Friday, May 16, 2003

So my hair came out OK. The highlighting kit was pretty simple. Basically, it doesn't add drastic highlights, it just lightens the color a little so it's "multi-tonal."

Anyway, I decided since it's summer that I'd go with a lighter color than the mahogany I usually choose. The new color is pretty close to my true color, but the lighter highlights seem to look a little orangey in the sun (kind of like when I tried to use Sun In back in high school). Hopefully if I'm out in the sun a lot this summer, all of it will lighten up a little. It's not bad. I'm just used to deeper colors.

But at least my gray is covered. I'm afraid I may have sounded like I'm completely gray in my last blog. I'm not. I just have a pretty wide streak of gray (actually it's pretty white) hair that I can keep hidden if I part my hair just right. But usually, my hair gets all messed up, especially when I've been playing with my daugher, and the gray starts showing through. Now it's all covered in my new Chocolate Macaroon color.

The Friday Five:

1. What drinking water do you prefer -- tap, bottle, purifier, etc.?
I usually drink bottled water. Tap just has that weird after taste that I can't drink a lot. I just drink straight water. No lemon.

2. What are your favorite flavor of chips?
For potato chips, I just like plain. I don't really care for chips like Sour Cream and Onion or BBQ flavored. Just plain Ruffles or Lays, or better yet, Pringles, are my favorite. (But then again, vanilla ice cream is my favorite too, so I guess I'm just plain.) But I do love corn chips and Cheetos.

3. Of all the things you can cook, what dish do you like the most?
I make a mean lasagne. It's my mom's recipe and you make the sauce from scratch. She uses regular pork sausage and hamburger mean. I mix Italian sausage, pork sausage and hamburger. Then you add the ricotta and mozzerella cheeses. It's so good. But I must say that my enchiladas are pretty good too. Even my husband, who's Mexican, raves about them. I mix refried beans, chicken and cheese for the filling, dip the tortillas in hot oil and then the enchilada sauce before filling them, cover them with the sauce and cheese and then bake. Tasty!

4. How do you have your eggs?
I'm not really a big egg fan. But if I do eat them, over medium.

5. Who was the last person who cooked you a meal? How did it turn out?
My husband is a great cook, so he was the last one who cooked for me. He's great at throwing things together, especially when we have no food in the house. So he made a casserole with chicken, egg noodles, vegetables, cream of chicken and bread crumbs. Very good.

Thursday, May 15, 2003

I'm going to attempt to dye my hair today. Dying my own hair really isn't a big deal. I've done it many times before. But this time I'm going to try one of those new ones that also contain a complementary hightlighting color. I'm not quite sure how doing my own highlights will turn out.

After watching Extreme Makeovers last night (have I mentioned what a huge reality TV junkie I am?), I recognized some of my attributes in one of the subjects. Meaning that I have premature gray hairs that I'm often neglectful of covering up. After seeing the huge transformation and seeing how much younger the woman looked after having her hair dyed (well, it could also have been the eye lift, the liposuction in her chin or the nose job, but I'm not going to go there), I figured I'd better do some maintenance on my own hair.

I've dyed my own hair for years. I just don't see the point of paying $100 for a color that is similar to what I can do for $6.95, and lasts just as long. Of course, I've had my mistakes. I thought I would look good in that dark burgundy color that a lot of women with darker pigmented skin manage beautifully. But I'm not really a woman with darker pigmented skin. Sure, I can get pretty tan in the summer, but my natural color is pretty pale. So my burgundy hair color just looked purple against my skin. I found out that wearing it back in a pony tail helped hide the color, so that was my hairstyle for a few weeks until I worked up the nerve to pick a new color.

A few years later, I thought dying it red would be a good idea. And the color that came out would have been pretty nice on someone who went out clubbing every night, wearing a belly chain and facial piercings. Me, a pretty conservative dresser (my husband says all I wear are khaki's, T-shirts and clunky shoes ... like a man), the red just looked like a clown. My friends would often sing the circus anthem, "Do do doodle doodle doo doo doo doo" when I was around. Eventually the color faded and I was on to newer and better colors.

Most times, the deep mahogany colors work well, and I've done a pretty good job for the past few years. So I'm off to see what kind of color this new hightlighting system has, and hopefully I'll have something good to write about tomorrow.

Tuesday, May 13, 2003

I just finished reading Rachel's Holiday, by Marion Keyes. I had read her previous book, Watermelon, which was really funny and a great read. While this one was just as entertaining, it also had some dark moments, as it is about a girl's recovery from drug addiction.

But it got me thinking about how far I've come in my life. Not that I did every drug under the sun, as Rachel did. Not that I had to drink every day, and do a line of coke when I got up in the morning. But I did have my share of morning-after hangovers where I struggled to remember whether I had offended anyone, whether I'd done something stupid, whether I'd flirted too much, or God-forbid, actually hooked up with someone I shouldn't. Most times, none of those things happened. But sometimes they did. I know "I was drunk" is never a good excuse, but at times when my behavior was bad, that was honestly the only thing I could say that was true.

It was never my intention, in those old days, to go out and get plastered. I just loved hanging out with my friends. And as long as the beer kept flowing and I had enough cigarettes, I was happy. And it was a vicious circle. I'd get another beer to drink with my cigarette. I'd light another cigarette to smoke with my beer. Oops, better get another beer, because I want another cigarette.

I admit that I was very lucky in those days. I never got into an accident ... well, once when I hit a mailbox, but no one was hurt. I was never pulled over ... well, once, but that was because I ran a red light at 5:30 a.m. and managed to convince the cop that I was just lost. I guess he thought no one could possibly have been drinking until 5:30 a.m. Like I said, I was very lucky. I had good friends who looked out for me and made sure nothing happened to me on walks home from the bar. I had friends who never made a move on me, even though in my drunken state they could have. I had friends who stayed by me, no matter how obnoxious I'd been the night before.

I had nights where we stayed up until the sun came up, talking and drinking and smoking cigarettes. I had nights where we had the best time, only to think about it later and realize it wasn't really all that great. I've woken up with bumps and bruises, and one time a huge gash on the back of my head from falling down. I've picked fights with boyfriends for no reason except that I was drunk. And I had nights of pure regret, knowing that I never really liked the guy, so why did I stay the night with him? All of that in the name of fun.

Now that I'm a wife and mother, things are very different. First, I don't smoke anymore. My husband hated it, but I also quit for good when I got pregnant with my daughter. I do miss it sometimes, but then I think it's more that I miss the freedom of just hanging out talking without any real responsibilities. I also don't drink nearly as much as I used to. It's actually kind of nice to wake up in the morning and not have a pounding headache, a thick tongue that all the water in the world will not cure, a nauseous stomach, not only in need of food, but in worry about unremembered events the night before.

Yes, my life may not be as exciting as some of those whose blogs I read daily. But I can say that I've had my fun. I survived it, and now I've moved on to a more calm and stable way of life.

Monday, May 12, 2003

Well, I had a pretty interesting weekend, to say the least. Maybe not interesting to those who lead exciting lives, but definitely one I won't forget for a while.

It started out on Friday evening. I was a little annoyed because my husband decided to invite his dad and uncle over at the last minute to watch the Lakers game. I had told him earlier that day that I was kind of glad that we weren't having people over this weekend, because we've been doing a lot of entertaining lately, and I was looking forward to a nice quite evening at home. I was going to watch some "chick flicks" while he went to watch the game with his dad. So the change of plans was that I would still rent my videos but just watch them in my room.

So in my rather annoyed mood, I went into the garage and pressed the garage door opener, got in my car and proceeded to back up like I normally do. Bam! Shocked out of my gloomy thoughts, I looked in my rearview mirror to see what I hit, and saw my husband's uncle's BMW behind me. I knew that he'd parked there, because I'd seen it there earlier when he got there. But I had obviously forgotten, and since no one typically parks in our driveway, it's not habit for me to look behind me when I leave the garage. I usually start looking in the street for traffic once I've gotten into the driveway.

So I said a few expletives and got out of the car to see the damage. My husband and his uncle were coming out of the front door at the same time. Now, of all people for me to hit, our uncle is the worst. He's so into cars, has an old restored 280ZX and really keeps his cars meticulous. I started crying because I was so upset with myself. How could I have been so stupid? Basically, his bumper was scratched and the grill was pretty dented. Nothing major, but I just felt so bad. Everything ended well, because our insurance company (AAA, plug, plug) did an amazing job and everything's all set to be repaired. I have no idea how much the repairs will be for a BMW, but I'm just preparing myself for my insurance rates to go up. I've never been in an accident that wasn't my fault, so we'll see how things go. And our uncle was pretty cool about it, even the next day when we all went out to dinner for Mother's Day.

That part of the weekend was actually pretty nice. We went to a Japanese steakhouse, had great food, and a great time with the family.

The next morning, the true Mother's Day, my husband made me a great breakfast of fried potatoes, scrambed eggs with ham and cheese, orange juice and toast. No wimpy pancakes or waffles for me. I need a hearty breakfast.

Anyway, while I was showering, he fed our daughter the same breakfast, which she loved. I then sat down to eat, and she started in with her "begging dog" routine, standing near my chair, looking at me pleadingly for a bite. Even though she had already eaten, it didn't stop her from wanting more. I gave her a piece of potato, and she seemed content. She then came back, and started acting really fussy. I tried to give her another piece of potato, but she didn't want it. So I pulled her up onto my lap, thinking she'd feel better just sitting with me. Nope. She just kept fussing and squirming around. I felt her stomach and it really felt full. So I though maybe she had eaten too much. She then gave a little burp, and I was in the middle of saying, "Oh, that was a good burp, do you feel bett ..." when she projectile vomited everywhere. And then she did it again, and then again. All I could do was sit there, feeling this warm wetness on my pajamas, my socks, my tank top, my arms. She of course had it all over her too.

My husband came to the rescue with towels, but I all wanted to do was get us both out of our wet clothes. I peeled our clothes off, ran her a bath, changed into some clean clothes for the time being, and cleaned her up. I could hear my husband in the dining room, making remarks like, "This is so gross!" as he cleaned up the floor and carpet. He thought that was gross? He wasn't the one who experienced the full brunt of the explosion. But I shouldn't be sarcastic. He was a big help in cleaning all of that up. After I showered and ran the dirty clothes through the washer, everything was back to normal. I originally thought the potatoes might have made her sick because they were seasoned pretty heavily. But now I think it might have been the eggs. She's never had eggs, and I know they tend to make my stomach a little queasy at times, too. But whatever it was, it didn't affect her eating for the rest of the day. She kept everything else down, thank goodness. She's only had one other bout of severe vomiting and that was a stomach flu back when she was 3 months old. That caused a trip to the emergency room, but we were luckier this time.

So, enough about puking. Just wanted to acknowledge the events of my weekend. Lucky me.