When you look good… or Ode to my hairdresser

It’s summer vacation, so I’ve been pretty lazy in terms of keeping up appearances. In fact, I looked in the mirror the other day and was like “woah… you’re looking quite different today.” One thing you should know about me is that I pretty much stop trying to look cute when 1) I know that I won’t be running into anyone for a while (i.e. vacations, school breaks, etc). This happens more and more these days, (maybe because I’m 8 months pregnant?) Anyway, I’ve been wearing my hair in pigtails and ever since my best friend from middle school introduced me to “half wigs lol”, I’ve just completely given up on doing my hair. I got my dogs groomed and even they look fresher than I did. lol However, my sister is getting married this weekend!!! agggghhh! So as you can imagine, it is quite imperative that I get myself together.


So I decided that yesterday would be the day I start to take care of myself… again. I came in looking sheepish as it has been almost a year since I’ve seen my stylist. At our last visit she told me to schedule a time to come in and cut my hair. “Here for my haircut!” Anyway, we talked and it was wonderful! So we talked and I learned that her baby is 7 months old and we also went to middle school together. (Who would have though DC could be such a small town? lol) Anyway, after having her rub my head and slowly bring me back into the land of the living, I can honestly say that the woman is a miracle worker. Long story short, a good hair dresser is like a good man/woman, once you find them hold on to them!

(I’ll post pics later)


Hormones and Sex

ice cream

This has nothing to do with sex, but I do love ice cream in bed!

ok… this might be too personal, but bear with me. (Sidenote, I had to look up the difference between bear and bare and realized that I almost told you to undress with me. Seriously, bare with me means to “get in your skivvies or less” 🙂 But I digress… what I wanted to share with you was something I recently discovered, or shall I say “re-discovered”, the roll of hormones and sex!!! *Gasp
So, without putting too many details out there, I met my husband seven years ago in college. He was my first “real” boyfriend and eventually we decided to have the “birth control talk”. (Another sidenote, watch this awesome TED talk by Melinda Gates about birth control. I love TED). I have to say, like a lot of couples (on tv), things started off well… REALLY well! I soon got on birth control pill A and things were even better since I no longer had to worry about an accidental pregnancy. Well, time passed – we grew up, we broke up, I got off the pill, we got back together, moved around, I got on birth control pill B, got engaged… then married… and so on and so forth. And this is the awkward part… over the course of that time, my sex drive began to change.


Don’t get caught with the wrong birth control. Do your research!

I’ve always had a pretty healthy sex drive, but upon switching to pill B, EVERYTHING went to a screeching halt. While it didn’t completely stop, it slowed tremendously. I thought it was the pressure of planning a wedding, surviving the first year, etc. But after realizing my pill hadn’t been refilled, I decided to quit. I’m only now realizing this having been sans pill for about 3 months, that I’ve been missing out on all these… feelings.. neurons connecting… synapses firing. lol So long story short, research your birth control if you’ve become a complete psycho overnight. Research your birth control if your doctor says “yeah, don’t worry about the negative reviews for this one. Most people are usually fine.” Sure clear skin, shorter periods, almost non-existent cramps are nice. (Let me stop before I convince myself to go back on). Finally, If you lose all wits about you over commercials like the one below, you may need to research your birth control:

Google is my worst enemy

I read an article –this article- and it scared the shit out of me. I’ve never thought of myself as a baby person, but damn it, baby fever is real.  Learning that 90% of your eggs are gone by the time you hit 30, will F*** up you s***. And I wonder, am I freaking out because I really want a baby? OR am I freaking out because my body is telling me I’m old but my mind is screaming “wait… you still haven’t answered what you want to be when you grow up.”

Both my ovaries and I give a collective sigh at this information.

Also, this is me played by Zooey Deschanel: