Saturday, February 28, 2015

Jinx! I Owe You a Coke

Okay, I don't want to write this post because I don't want to jinx this. But this is a blog about dating so I should just put this out there: I'm kind of sort of getting to know someone and I like him. Good gosh, what a coward I am!

Here's the thing, it's been a couple of months now and there's so far nothing really wrong with him. Well, his taste in politics is iffy but as long as he gives a good shoulder massage, who cares! In fact there are freakish things we have in common that frankly, two people should not simultaneously co-exist and have in common. I'm not quite sure what I would do if he shares my favorite bad movies too (oops! he does!!).

I have been quietly observing myself and my reactions in getting to know him and it's been quite interesting. To be honest with you, I'm used to people picking and choosing what they think is cool about me; at best, they see me as a novel creature. People tend to focus on one part of my personality they like and ignore the rest, willing it away. It's maybe what happens when you're an eclectic personality.

This time, however, I feel... normal... What an odd thing to be. I'm a vagabond, having moved 10 times in my adult life. I'm a Native/Scot/German who is Greek Orthodox. I have a love for '80s metal bands, esoteric languages, and the fiber arts. I'm a Mongolphile and have more than a little crush on Genghis Khan. There's never been anything "normal" about me and even my closest family scratches their heads about me.

So I sit and observe myself and I realise that I'm a commitment-phobe all of which is very fear-driven. "Duh," the world seems to say and I say that too but I see the very manipulative ways I play with my own mind. I tend to always look for ways out instead of reasons to stay. I see a teeny tiny crack and I basically bulldoze it until there's an unrepairable hole. But I'm not doing that this time, or at least I am trying my damnedest not to.

I think the next question is if I've been doing this my whole life how many great men have I let go? Surprisingly, not many. Seriously, have you READ my blog?? There are a few exes that have remained friends, guys that are good guys. I'm glad we got through the hurdles and became friends but I don't look back: there were very good reasons those relationships ended and it wasn't all because of me or all because of them- it was just time to end.

I also know that a lot of my fear has to do with protecting my heart. Losing my mom- even saying those words makes me tear up- that was the single worst thing that ever happened. And if you know me, that's saying a lot. Going through Life's milestones seem rather insignificant when I couldn't share them with her. I have very little family left and I've become rather skittish about adding more people to care about; I know how devastating it is to lose them.

So here I sit, observing myself and my fears. I'm not fighting these feelings or stuffing them down inside, just sitting in a Buddhist-like observation. Even so I move forward in getting to know this guy. I don't want to jinx anything by even mentioning him but I need to get over that too. Already I am moving in a good direction if I'm attracting people into my life like him. And even if this goes no further I can't tell you how wonderful it is to be free to fully be yourself and I also can't tell you how much I enjoy getting to know him.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Photo IDs

I've always had this thing for spy movies. I imagine myself some svelte honeypot with a lethal Black Widow vibe. I now live in the city with the most spies in the world. I've also been to the Spy Museum more than I care to count, have memorized my game secret identity (I am a 58-year-old fisherman from Russia visiting family in Boston named Igor)- see, isn't this fun?? 

I've also shown my many IDs to my new friends here; friends whom have never seen me with anything other than silver locks. One was my passport where I'm sporting long, dark brown hair with side-swept bangs. One is my old driver's license with shorter, curly light auburn hair. The other is my badge with a long red ponytail and bangs. 

I am in-cog-ni-to, so incognito that I have no photo IDs that can sucessfully get me through the airport. Luckily I have a new VA driver's license that shows my silver hair because I've been stopped more than anyone by TSA. 

Happy of all happies? My passport and badge are also up for renewal. FINALLY. Okay my passport expired. Yes, it expired last year and I refused to have two-tone hair for a 10-year photo. So in my uber vanity I decided to wait until I graduated and my hair grew out a bit before I renewed it. I extended said vanity by looking at for the best place to get said passport. Don't judge, you do it too. 

I just completed the overly complicated process for renewing my badge. Tomorrow I will get dolled up and have my photo taken... and fingerprints taken... and violation of any semblance of privacy... Anyhoo. 

This may not seem like a big deal but it really is because my identity includes being a silver sister. I'm not a redhead, or auburn, brunette, or colour d'jour. I AM a silver sister. Something about updating all of your IDs and having those IDs reflect you as you are now is just another level of acceptance. This is another way of severing the past and embracing the future and the new you. I may not blend into the background anymore and I just gave up any hope of my spy fantasy but I certainly feel way more interesting.

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Best Conditioner in the World

It is Winter here and that means dry everything- cracking hands, wind burnt face, chapped lips, and brittle hair.

No matter what, I always seem to want to buy the next miracle brand of product. This is probably because I'm American and a born consumer but I'm always convinced that there's going to be some fix-all product out there for my hair. Well there is and it's coconut oil.

I've raved about the wonders of coconut oil before but it never ceases to amaze me. I'm now dealing with dye-free hair that's in its healthiest state in 20 years. I can't blame the state of my hair on the dyed and fried ends or from keratin treatments. Now I'm seeing my hair and its unique personality. Lately this personality has revealed itself to be moisture-lacking dull grey hair.

I've gone to some of my miracle products- from the cheaper end Frizz-ease lotion (which made my hair seem a litle less dry but still a bit crispy), to my mid-range serum (which made my hair feel dry with an oily coat), to the high-end Living Proof (which made my hair feel dry with a waxed coat). Maybe these shouldn't be miracle go-to products after all?

It wasn't until I thought about my old friend the coconut oil that I used it as a last resort. Well I guess the best was saved for last because it instantly transformed my hair! It is so luxe and soft now. There are many uses for coconut oil and I'm going to list some below: 

Internal Health 
A tablespoon swallowed is good for you. I take one and melt one over my dog's food. I believe it gives us both a shiny coat. 

Cracked Skin 
I use this on elbows and also the pads of my dog's paws. A few uses and we're both feeling better. 

Makeup Remover 
This is the single-best eye makeup remover I've come across. It can take off any mascara without pulling out half of your eyelashes. 

Quick Hair Fix 
A little goes a long way so for my just-past-the-shoulders hair I use a teaspoon (if that). I take a little bit, rub it in my hands until it's an oil, and distribute through my hair very sparingly. You'll see an instant change in your hair and in an hour your hair will be perfectly hydrated. 

Deep Conditioner 
Here I use a tablespoon or more and coat my hair. Some people cover their hair and sleep with this in but I find that leaving it in for an hour and washing it out works well. You'll never have to buy expensive hair products again.

Monday, February 2, 2015

New 'Do

It's been a minute since I had a haircut... six months, to be exact. I went in, sheepishly hiding under my hat and awaiting the wrath of a new stylist lecturing me on the importance of haircuts every six weeks. Enter Yorda, a Senior Stylist at PR Partners in Shirlington.

Now I'm going to stop for a minute and reiterate how difficult it is to find a good stylist, especially if you're a silver sister. Stylists seem too often to shame people into thinking they need hair dye. Even the subtlest of raised and exasperated eyebrows, the sighs of "what are we going to do with THIS hair," or the half-assed effort spent on you. You'd think I was exaggerating but it's still too common for stylists to think that since you own your grey you have somehow given up on yourself and require the bare minimum from them.


So when I DO find a great stylist, I want to pass that information on. I would like to say that Yorda was great- she loved my color on me, listened to my goals of growing my hair out, and gave me a cut to get me where I was aiming. She gave an awesome consultation, asking what I liked about different photos and really explained what she was going to do and why. Awesome! And she did this all while commenting on how healthy my hair was. Double Bonus!

I think the comfort started at the get-go when there was a detailed form I had to fill out. This has my goals, whether I wanted to talk about hair color, etc. It's a standard form they collect on everyone and I felt free to list that I liked my color, had no intention of dyeing it. I could also put in my allergy with hairspray and my desire to not use curling irons/flat irons (still not trusting after the one burned and yellowed that section of my hair). That was helpful as I didn't feel critical or high-maintenance, but still felt like I had a voice in my hair.

And voila! I don't feel like I lost any length but she thinned out the bottom and took that bulky weight out. It feels so much healthier and I love it. I also noticed that it lightened my hair. Apparently I am greying at a rapid pace and every cut shows lighter and lighter hair. I now have an ombre going down my hair that is purely natural. At this rate, I'll be white in 5 years! I'm not sure that this is normal, but it's kind of cool all the same.