need to.

CHEERS has become sort of a joke in my house, so it’s with great [joy/mirth/slight embarrassment] that I pass it on to you.  Merry Christmas, everyone!

Your e-present is an optical palate cleanser, an undo button for your eyes: a more normal holiday picture of me, wearing my gift from Allison and Kevin.

Smile! You’re on candid screencap

More from the It’s Not Just Me; It’s Also You files…a.k.a. my desktop full of screen caps of gchat conversations… No gchatting friend of mine is safe!  Not when I can still command-shift-4!

This week’s theme: proof that I’m not the only crazy person I know.

I’m not actually sure if this first friend reads my blog, so I don’t want to volunteer her name without her knowledge and I tried to blur it out.  (But hello if you do!)

This second one reads better if you think of it as a collaborative poem of sorts.  (I am joking but the last few lines really amuse if taken as such.  Bear with me.)

Dan is winning the contest for most philosophical gchat musings, by the way.  Anyone else wanna step up their games?