Just call me Farrah

Getting your hair cut at a new salon is a calculated risk.

Getting your hair cut at a new place in your very Polish neighborhood is an even bigger calculated risk.

Getting your hair cut at a new place in your very Polish neighborhood by a woman named Ula (not kidding) whose first language is, naturally, Polish is the grand-daddy of all risks (this is my life we’re talking about, ok?).

Here’s the picture I showed Ula.

Now, in defense of what I’m about to show you, there IS a bit of flip to that hairstyle. But apparently what Ula saw when she looked at this, was the following:

Or, rather, as I imagine Ula imagined I would wear this hair:

Now, I’m not mad. In fact, there is so much kick to my hair that I literally scurried home with joy to take a photo and tell you guys about it. In fact, the only thing that could have made me happier would have been if someone would have actually shouted, “Hey, Farrah!” at me on the way home. I would have been all like, “He-ey!“

Which is a big deal. I don’t respond to cat-callers.

My favorite part? When Ula started explaining to me how versatile this haircut is. That I could flip it out or under. As if I would ever want to do anything other than this!!!!

Now, I know what you’re thinking: Justine, isn’t your hair so sassily styled that you can’t even really tell if you like the cut?

Well, yes. Yes, it is. But I have faith in Ula. I have faith in my neighborhood. I have faith in my calculated risk.

And if I’m wrong? Well, I guess then I can just pursue that dream of being a sexy 70s crime-fighting spy, now can’t I?

Sorries and ‘Staches.

All right, so, confession: I did BAKE a cake for the Super Bowl, but Kelly decorated it while I was at a movie, so yet again I’ve let you down. It turned out cute, but I don’t have a photo.

What I DO have a photo of?

Yep. Happened.

All’s forgiven, right?

Oh heck, here’s one more just in case:

I'm sure you see why I love him.

Aaaaand…CAKE! *huddle clap*

So, it’s the Super Bowl this weekend.

As you can probably imagine, the Super Bowl is not exactly a life-changing event for me.

To be fair, I do enjoy watching. It’s the one sporting event I actually look forward to watching, actually. Of course, that’s mainly for two reasons having nothing to do with athletics: the socialization (I like parties) and the food.

You all know I like food. You do. Admit it. I have a blog tag dedicated to “Kitchen Adventures.” And aside from the chili-cheese dip and assortment of grilled meats, my favorite food associated with the big game is my annual Super Bowl Cake. (Yes, capped.)

I know I have photos of past cakes, but I think they’re on my mom’s camera. (AKA, trapped forever.) So you’ll just have to imagine.

They’re things of beauty. I’ve made two, so this year will be the third. I have big plans, PLUS I’m joining forces with the boyfriend’s sister, so it should be epic.

Just wanted to give you a little something to look forward to. (Because I’m sure the actual game just wasn’t doing it for you.)

A subtle intrigue

Hey guys.

I have an embarrassing post topic today.

So…you know how punctuation is important to me?

Well, yesterday I mentioned to Emma that the one form of punctuation that I always found the most cryptic was the two-period ellipsis. As in:

I don’t know why you’re still mad..

Emma says this is just what happens when people accidentally forget the third period, but I always assumed it was intentional. Like, I’m not going to be so over-dramatic and “dun-dun-DUN!” about it as to require a full ellipsis, but I am sort of trailing off and still confused here.

So what do you think? Do you use the two-period ellipsis intentionally? Or am I just so in love with punctuation I’m subconsciously trying to create a new mark?

Finding the words

This won’t shock anyone, but I’m a words person.

My sister always yells at me for using words she deems fancier than necessary, but I’m not just using them because I feel like I need to impress someone. The simple fact is, the words I use are more accurate. I mean obscure, not weird. I mean antithesis, not opposite.

I guess I’m also a big accuracy person. (I know; your mind is blown.)

Which is also why, in general, I get frustrated by emotions. Not those of others — I can listen and provide fairly objective advice when other people are confused or hurting — but my own. Because sometimes I just feel weird or off or down or confused or I wig out and can’t pin down exactly why. In fact, usually all it really takes for me to feel better is articulating exactly what it is that’s bothering me.

I guess in my case, naming the monster makes it virtually unnecessary to fight. Or at the very least, much, much easier.

So what’s my point. Sometimes I get mad or sad or just plain quiet, and I can’t really explain why. Fortunately, I have a process to get to my answer (which usually involves over-analyzing every detail with my dear friend Susan — also known as my sounding board .)

I think what I’m saying is, be patient with me. I’ll get there. And hopefully I’ll have the words to get you there, too.

Want vs. Need

Just had an overwhelming urge to go shopping. Here are things I want:

1. Flat brown leather boots
2. Dark skinny jeans with enough stretch to fit my legs and waist (never gonna happen)
3. Fitted leather jacket (a lot of leather…weird)
4. Moderately frilly dresses
6. Most things at Banana Republic

Gahhhh…must not spend money. Must. Not. Spend. Money.

Maybe next paycheck.

And again on gchat

“God, why can’t i just date Man-Justine? Everything would be so much easier.”

~S

Hair-Brained Theories

So you know how I have way too manytheories about how hair and attitude are connected? I’m adding another one.

I propose that your entire mood can be lifted by a good hair day. The reverse is also true. Liking your outfit also helps, but hair is the true key. (This is probably mostly true of women.)

The evidence: I usually take showers at night, but I usually don’t dry my hair after, instead letting it air-dry while I sleep. This is fine, but my hair is usually some kind of crazy by the time I wake up. I could probably remedy this by torching it within an inch of its life with a straightener, but I prefer not to do that unless it’s an emergency. (Yeah, go ahead and TRY to think of an emergency that calls for that course of action.)

So anyway. Last night, everything changed.

In a super awesome course of events, our heat is somehow not working. It rules. Really. (Not really.) Naturally, our apartment is freezing. So last night I took a shower for the sole purpose of warming up. For the first time, I didn’t think I could physically go to bed with wet hair. So I dried it. And this morning, it actually looked kind of nice when I woke up. Plus, I’d finally remembered to pack my lunch the night before, so I didn’t have to go through the rigamarole of slapping something together in the morning.

The point is, I’ve had a pretty great day. Which begs the question: Does more put-together hair mean a more put-together life?

Pandering. AND LOVING IT.

Oh. My. GAWD.

Everything these people write is gold.

I want to be their friend. I feel like we could get along.

Weekend Round-Up

So last Friday the fella and I celebrated a time-honored NYC tradition: Restaurant Week.

I love it so. For those of you who do not live in a city that has this (because it is available outside of my current locale), this is when a few higher-end restaurants will host fixed price lunches and dinners at a discounted price so the underlings (read: me) can get a chance to appreciate them. There are typically three courses of goodness — appetizer, entree, and dessert.

I’m not going to lie; I picked where we went based on the dessert. It was pumpkin cheesecake with — get this — cranberry sauce over it. And amazing taste sensation I plan on copying someday. It was also quite nice of Restaurant Week to fall on our anniversary (because you KNOW that went in to the scheduling decision).

Unfortunately, there is zero photo evidence of this fancy meal because both the boyfriend and I forgot our cameras. Memories fail. I swear, I have maybe one photo of us dressed nicely. Oh well.

Aside from that, though, it was a successful outing all around.

Also, it’s doppelgänger week on Facebook, so everyone is suppose to put a photo of a celebrity they resemble for their profile pic (in case you missed the memo and are confused why everyone is doing this…Dad. You should put that guy from Robin Hood.)

I picked Anne Hathaway, as this is the most consistent “you know who you look like!?” that I get. So…who’s yours?