Nostalgia

I remember sleeping over at your house once. You were five and I was seven. I was wide awake and there you were next to me, peacefully sleeping with your thumb in your mouth. I remember sticking my thumb into my mouth, hoping it would help me fall asleep. It didn't, but it was salty and I guess that was nice.

It cracks me up when I think about the fact that you only stopped sucking your thumb a few years ago, and even more when I think about the fact that it was only a little before that that your mom threw your pacifier away.

I'll miss you, and I wish we were still friends like we used to be. I love you, and inspite of everything that's happened over the years, you were still my favorite person.

The Boy Who Cried Wolf...And Other Lies People Tell Themselves

Sometimes I think girls are like little lost puppies, wandering around, lonely and aimless, until some guy comes along, scoops us up and takes us home.

How depressing (and accurate) a thought is that?

Today's Lesson: Girls Suck, guys suck, life sucks.

Katharine Parr, The Smart One.

I love Katharine Parr, the sixth of Henry the VIII's wives. I consider her the most intelligent, logical and independent of the six. However, she could also be considered a prime example of how love turns people into idiots.

Enter Thomas Seymour. He was Jane Seymour (Henry's third wife)'s brother and after her death he stuck around and became one of the king's advisors.

Stupid thing One:
An inappropriate amount of time after Henry's death, Katharine married Thomas, and consequently lost her title as queen, which was (most likely) the foundation of his attraction to her.

Stupid Thing Two:
Almost immediately after their marriage, for the first time in her life, (rather astonishing if you think about the fact that she'd been married four times) she got pregnant. Around the same time she was carrying her daughter (future Mary Seymour), Thomas being the AMBITIOUS man that he was started making advances towards a fourteen year old Elizabeth (future Queen Elizabeth I), who'd been living with Katharine since after her father's death. To make a long story short, she eventually sent Elizabeth away, I suppose, not knowing what else to do.

Anyway, the point that I'm trying to make here is that number one, love turns people stark raving mad (which is why I'm not sure I want any part of it), and two, there are two types of women in the world: The Katharine Parrs and the Anne Boleyns. Logical and pragmatic, or impulsive and entirely controlled by their emotions (not that Anne wasn't intelligent) These tendencies will determine whether or not come you come out of life on your own terms (whatever those are), or you come out of life wherever your wayward emotions dumped you. Which would be, in Anne's case, in a hole with your head under your arm.

Since Masturbating All Day Is Not a Legitimate Form of Employment...

I got a job. I still have no idea how, since my resume sucks and all I remember of my interview is a rapid traumatic blur (in which I fidgeted and sweated profusely). So far, I love it!

I get along well with most of the girls... Well, all of them, but one in particular can be a mite moody, and must (like a volcano, or a cliff after a hurricane) be tiptoed around at all times. I love my customers, very cool for the most part, at worst some of them can be a little stand-offish. But it strikes me again and again how amazing most people are, and they don't even realize it.

On another note, I've suddenly noticed how vulnerable I am to subliminal peer pressure. For the past ten months my mother has been nagging me to get a job, and I have (albeit somewhat lazily) been searching for one. Then, fast forward to last month, my friends all have jobs, I feel left out, and BOOM, I've got one.

Example 2: A bunch of the girls at my work are going back to University soon, and I suddenly feel like a loser for not being in University. And now I want to be back in school, for something, for anything! Because working has plagued me with the sudden feeling that my life is going nowhere, and that needs to be remedied AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. 

I am WAAYY too smart and beautiful to end up a 30-year-old virgin, living with her mother. 

Current Music: Scenery by Blondie

Hair Envy v.2

I recently decided to stop bouncing around and take the Henna Plunge. For those of you that don't know, Henna is pretty much the equivalent of the Holy Grail of hair care for a black person. If you REALLY need more info, here's a link to CurlyNikki's website. She's pretty much the queen when it comes to natural hair, and I spend more time reading her blog than I do doing ANYTHING else (except maybe watching porn, but that's another issue for another day).

 

So here I am, on one of the hottest days recorded in Canadian history with (basically) hot, squishy, conditioning mud in my hair. Lovely. I've also been baby-ing my hair recently, because I've been noticing a lot more breakage than I usually get.

 

In other news, I'm tossing out the comb. My hair may be to delicate to handle it. I've been trolling MopTopMaven's blog for the longest time, and prior to washing her hair, she sprays a mix of conditioner and water on it, and starts combing it. I decided to try that. After seeing about two broken pieces of hair around the sink (for about half of my head, but whatevs, breakage is breakage) I panicked and decided to finger detangle. Can you say DREAM??

 

In the interest of baby-ing, I've worn my hair in twists all week (which I'm planning to do for awhile) only touching it to moisturize and seal. My hair despises twists! The ends tangle like crazy and the roots dread up(that's right people! DREADLOCKS) if I leave them alone for too long. But this time with just a little conditioner and my FINGERS my hair came apart like, like, like... I HAVE NO IDEA, BUT IT WAS BEAUTIFUL!

 

And to my wide-tooth comb (or all seven of them): Screw you, dude! I'm free! HA! FREE, I TELL YOU!

 

SEE YOUR ASS THE NEXT TIME I DECIDE TO ROLLER SET!!! WOOHOO!

 

Now. Me and my mud-packed hair are off to watch...tv.

 

*coughcoughporncoughcough* 

 

And a little Hair Porn for the masses:

 

 

Mass Romantic Fools

Currently despising myself and my sexuality. Is it some phase that girls go through where they need to make a guy the center of their universe? Or are we stuck like this forever? Seriously.

I could sit here and bemoan the fact that I'm not a lesbian, but honestly it probably wouldn't make a difference.

A recurring theme that I'm seeing lately is girls randomly sleeping with guys. I don't understand why I have this need to tear apart people's actions analyzing them, but I guess my mind cannot comprehend doing something without a logical reason. Is there a simple biological need driving this? Or is it the dreaded "L- word Factor"?  Is every single girl I know sleeping with a guy who hasn't exhibited even the slightest hint of affection for her, doing it because she expects sex to make him love her? And if they are, why does that thought disgust me so much?

I know it doesn't work like that. And I thought that was common knowledge. I suspect the idea may be disturbing to me because, inspite of everything, I still believe that the actions of others dictate my actions.

Or maybe I've just been listening to too much Bikini Kill lately.

Today's Lesson: I am not smart enough or mature enough to be giving anyone advice.

All This and Nothing

Today's Lesson: Learning to let things go.

When I say "learning to let things go" I don't really mean things, I mean people. Learn to let people go. No matter how much you want someone to mean something for you, you have to remember that THEY control their actions not you. So when someone shows you that they don't care about you, whether they be boyfriend, friend or family member, let them go. Because somebody will.