in case you missed it, i hate waashing my hair. and to be honest i actually dislike superclean hair. mostly because when it is clean, and airdryed, it is a giant puffball. and folks this is with sulfate free shampoos and conditioners. you should've seen it before i switched brands. then it was like a giant lion's mane.
ps. i forgot to do an after photo, and now i'm tired and cranky so good night.
my mom called me this evening just to chat. she wanted to know what i do for a living - even though we've been over this a thousand times - and eventually i had to settle with "i help people build websites." despite my cs/art background, she didn't believe it was something i could do and doesn't quite understand - she barely could explain to folks when i wrote online for a living, so you can see where this might be a bit hard for her to wrap her head around. i've also been trying to convince her to start her own site, but much to your loss (and believe me, this is a great loss), she doesn't want to.
if my mom had a blog it would be full of great things like this random story she told me tonight.
she recently read about a taiwanese police chief who committed suicide in his office. the office has been changed into some sort of resting area for long shifts, but folks would rather sleep in their squad cars because they swear they can hear the chief calling out their name. you know, a typical ghost story. however my mom's thinks she knows why he's haunting them. (1) because they need to clear his name in the investigation that made him commit suicide, and the more import reason to her (2) the pictures they showed of the resting area are filthy with algae growing in the tiles and if it was her she would definitely haunt these people until they cleaned the room and made it less disgusting.
that's right, my mom says the ghost is haunting them because the bathroom is dirty.
ps. i apologize for the ridic and wrinkled costume. i didn't have enough time to properly do it up before my midnight deadline.
for the past year, several people have been telling about how amazing the clarisonic face brush thingamajig is. and by several i mean at least ten. and by telling me about it i mean, they'd wax lyrical about how fantastic it is and how their skin has never felt softer, and how their pores have never looked better, and how i really should join their face-washing cult.
and during that entire time, i nodded politely and silently rolled my eyes with skepticism. i mean come on, it's a freaking $200 brush for your face. $200!
so then what happened? what made me buy one? well first i had a coupon that allowed me to get it for 25% off (and you know i love a deal). and second, after all the hype i couldn't help but be curious. i mean wouldn't you be if you were surrounded by a bunch of people who sing its praises any chance they get? plus, the folks with the cult-like worship of the clarisonic do tend to have really good skin.
so with a heavy heart and a lighter wallet, i admit to joining their cult. but i must say, it does feel really good, and well my skin does look healthy, and how about them pores, and you know, you should just give it a try it'll, your skin will feel so soft... oh crap i've become a full-fledged cult member. *sigh*
i'm not afraid to admit that i'm getting older. after all, we all age and until we master some sort of future-science, it's going to continue this way. each day i notice something that wasn't there before - a wrinkle here, a gray hair there, cellulite all over - but i don't freak out. it's just nature doing its thing.
however the last few weeks had me concerned about this area in the corner of my right eye. the skin grouped oddly there, and i kept thinking it was because i hadn't been getting enough sleep. well a good night's sleep and some thoughts later, i realized what was happening. i have wink-enduced wrinkles, aka WINKLES!
you see, i am recovering over-winker. for some unknown reason winking was my schtick in college. I honestly couldn't control it, it was like smiling, it just happened, and i might add, it's been a seriously difficult habit to kick (and yes, i was even more ridiculous than a certain ms palin). the worst part is that i can't wink my left eye, meaning the right has had to do double duty. see those wrinkles in the top outer corner? well they don't exist on the other side. i can just see it now, when i'm and old lady my right eye will be like a sharpei, and i'll have to insist that all my photos be taken from my good side. you betcha.
ps if you look closely you can see the freckle in my left eye. it's a small little dot to the right (in the picture) of my pupil.
My mom (aka morm and sometimes aka momy) insisted on doing my hair today. Tonight is the night of the chinese wedding banquet and the lady is a bit frantic (this is definitely her event not ours). I'm not 100% sure why one of her several hairdresser friends isn't doing my hair instead, but hey, you don't ask morm these things.
What you do ask her is when the last time she used her 1970's portable hairdrying machine was. Your answer will be "oh probably ten years ago," but both you and she will know that the real answer is much longer ago than that.
as brian mentioned, it was a sad day. it's not the first time i've gone through a sad day, but i do hope it's the last. unfortunately i don't think the world works like that anymore.
coincidentally, tomorrow marks the seventh anniversary of one of my other sad days. perhaps there's just something about october indeed.
on a brighter note, the brows are good, no?
As a kid my mom used to always say to me "Zui ba bi qi lai" which means close your mouth (although I do believe she had an implied "damn" in front of the word mouth). I would sit at the computer, or dinner, or anywhere, and eventually my mouth would go from shut to open. I call it phantom talking, as displayed above.
sidenote: this one was also taken in a bathroom. i apparently need a private place for these pics.
I've been meaning to start this daily self-portrait blog for about a year now. I just didn't know where to start. I know it sounds like a vanity project -- and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't -- but it's also a vulnerability project. There's a reason I'm always the photographer and not the photographee.
I didn't mean to start with tears, but figured it was as good of a place as any. And yes, these tears are real not crocodile. Only I'm not sure where they came from, I wasn't really sad, just sort of melancholic. And while I'm the crybaby of my family, I definitely don't think it's okay to cry in public, so what does this say about me?
private for scottel: what do you do about october?
