So, after reading “The Complete Guide to Not giving a fuck” two weeks ago, I decided to step out of my shell a little ( I posted it for everyone to read).
I showed up to auditions for my University’s fashion show, but honestly, I only had intentions to work backstage. The head of Student activities (and my past boss) suggested that I put my height (5’10 – 5’11) to use and take part in the show….and she also said only losers worked backstage. How rude. But regardless, under normal circumstances I would have ignored her completely, huffed at the statement, and not try out at all. However, I decided to give it a go.
I can’t walk in heels.
Or rather, I never owned heels and never had a reason to walk in them.
But…Oh well. Who cares. I’ve seen people look like an utter mess in heels and they still give it a go so why shouldn’t I? I threw all fucks to the side and did it.
I’m coming out! I want the world to know, gonna let it show! *strut, strut*
I bought a new pair of heels and I’m gonna practice the hell out them. It’s not about the walk. It’s the confidence. I think
that’s my largest flaw. But, I’ve grown so tired of feeling like I’m under the bridge compared to others. Worst of all, I’m almost 6’3 in these shoes. It’s a long way down if I happen to trip and fall and may the lord have mercy on my ankles. Still, I made a commitment and I am going to see it through until I either break a leg or get the boot.
Until then, I’ll be strutting these long legs around for the world to see.
I did my hair again today although I was tempted to leave it in a ponytail because today is Friday and I was feel way too lazy to actually do anything, especially after having to wake up at 7am to run some errands. Anyways, this is was yesterday’s progress (the picture to your left) I think I did a pretty decent job even though you can’t really see much. Still, some progress is better than no progress. Imagine something as simple as this resulted in so much rage and frustration. Sometimes I feel like just cutting off all my hair and pulling an Amber Rose, but the fear of my hair never growing back keeps me from doing so. If the picture looks familiar, it’s because I liked it so much I made it the picture for my Biography.
Now about today’s progress. (Picture on right) Still simple (Like I have a choice. I need a curling for dummies book). I think it’s kind of cute. I purposely butchered a Hibiscus bush just to get that flower. I thought it was fitting. I’m an island girl after all, so I should look floral right? No? Not the right Moment? Gotcha, another time then. Maybe when I’m waltzing around in a dress I’ll try the flower this again. Oh look, there’s a headband! Nice touch wouldn’t you agree? If you must know the shirt says “Warning. I have an attitude and I know how to use it!” I look friendly though don’t I? I hope so. The last thing I need is some poor unsuspecting freshman to think I’m a Itch with A B, and avoid me, but at the same time at least this gives them some reason to be cautious.
Now about this hair. I only curled the front at first because I can never get the back of my hair correct. That right there is my weakness. So I had to stay there for about 15 minutes (I lie, it was more like 30) Curling the back over and over again until I was absolutely positive there were no flat ends. I think I still missed some, but hey, I think I accomplished my goal. The worst thing about this is when the curls keep coming undone. But there’s a simple solution to that. I just spritz the hell out of ends to make sure those unruly strands keep themselves in place. Ha! Take that Hair! I win! Kida 1. Hair 15 …not that I’m keeping score or anything.
Till Another time! tata!
The Curling iron, one of the many tools females use to bedazzle their hair (real or fake) to desired styles. But what really is a curling iron? Where did it come from? Clearly the tool is a weapon from hell used to scorch the scalp or any other body parts you may have mistakenly touched by accident. Ie. My forehead and fingers this morning.
I’ve been on this “Keep Self Kept” program that I made for myself. I started on Monday and the idea is to keep myself looking decent for the year. Meaning, I would be putting effort into getting dressed even if it’s just casual and breaking up with my long time lover “The dry pony tail.” And by dry, I mean I use to just put my hair in an elastic band and go out the door. No combing, nothing, just like that.
So I’ve been playing with the curling iron lately and let me tell you, it looks so simple but what a deceitful little instrument it is. It’s much more difficult than I thought it would be. I cannot count the amount of times I had to redo what I was doing because it simply did not curl the way I wanted it. Oh! And let’s not forget that I burned my scalp several times and my poor fingers had the unfortunate pleasure of touching the iron while in the midst of curling. I had to walk out of the room and take a breath and remind myself that A) Cursing the thing would be pointless because it couldn’t understand me, although I swore I saw it smile whenever it burned me and B)If I broke it, I’d be both ruining my goal and then I’d have to replace it and I would like to avoid frivolously spending money (that I don’t have).
So I managed the basics. Curl my bang and my hair even though it looks so flat and boring, but it’s not so bad. With some more practice I should get it down.
I’ll upload a picture later of the final look later, but that’s it today for my Curling Iron Chronicles.
So I have been called Ugly on many occasions.
What a way to lead a post huh? But it’s true. Many a time I have been called Ugly or it was implied that I was. Now, the opinion of others truly do not matter to me (sometimes), but it was something I felt I should write about.
Who or what truly defines beauty?
I often wonder if popularity determines beauty.
Perhaps the amount of times you’ve carelessly thrown your Cooch Or Penis around determines this.
Have you ever noticed how the most whorish of people are called beautiful? And they seem to let that go to their head and try to put down others?
Initially, that last part is what I really wanted to talk about.
I understand you know that you are good looking, but why must you try to bring down others you FEEL are less desirable looking to you? Does it make you feel better about yourself? What is it that you get from trying to make others feel terrible about themselves? Where you bullied as a child? Is there a hole somewhere inside of you that needs to be filled? Perhaps you need a hug. Maybe you weren’t loved properly as a child. Or maybe you realize that you are nothing more than a sex symbol and seeing someone that doesn’t need to partake in sexual activities to look good makes you feel like utter crap and you take out your frustrations on them to uplift yourself. Is that it?
Whatever the reason, I hope you realize how detestable that makes you look on the inside. And no amount of makeup can ever clean up the Tar that you have built up around your personality and you are by far uglier than anyone else will ever be. And when you look in the mirror, I hope it shatters and you realize just how horrible of a person you truly are.