We always want what we don’t have. I’ve found that this is especially true when it comes to hair. Those of us with curly hair want straight hair, those with straight hair want more body and curl. Yada, yada, yada. It’s like some weird universal law that all women must want whatever it is that they don’t already have. I’ve been to approximately 50+ salons in my lifetime and the conversations had with each hairdresser always start out the same: I’m always there to have my hair straightened – they always say “your curls are beautiful” – then I follow it up with “we always want what we don’t have” – they nod in agreement. Every. Flippin’. Time. Personally, I’ve always felt that I look better with straightened hair. I feel more sophisticated. It thins out my face and complements my features. The extra time and money have always been worth it to me. Everyone else in my life, however, has preferred my hair big, wild and curly…so when I do wear it like it appears in the photo above it gives me a sense of pride. Not because it’s how I feel most comfortable or attractive, but because I recognize how much others view it as such. A weird thing, for sure. Is there anybody out there who loves/has always loved the hair that they were born with?
I learned a new word today: ASSUAGE. Pronounced ‘ass-wage.’ It means to soothe; relieve. I found this word when I searched my thesaurus for synonyms to these words – placate, pacify, appease, mitigate. I’ve been in situations recently and in the past where the focus quickly turns to pacifying the victim/innocent party instead of turning our eyes to the crime itself and those who have committed it. Has this ever happened to you? Come sit next to me. *pats chair* Mama needs to get deep for a moment.
Allow me to give you two examples:
I was at a gathering once where those in the group were close-knit co-workers and friends. It was a somber occasion that brought us together but I was there to support and hang out. There was a point in the evening when the host answered the door to greet the pizza delivery guy. I’m not sure what the exchange was but when he came back into the kitchen he unabashedly exclaimed something about blah-blah-blah dumb n_ _ _ _er blah-blah-blah. This was in Chicago, IL. There was a collective breath in and I could feel the heat rising from my neck up to my ears. I blurted out “don’t mind me, I’m just the one with the black mother in the room” or something along those lines. Although everyone else was equally appalled something had to come out of my mouth. After I made my statement I remember everyone immediately turning their attention on me to forgive, dismiss, “oh he didn’t mean it”, etc. Not one person turned to him and said “WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM YOU RACIST PRICK?” It seemed as if the goal there was to make me utter the words “it’s okay” which I absolutely did not. Would not. Never will. It was uncomf to the 3000th degree.
The second example is more recent. With all of this hubbub surrounding our apt. being burglarized I’ve found myself in quite a few conversations where my anger is seen as something that I need to keep in control. I shouldn’t let it ruin my day. What’s done is done. Unfortunately these things happen. There’s nothing that we can do. etc,etc,etc Well you know what? I already know all of that…but I’m completely within bounds to feel irate as fuck. There are people out there that steal and lie and cheat their way through life. Taking what they didn’t earn. And so often our response is to tamp down our own anger even when it’s completely justified and serves a purpose. The message I’m receiving is: something was done to you + those people are bad + it doesn’t matter though because they’ll get away with it + accept that + don’t waste your anger = don’t be angry. It doesn’t compute. I’m furious. I feel helpless. Helplessness is further compounded by receiving the same message from everyone – NOTHING WILL BE DONE ABOUT THIS.
So yes, I’m angry. I’m bitter. But yes, I accept that this is so. When the feeling strikes I won’t ignore myself. I won’t talk myself down. Blogging helps and sometimes it takes an aggressive vent-sesh with a good friend to help you see clearly again. (Thank you, Urs <3) Okay, I’m done. I feel better already. Thank you for permitting this literary explosion.
These photos speak for themselves. We’re over-the-moon thrilled with them! A thousand THANK YOU’s to Amanda from Blueberry Photography. We’ll cherish these for the rest of our days. xo
Well, folks. As the title says…a few bad news, bummer, bullshit things have occurred in the last two weeks. Not to be too much of a Debbie Downer but I keep asking myself what I’ve done for the universe to punish me. Completely irrational and overly dramatic, I know. My ever-positive wifey says that our lives are so great that we were probably due for some bad. She may be right on this one. So what happened you ask? For starters our apartment got broken into. Still not sure how or why but the thief got away with our Macbook, my brand new GoPro Hero4 and worst of all my Nikon DSLR. What’s that sound? Anguish and heartbreak. Not only did they take our valuables but they’ve taken our peace of mind. It’s sad to say that it’s somewhat “normal” for this to happen where we live but that doesn’t make it any easier to digest. On top of it all, I realize now how naive I was to assume that anybody else would care or act. By anybody else I mean our property management and the Oakland PD. I was expecting them to bust in and start fingerprinting! But no. They’ve yet to even acknowledge that this has happened. Our locks have been changed but it doesn’t give us much relief. The second thing that happened was kind of silly and a complete fuck up on my part. I got soap in my eye. Sounds so incredible uneventful but it had me down for a good 24 hours – a full 48 to heal. Not just any soap though, Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint Castile soap. If you’ve ever used the stuff you should be cringing right about now. On other parts of the body it gives an invigorating, fresh feeling. In the eyeball it feels like blue-flamed fire. The sensation literally took my breath away. I’m laughing as I type this because it really sounds like some Three Stooges shit but it only compounded the already crappy week I was having. Not having a camera or a laptop has put a major crick in my blog game. I hope to get some newer, fresher gear in the next month. Until then, I have some wedding photos to post (yay!) and a few other things I’ve been meaning to throw up on this here blog. Send us your $$ and some good vibes. I’m kidding! We’re all stocked up on good vibes.
I call these my “weekend pants” because they’re the comfiest, easiest choice for a lazy day. Stylish but non-restrictive. I wore them yesterday when we walked over to Stag’s Lunchette for some lunch and coffee. There’s something about this style of pant, though. I bought ‘em for $10 at Forever 21 but they flatter my curves perfectly. Holly loves it when I wear them because they show off my feminine sway (to put it mildly). It’s a win-win!
Currently listening to: All About That Bass by Meghan Trainor
It’s summer here in the Bay Area. High 80’s and 90’s for the past couple of weeks. If you travel inland it gets into the 100’s! Since public nudity is frowned upon, I put together this simple getup before running errands in Walnut Creek, where it was hotter than hell itself. Nothing fancy – a breezy blue maxi accented by a cute necklace and some chic eyewear. To the rest of the country with cooler temps: we’ll be with ya before you know it. Stay cool, CA folks.
Now that it’s all said and done I’ve been reflecting a lot lately about being a “bride.” And that’s exactly how I thought of myself – a “bride” punctuated by air quotes. To me, the word “bride” has a lot of strong connotations, some good but a lot bad. It conjures thoughts of self-centeredness, greed and most of all a narrow focus on the wedding day itself rather than the marriage. My mind rejected it immediately and I found myself trying to go about planning our ceremony as a devout anti-bride. We had already decided to go the courthouse route; no family or friends. Short, simple ceremony. No engagement party or photo shoot. I did have an un-official bachelorette dinner with a friend that was lovely. (Shout out to Rachel <3) I tried to avoid the attention that comes with discussing something that Holly and I find so intimate. In the name of simplicity and a bit of superstition, we abstained from the hoopla. Putting too much pressure on a thing is sure to make it fail, isn’t that so? Right or wrong, that’s what I felt. It was sorta my way of protecting it I guess you could say. On the days when my heart won my brain over I would have little breakthroughs and remind myself not to cheapen our day. Take it in. Accept the warm wishes and excited hugs. Don’t skip the details. Enjoy it. And I’m glad that I did. Marrying Holly is the best decision that I’ve ever made and everyone else just wanted to acknowledge/celebrate that. I understood it. I accepted it. I did it. But, I’m here to say that being a “bride” is just not my thing. Being married to Holly, however, IS. Be warned though – when our baby shower comes along ALL EYES ON US. It’s party time!
Above: A snap of Holly’s rose gold band on the day we bought it.
Directly after our ceremony at City Hall we rushed back to the hotel, grabbed our things and hopped the train to the airport. It was all very rushed and stressful since we were running late. We didn’t really have a chance to process how we were feeling until we were sitting safely in our seats on the plane. The hour and a half flight gave us time to reflect and finally start to relax. We decided on an abbreviated honeymoon to buy us more time. More time to plan and save for the extravagant, ultra-honeymoon that I’ve always dreamed of: an African safari! Palm Springs was the perfect little getaway, though. The slower pace hits immediately once you feel the dry desert heat. Our stay at the Viceroy was tranquil. We were encouraged and allowed to unwind and just be. Just thinking about it makes me involuntarily tilt my head back, close my eyes and take a deep breath. Aaaahhhhhhhhh, yes. A soothing memory not soon to be forgotten.
The last surprise that I’d arranged for Holly on our wedding night was a little wedding cake. She dislikes cake. I love cake. I hold the belief that all weddings must have a cake! So while we were having our late night dinner, the lovely staff at the Viceroy snuck into our room and set it up. Since the cake needed to be small enough for the two of us, the baker (Roman @ Over The Rainbow bakery in Palm Springs) added a dummy layer on the bottom to make it appear more full and beautiful. I wanted to keep it simple with a bit of desert-chic thrown into the mix. I chose a lemon-raspberry-champagne cake with buttercream frosting. We were so beat from the ceremony and traveling that we decided to enjoy our wedding cake with our coffee the next morning. We popped the top layer into the freezer overnight then sliced it up with our french-press the next day. The flavor was incredible!! There is no better way to enjoy cake than eating it for breakfast, I’m telling you. This may have to be a new tradition…
Well, guys. WE FINALLY DID IT! On Tuesday, September 23rd Holly and I got hitched. Yaaahhooooooo! We had a very private ceremony; just the two of us, a photographer and a judge. Being married feels how I’d always hoped it would: DAMN GOOD. More photos from the ceremony and mini-moon to come! Stay tuned. Thanks to our family and friends for the support. Love levels are at an all-time high around here.