Try something new

 

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I took a chance and tried something new, a permanent hair dye! I have to say I’m not too disappointed so far, 24 hours later. It’s Revlon’s Cornsilk, Ammonia Free, Burgundy.

Typically, when I play with my hair color I stick with temporary dyes and usually in the apricot range. My hair is thinner so I try to avoid ammonia and other harshness, not to mention that the last permanent coloring I tried turned carrot orange in my blond hair. So no bueno.

The coloring is spot on with the box, and it covered my grey too (shhhh). What in not thrilled about is that it has no highlighting or color variation so it looks like it came from a box. What I do like, other than the color accuracy, is the conditioner it came with left my hair softer than it was prior; I can’t stop touching it.

I’m not sure if I will go burgundy again, it’s fun but not quite fitting my mood right now. Truth be told it was my favorite shade when I was in high school, but reconstructing my high school self is not my goal; I’m not the same mixed up mess I was back then.

The best part of expressing yourself through body art, like fun hair colors, is that it encourages you to play with the rest of your look. I guess it’s like they say, if you want to clean a room then but something new and pretty to decorate that room, it motivated you to clean. Speaking of which I have been on WordPress much too long today and need to finish of my cleaning list.

Good night all, don’t be scared to try something new.

My life as a Hanes T

What is it about a Hanes crew neck t-shirt that is so comforting? Not the ones that you buy that hang on racks, but the undershirts which are rolled and packed in fours. Soft, thin and somewhat stretchy, they cling and hang just right showing off curves and waist, hiding what you don’t want seen and showing of what you do. 

Maybe it’s because I was an 80’s child and a  90’s teen; tight shirts and really baggy jeans. Maybe it’s because I’m the daughter of children who lived the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s and the image and attitude of jeans and the thin Hanes crew neck undershirts are engrained in my brain and DNA, the one ensemble that remained constant in both look and attitude over the decades, linking and uniting. I guess that would be more of a link to my dad as my mom was not a jeans and t-shirt woman, more bell bottoms and more girly tops growing up and a mix of slacks and jeans and blouses as an adult; I am not her. 

I play rough, love hard, am extremely loyal, very perceptive and intuitive, cute, honest, caring, shy, jaded, soft, broken, angry…ok maybe I am part her. I’m a girl but not typically girly. I have girly tops and one or two skirts even, but once I slide on nice fitting jeans and a Hanes t-shirt I feel right. Maybe it’s the attitude that has been associated with the look; bad boys, badass females. Maybe it’s how it looks and feels on me. Either way it fits my mood and personality, hugging me when I need encouragement, caressing me when I’m insecure or hurting, clinging to remind me I’m a woman, and allowing me space to move if I need to knock someone on their ass.

Simple, comfortable, dependable…it’s me.

Death and rebirth

I always feel torn. Torn between family and freedom, fun and responsibility, myself and my kid, right and wrong, God and my desires…I have so many internal conflicts, I know they manifest externally and are holding me back.

I have always heard that a person’s house or appearance is a reflection of them. I always thought this referred to their taste and style, but now I see it is deeper, it is a reflection of their internal self. In my case I’m a mess of conflicts as a result my house is as well. It’s “lived in,” appears somewhat orderly but there is mess within the order with a bunch of stuff shoved away to be dealt with, but never gotten to.

I know that I let my looks go somewhat after my ex was killed. I gained weight, stopped wearing make up, and I don’t put much into my clothes or hair. I know I did this semi consciously at first, I hated guys hitting on me and got tired of rejecting them and explaining why (to myself more than them). I let myself go so that I didn’t have to keep thinking about moving on with someone else. Maybe I did the same with my house, it takes the choice out of my hands.

My house has ties to my ex. I met him on my front porch, he was at his God sister’s party who just so happened to be my neighbor. We clicked, spent the whole night on the phone. I made him wait 6 months before I agreed to see him again, but we talked daily. We were virtually inseparable, he loved my son and I so much and constantly took us out. Chuck E Cheese and the park to watch the boats and talk became or routine with family and other fun mixed in. I would have married him, he’s the only one I ever felt like that about. He even asked me once, not officially a proposal, but he asked and I said not yet, we hadn’t been together long and for me marriage is for life. I told him one day, yes, but for now let’s keep getting to know each other. Eventually we broke up, he felt rejected and drifted eventually. We moved on, things were ok even though I missed him. We had just reunited not long before he was attacked.

Knowing that he was no longer in this world killed me, it was completely different from moving on from a break up, you can’t rebound and fill that void. It’s like wet sand, no matter how much you try to clear away to fill with something different the sand will keep refilling to quickly.

Many years have passed. I’ve healed in many ways, but now I’m stalled. Where do I go from here? I’m ready to move forward, to re-imurge, but I’m holding myself back. I need reclaim my house, my looks, my confidence, and move forward somehow carrying the love he had for me instead of the baggage.