Easter

Went to church this morning. Not that unusual of an activity as it were. But seeing as it is Easter, I gussied up and sat up straight while I listened to one of my least favorite priests (from a preaching perspective) blither on about the "other" Christians (hence my dislike).

There was a very nice family next to us, and the little girl from story time was there too. My entire pew was dressed up. The church other the other hand was filled with women in capri pants and men in jeans. I saw more than my fair share of tee shirts and an entire pew filled with girls in slutty dresses with converse high-tops in varying shades.

What happened to Easter dresses?

Hair

My hair has been the bane of my existence and the highlight of my vanity for forever. And today (this is not the first today either) I wanted it all gone. I want it chopped off, poof gone. But I didn't because everyone told me no, it'll make your face look fat, and your head look big and blah blah blah. So instead I ended up with bangs, they hang straight down into my eyes gradually getting longer as they get farther from the center point of my face and "frame my face." The points of the long parts point to my chin after laying across my cheeks. Everyone raves about how good it looks but I'm more adamant about cutting it all off, except now I can't because it's too short in the front.

For the past 23 years I've been told by every adult I've encountered to get the hair out of my face. My grandmother has gone as far as buying barrettes and bobby pins while we were out for the day to keep it pinned back. My mother yells at me to fix it. So now my hair can only hang in my eyes and it apparently looks good, Its touching my eye lashes, and my cheeks, how is this good?

The other complaint I've gotten for the majority of my life is to keep my hands off my face, its a bit of a neurosis for me, it has a name and its a normal coping mechanism for fatigue and stress, its all about reassuring yourself. I live a life where I need to cope apparently and am constantly making sure my face is still attached to my body but it also causes the occasional (haha) breakout. Now my hair, laden with mousse and serum is laying on my face, tickling it and irritating my eyes, tomorrow I'll have a brand new break out to contend with not to mention the stress hives that seem to be getting worse instead of better.

I don't think people understand why I'm so upset, the haircut looks nice, but its not me. Actually it belongs to Rachel McAdams in Morning Glory, or at least the previews on TV. And, for fuck sake, they tell her in those previews that her hair is a problem so why do I want this haircut?

But beyond the fact that I hate it touching my face and I can't see through it, I now have monochromatic hair. I have never had monochromatic hair. My hair has been delightful enough to highlight naturally and hold onto its color palate through the winter but all of the lighter highlights have been cut out of my hair, no more front streak, it's all drab dirty blond.

And if another person says it looks good with my shoes I'm going to scream. I only wear these shoes a few times a month so how does it help me?

Maybe I'll grow to like it. I can't do anything about it now, but please stop telling me it looks good and you don't understand the problem. If you like it so much go cut five inches off your hair and then cut feathered bangs into it. I don't have to like it because you do.

Boots Sweet, Boots Sweet the Wonderful Candy You Wear on Your Feet

I have never quite understood the power of a boot. People love them. I have only been wearing these magic shoes for 14 months and they have changed my life. I love them. They're warm and cozy and they make my naked legs less naked, and somehow add a touch of sex appeal to an outfit even without adding a stupid 17 inch platformed heel.

As it begins to be consistently cold I am compelled to wear my boots more, for obvious reasons, my feet stay warm and dry and the truck drivers, strange homeless-looking outlet shoppers and occasional lesbian flock to me in droves with kind complements that both perplex me and make me smile (and turn a nice shade of purple). Take today, the truck driver who drops off our shipment told me I looked too nice and smelled too nice to be working shipment, he also told me he liked my boots and fishnets (Logan did warn me, they are a bit whorish).

Maybe if I go out into real public places, ones that aren't filled with women and bargain shoppers, in my fantastic boots I'll win the lust, and in turn the heart, of a man who is not wearing a sports jersey or complaining that his job driving places and dropping things off is too hard. I don't need much just a bit of intelligence and understanding for I will have to take my boots off at some point and this poor man will be left with feet!