What’s that extraordinarily grainy photo of, besides overwhelming evidence that I don’t know how to wash a mirror to save my life?
My new coat and newish scarf and still kind of new-like hair colour (which is old enough now, that I’m already getting roots, and WTF is up with that?). And the always raised eyebrow. Why can’t I stop doing that? Seems like one day, it will just get frozen like that, and I will forever look like I’m imitating either the Joker or Angelina Jolie (winning the first and failing the last).
Anyway. I got a new winter coat last week. But let’s just start from the top down, shall we?
The hair: I went from verging-on-flaming-does-the-carpet-match-the-drapes-really? hair (there’s no carpet here, people, we installed laminate a loooong time ago) to kinda sorta but not really gothy. When you consider that my skin is so white it’s clear – no seriously, you can see blood vessels and stuff – an inky brown is not a natural looking choice. But because of the fact that I really suck at colouring my own hair, and other various factors, it’s got some of that red showing though, and now my eyebrows have finally faded (yes, I dyed them too, with the colour from the box. Against the instructions. I am a badass with an authority complex.) so that I no longer look like what an extra in an orgy scene would look like, should Twilight had been done right.
Ahem. So, I like it. And I did it cuz one of my BestFriends (BF #1) said she wanted to see me go blonde and I went, “NFW! Hey, let’s do the opposite, cuz I’m all about being contrary (which Isobel does not get from me. At all.).” And then long story short, I had the itch and I scratched it. Thank you, BF #1, right?
The scarf: One day, a little while ago, I got a box delivered to me by a ceeeyute post man, which totally nullified the annoyance of said ceeeyute post man ringing my buzzer and therefore making noise during ‘quiet time.’ Because he had a package for me. *snort* And in said package was somethings Isobel loves and something that I love – a scarf that people keep asking me about, using words like Burberry. And said package came from someone who had some stuff and thought of us. What a sweet BlogFriend (BloF #1), right?
The coat: In light of what the day was, and that I am currently 27 years and 51 weeks old, BF #1 and the not yet mentioned BF #2 dragged their combined three children, two strollers and cold-infected selves downtown and they bought me a present. A surprise present – a long, black, sleek Tommy Hilfiger down coat. I didn’t need a new coat – I had just been handed down one last winter from a FormerFriend (FF #1), but because of who and what FF #1 is, BF #1 and #2 decided that my current coat had bad karma and I needed a new one. I have BFs watching my karmatic ass, people.
Unforch, they wouldn’t have known that my karmatic ass doesn’t wear Tommy, so they offered up the ‘return it for something that you really like, but it has to be all for you‘ clause. And I got the coat above and change, which bought me some underwears and new socks (no, I really like new socks. Like more than some women like their vibrators) and tomorrow, a brand-new yoga mat. So, score like, a million, BF #1 and #2.
I’m really lucky. You see, I’m naive enough to trust people, knowing and having been burned several times over and over again. I fall in love with someone, with everything they present to me and what I read between the lines on their face. I don’t see a difference between BF #1 and #2, and the people I talk to every single day, (BloF #2, 3 and 4, in no specific order or anything, so no one go all ‘oh, so and so outranks so and so,’ since there’s no. damn. thing.) except that there’s proximity and proximity allows for real hugs and real coffee dates and tears shared in person. I can do those things online, too, I have done, but its a tad less there when you’re not there, you know?
So, even though I may get slapped in the face occasionally, I’m still going to take the chance and keep falling in love with all of these good characters in my tales, because I think, really know, that everyone has some goodness and is meant to teach me something – even if the lesson is taught via a google chat popping up, wondering where I’ve been all day. I love loving people and because of this dharma, I have my own version of nirvana. And that’s all there is to it.
Namaste, to all of you.
