7 July 2011

Two Thoughts Tuesday: What's Really Important

1) Friends. Friends are important. Not only for the human members of the family:

but for the canine ones as well:

And bonus--the harder they play with their friends, the longer they will sleep in the following morning. Everyone wins you see.

2. People who have looked at my photos from the lake comment on how happy I seem there. Not that I'm not happy here, but it's a different kind of happy I guess. A peaceful one. A comfortable one. It feels like home. And I think one thing that brings out that Laura is that I don't feel the need to impress anyone at the lake. I just put on some clothes, pull my hair back and go.

I am thinking that I'd like to bring some of that carefree attitude back to NoVa. Since I can't run around barefoot in my bikini here, the other option is to stick with the natural hair look instead of spending 30+ minutes drying and straightening everyday. But, since I am home in the land of real housewifesque women, and I'll have to go to work, I need it to look a little more 'styled' than it does at the lake. But I need your help as I have never tried to embrace the curly before, so I am not sure the best way to go about it. I do plan to ask Akram when I see him later this week, but I imagine he's going to grump at me a bit because he likes to make my hair paper thin, straight and glossy. Anyway this is what my hair looks like when I just add conditioning lotion, a little mousse and then let it air dry:

Which is ok I guess, but I want it to look a little softer--I don't like the crunchiness that comes from too much mousse. Nor do I like the wet look of gels.  And I don't want to spend oodles of time with a curling iron as that kind of defeats the purpose of embracing the curly. But, I don't want the frizzies to take over either. So--what would y'all suggest? Am I asking for the moon? Maybe I should get a perm? Or should I just be happy with ok?

There's a bigger lesson here, I just know it

As some of you may have gathered, I am having myself a relaxing vacation at the lake. Well, as relaxing as having the sole responsibility for the livelihood of two hyperactive tots around a large body of water and freely roaming bears can be. The point here is that I haven't felt inclined to do a whole lot in the realm of hair styling--and by a whole lot, I mean anything at all really.  I wash and go. No hair dryers. No flat irons. No counter full of styling products I don't really know how to use. Basically, I throw it up into a bun with my spin pins until they start giving me a headache, and then I take it down and just let it go where it wants. Which looks like this:

Wavy, slightly frizzy, boingy hair. Quite a departure from the look I usually strive for:

Sleek, shiny, flat. Of course it only looks that good when Akram does it for me, but that doesn't stop me from twisting, burning and tugging at it in an attempt to make my abused tresses at least somewhat resemble the above picture in a less attractive, distant relative kind of way.  And I am beginning to wonder why I go to so much trouble. Sure it looks pretty, but I'm still me with or without perfect hair. And honestly, I feel freer with my crazy, out of control hair. More natural. More real. Not just a poor imitation--more me.  

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

My daughter does not have my hair. And that's a shame really because if ever I possessed a good genetic quality to pass along it would be my thick hair that grows at a rate that makes keeping the grey roots under control a daunting task. Maybe it's not such a great trait after all. Anyway, I don't know where child's hair came from, but it's thin and unruly at best. Observe:

I don't know how to work with it, but even if I did it's not like she'd let me. She seems to prefer it all a mess like that, and honestly I'm perfectly fine with it too. I'll never be one of those moms whose daughter has a perfectly partitioned french braid with expertly arranged ribbons and bows. Just isn't going to happen.

It took her so long to even grow hair that I've been quite reluctant to take her for her first haircut. It seemed almost like spitting in the face of the tress goddess or something. All my Mommy friends have been applying Give the Poor Kid a Trim pressure assuring me that her hair will grow back--probably even thicker and fuller than before. Still not sure I believe them. But when you add in the fact that little miss has been begging for a hair cut for about 3 months now, you knew I was going to cave. Eventually. 

I held out as long as I possibly could, but finally the day came. Yesterday. Seemed like the perfect way to pass the time between dinner and bath to me.

Here she is checking to make sure Chase is watching--which he wasn't as he was too busy getting his own hair buzzed.

She sat completely motionless the entire time staring into the mirror. I swear she looked like she was stoned. Maybe she was in shock or something? I don't know, I was just grateful that she wasn't screaming and thrashing around like a wounded bearcat.

My hair, oh my lovely hair!

But when the deed was done, she recovered her senses. And the little sprite seemed pleased with the reflection of herself.  I think the yellow lollipop helped.

Speaking of lollipops--Amaya calls them Ladypops and thought the hairdryers were giant ones.

Look Mama, big Ladypops!

 Pretty adorable actually her excitement over this giant Candyland discovery. Except all Mama can focus on is how long those legs are. Goodness, where ever did this girl come from?

Here a Foo, There a Foo, Everywhere a Foo Foo

Hi. Remember me? The Mellon? I haven't been hanging around here much lately. Have you been wondering just what it is that could be keeping me from clogging up the interwebs with my stream of consciousness rambling?

No?! You hadn't even noticed my absence? Oh. Well, that's a blow to the ole ego, isn't it? And here I'd put together this lovely photograph-enhanced list itemizing a few of the things that have been occupying space in my brain lately. You know what. I'm going to go ahead and share it anyway, if that's ok with you. What? I can't hear you. Lalalalalalalalala....

So here we go, in some order of importance:

1) I'm a Foo for you Dave Grohl.

Did you know that Foo Fighters released a new CD Tuesday? (They're a band Mom) And they had a documentary out, too? And Dave was on the cover of Sunday Style? It's been a veritable FooSmorgasboard. I think I've listened to Wasting Light about 30 times already. Seriously. My favorite song is Arlandria. Or Bridge Burning. Or I Should Have Known. Or maybe Dear Rosemary. No, These Days. Back & Forth? Oh they're all good--well except White Limo--which I do like right up until the screaming starts. The screeching gives me flashbacks to the latest battle waged in the Amaya/Chase wars, so I can't stand to listen to it for long. Maybe when more time has passed and the wounds aren't as fresh...


2) Reading. I love going to the bookstore--it's like Disneyland to me. Only better because you don't have to wait in line for 20 minutes to get to the good stuff.

Yes, I have a Kindle and an iPad. And sure, nothing beats the convenience of clicking a few buttons and finding the book you want to read on the screen in front of you a minute later. But, I'd never give up my trips to the bookstore. I love to wander the aisles picking up anything that strikes my fancy. And, there's just something about holding an actual book-the feel of the pages in your hand, the smell of the ink. Love.

Right now, I am reading This Is Not The Story You Think It Is: A Season of Unlikely Happiness by Laura Munson

which caught my eye both because the author's name is Laura and I have a thing for Lauras and because I liked the giant horseshoe on the cover.  So far, I've laughed, cried, nodded and had several ah-ha moments. Which is the very definition of a good book in my opinion.

3) Cooking--AKA You Win Some...

Buffalo Chicken Pizza

You Lose Some.

Broiled Salmon or as I like to call it: My broiler hates me and there is nothing more disgusting than the smell of burning fish skin. I mean fish in general is nasty, nasty stuff. Burnt fish? Barf Barf Barf.

4) Heaven. Or the writing utensils I'd imagine they have there anyway. 

5) Spring! And pretty spring skirts. 

6) Spring cleaning my closet to make room for all of those pretty new spring clothes. 

 7 Bags to Purple Heart. How on earth did I ever accumulate enough articles of clothing that I can fill 7 bags and still have a closet jam packed? I think I should probably go try to fill 7 more before PH comes tomorrow. But I get so attached to my clothes. Like they're my babies. I just can't send my babies off to some strange home. No, instead they must stay buried in my closet where most of them will never see the light of day. I have issues. I know.

7) Return of my Cherry Cola Highlights. I just adore that the dye color name is Cherry Cola. Makes me smile because it reminds me of one of my favorite song lyrics: Seeking cherry cola as the bridging wine from Melissa Auf der Mar's Lightning is my Girl.

 

Totally worth those 3.5 hours lost to the Time Sucking Vortex, yes?

Disclaimer: I have no connection to any of the products featured in today's post. No one cares enough what I think to approach me about writing a review. Everything mentioned here was purchased by my own personal volition with my own AmEx. I will in no way benefit from anyone going out and also purchasing said items other than earning the right to say "I told you so."

Here's the Thing

This December Daily thing? It kind of assumes that I lead an interesting enough life to have something document-worthy to share everyday. And well folks, that just ain't the case. But I'll do my very best with what I've got--and you can read along or hold out for a more interesting tale. Your choice.

Today started just as every other--with an elf hunt. 

 

Once that little sprite was found though, the fit throwing, leg kicking, whine-a-thon began in earnest. I sat at one end of the table eating my Wheaties while the kids nit picked at each other in volumes inappropriate for indoor use. Luckily for me, I have a very neat skill of being able to just tune it all out and stare off into space pretending that I'm actually lying on a beach in Waikiki. Well, until one of the little urchins comes and screams right in my face that is...but that's motherhood for you I guess.

Speaking of motherhood, I had the pleasure of performing abdominal exercises today that made me feel like I was going to give birth right there on the gym floor. I cried. No really I did. Tears mixed with the sweat for a delightful "Just got my rear end handed to me" glow.

After that, I got to go to the time sucking vortex known as the hair salon. 3 long hours I spent there. Enough time for 4 different people to tell me "Nice boots" which I have decided is the new modern day small talk initiating phrase that has replaced the "How about that weather" of yesteryear. Or maybe not. I mean they are really cute boots.

In that 3 hours, I had enough time where someone wasn't fussing with my tresses to get this far in my book--

which I highly recommend if you like quirky, satirical, thought provoking essays on our culture. For my patience and general all around awesomeness, my stylist gave me a holiday present. 

I love presents! Especially surprise presents. So, I left the salon a happy girl indeed. I would have been anyway though--I mean just check out how sleek & shiny my hair is when I leave:

I don't think it's ever been that straight before. I know for a fact that I'll never get it to look that good again. I have not the patience to flat iron 1" sections of hair. Or blow dry it half the time. 

So that was pretty much my day right there. The only other even remotely notable thing is that I found my plates in this state when unloading the dishwasher. 

 

So tonight I will be editing my letter to Santa to include new everyday dishes. It's a good thing that I've been extra nice this year, isn't it?

Breaking News

I have bangs ya'll!

And once I get used to the feeling of having hair hanging in my field of vision, I think I'll love them. Until then, don't be surprised if you see me walking around with my head perpetually tilted to the right. 

 That's not at all uncomfortable or odd looking.

A Lesson in Time Travel--Mellon Style

I am a creature of habit. Well that is until the habit starts to bore me to tears. Then I find a new habit to partake in until the cycle repeats itself. Take lip balm for instance. For the past year or so, my habit has been to use the tubular chapstick kind as pictured below.

 

Birds? What birds? Ohhh those birds. Yes, well I thought I'd kill two--um birds--with one stone and show you a piece of my Halloween decor, too. What? You want to see the whole mantle? Sure. 

As Chase & Amaya would say: SPOOOOKY. 

Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes, chapstick. Right. Well, I've been using those tubes religiously, but now I'm bored. My lips are bored. It is time for a change. So now, I'm going to be using the pots. Ya know, the pots? 

I've been down this road before. In fact, when I applied my first coat this morning, the smell of the goop instantly transported me back to my Freshman year at WVU.  I could almost feel myself falling asleep in Chem 15 or filing cart after cart of microfilm at Wise Library.  For those few moments before my nose grew accustomed to the scent, I was 18 again. Isn't it cool how a smell can do that?

Which leads me to the real point of my post. I'm going to teach you how you too can travel back in time. It's simple really.  Whenever you're about to embark on a vacation that you would like to have the opportunity to vividly revisit in the future, buy yourself a new body wash, perfume, or shampoo. It needs to be brand new to you and have a very distinct aroma preferably one you actually like. Buy a big bottle--maybe even multiple bottles. Then while you're on your trip, use it everyday. Even multiple times a day. Inhale the fragrance as you think about all of the magical moments you've had that you never want to forget. When you get home, put the remaining product away for awhile--the more time the better I believe. Then when you feel the desire to recapture that blissful feeling, pull it out and let the memories waft over you as you breathe in the aroma. You'll feel for a moment like you're back on that beautiful beach gazing out onto the turquoise water. But use this magic potion sparingly, so as not to desensitize your nose to the smell. You don't want this to become your daily routine--save it for those moments when you need a little pick me up. It's the closest thing to a time machine I've found. At least in this universe.

You Spin Me Right Round, Baby

You know how some people collect stamps or coins? Well, I collect hair doodads. Barrettes, headbands, ties, bows,claws, banana clips--I love them all. On my rare solo trips to Target, I spend 20 minutes wandering up and down the hair accessory aisle trying to choose which lovely will find its way into my cart. Joyfully, I pay for my treasure and head home with hopes high for a beautifully coiffed head of hair.


The problem that occurs is that my hair has a mind of its own. It's thick, wavy, unruly, prone to frizz and is wanted in five states for the murder of several weaker hair clips. Plus, those stylish headbands give me a headache. This,of course, means that most of the time I don't actually use the pieces in my collection for their intended use. But that's not what collecting is about is it? No, it's about the find, followed by the enjoyment of adding it to the existing compilation, and then promptly forgetting about it until the next conquest.

Given all of the above, I'm sure you won't be surprised to learn that upon spying this

on an end cap display at the grocery store yesterday, I quickly added it to my cart next to the bananas and dog bones. I mean the name Spin Pin alone was enough to get my heart palpitating. When I arrived home, I waited only long enough to put the perishables away before I pulled my prize out to experiment. The directions seemed simple enough:

and boy were the little guys cute!

But, given past experience with sprung bobby pins, I wasn't getting my hopes up just yet. They were super easy to put in--I imagine that those who partake in a nightly glass of wine will find the corkscrew motion oddly soothing. Yes, my bun is a bit off-center--completely intentional. {cough} I prefer it that way. {cough} Casual chic. Or uh something. {cough}

I did this hair do around 11:00 AM, and that sucker stayed put until I took it out at around 10 that evening. And this was no lounging around, eating bonbons kind of day. This was a sorting, purging, cleaning, rearranging, errand running, laundry conquering kind of day. I am officially impressed.

Today, I braided my still wet hair before spinning it into the bun. This is what it looked like 7 hours later.

When I took them out, I had still damp hair without that demarcation line that I get when I use an elastic to tie my wet hair up.  You can not even begin to imagine the height of my giddiness.

My next test will be Body Combat. If these babies keep my hair in place throughout an entire hour of jump kicks and scissoring, then I will build for them a throne upon which to rest their awesomeness. Oh, and in case you're wondering, this is not a paid review. I bought the Spin Pins of my own free will using my husband's money and benefit in no way from anyone reading this who chooses to also purchase them. I am just so ecstatic to have found something that requires very little energy expenditure on my part that actually tames my wicked tendrils. Plus, I wanted to use that cool camera switch feature on my iPhone. It's a win/win all the way around--like a record baby.