Tag Archives: style

I Am Who I Am

For my bridal shower a while back, a friend got me a gift certificate to Journelle, a high-end lingerie shop that sells incredibly sexy pieces. Think this:

Screen Shot 2017-11-15 at 9.24.51 AM.png

Last night I realized I still hadn’t used the gift card, so needless to say Eric was excited to hop onto the website with me and peruse their merchandise.

I bought these:

sweatpant.jpg

SIDE POCKETS!!!! img_7492

 

 

 

 

 

The problem with being crazy is that when you do something “crazy,” everyone thinks you’ve gone crazy

And yes, I’m allowed to refer to my mental illness as crazy but no, you are not. Unless you too have a mental illness, and if so, well then, my crazy kindred, I suggest pouring yourself a specialty drink I like to call “The Crazy Kook’s Cocktail” (spoiler alert: it’s wine straight from the bottle) and enjoying the following texts because I’m sure you’ve had to have similar conversations with your loved ones, which are on the one hand extremely sweet because you know they care, but at the same time make you want to throw your wine-bottle-cocktail against a window because AREN’T I JUST ALLOWED TO BE QUIRKY WITHOUT BEING INSANE?!

For context, I have been weaning off my Prozac (with the VERY close monitoring and responsible care of my therapist) so I think everyone around me is on extra high alert. But (remarkably) I feel totally fine. Well, totally fine for ME. I have an innate baseline functioning status of “meh.”

For more context, please know that I did not just wake up this morning and arbitrarily decide to hack off my hair (although if I did, I still don’t think that’d be insane). The decision to donate my hair is one I made over 5 months ago, and I have since been growing it out, itching for the day I could finally make the cut because I was starting to look like a mermaid (the washed-up on shore, tangled in slimy bramble kind, not the Ariel-singing-on-a-rock kind). So while the “do it yourself” aspect was somewhat spontaneous, the intention to lop off almost a foot of hair had been planned for a while now.

Finally, for clarity, I don’t blame Eric for being initially alarmed. (He also wasn’t the only one– I got an immediate text from Zack, and the only reason I didn’t get one from Mom, I’m sure, is because she is golfing/mahjonging/chardonnay-ing and hasn’t seen the post yet). I know Eric’s concern comes from a place of love (and straight up alarm, because he sort of committed to a long life with me– sucka!). But it is a frustrating byproduct of mental illness that if you do something “kinda weird” while feeling good, it’s a sign you’re losing your goddamn mind.

hair1.jpghair2.jpghair3.jpghair4.jpghair5.jpghair6.jpghair7.jpghair8.jpghair9.jpg

 

So in the end, all is fine, espeically beause we got to remininsce about Eric’s mullet.

mullet.jpg

Also, in hidsight and in fairness, I suppose my intial presentation of the situation in that first text was confusing and alarming, but I guess I overestimated how immune Eric is to my eccentricity.

Regardless, in the future, I’d like to spend less time defending my crazy and more time enjoying the fact that what I did was kind of weird, and being weird is awesome. I feel great!

IMG_4305.jpg

#ShorthairNOWdontcare (thanks to Jose at Aveda Salon, who actually said I did a pretty decent* home job so SUCK IT).

*He reined in the word “decent” and replaced it with “not terrible, and next time don’t” after he saw how excited I was by his compliment.

 

 

Here’s How to Take a Great Idea and Ruin It

I thought cutting off all my own hair, alone and by myself, while listening to Kesha’s “Praying” would be super therapeutic (and it was! For exactly 5 seconds), since the only other time I cut my own hair was in the middle of the night when I was 6, after which I promptly blamed my brother, so I never got to really bask in the glory of my work.

Newsflash: There is no glory. I look very very bad.

Turns out there is a reason hair dressers do this for you. One reason is that THEY KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THEY’RE DOING. Another reason is that they have a straight angle, and can therefore cut the hair evenly. As you can see in the haphazard-looking nubs above the hair bands, I did not accomplish this. It looks like someone cut my hair with a samurai sword.

The good news is that some child, through the nonprofit Children With Hair Loss, will receive a lovely 11-inch wig, which is a small price to pay for me looking like a gnome.

Now, Jose at Aveda Salon, you better hold on to your hat. Our appointment today will be more therapy than haircut.

#iwasonlysupposedtocut8inches #oops #shorthairdontcarefreakingthefuckout #shorthairDONTDOTHISATHOME (oh, you would never do this at home, because you’re smart and rational? HOW NICE FOR YOU.)

FullSizeRender

This Isn’t Even Embarrassing It’s Just My Life

As I’m leaving an hour-long tutoring session…

Kid (to her mom): “Mom, you always say I have to take those off (points to nape of my neck) but Miss Emily didn’t!!”

Me (confused): “Wait, what?”

Parent: “Something tells me Miss Emily did not know it was there. And I was going to try to let her leave without embarrassing her, but I guess that’s not happening now.” (opens drawer, grabs scissors, cuts this off my sweater and hands it to me):

IMG_4254.JPG

 

 

Quit While You’re Ahead

Me, to Eric, after a friend commented that my loose “sack” dresses (the only thing I wear in summer) make me look like a grandma: “Does it bother you that I dress comfortably and not sexy?”

Eric: “Babe, are you kidding? Of course not. Wear whatever you want.”

Me: “Awww, that’s sweet. You’re the best.”

Eric: “Yeah. You think I even notice what you wear? I’ve never noticed once.”

Nope stop talking.

img_1179-7