Tuesday, February 06, 2007

clothes-minded with naughty tresses

so, I’ve been trying to get my life in order. figure out things I want, things I need and where those two ways of thinking mesh. I’m trying to do things, to be things, to start things. And as you learn in feng shui (which it’s totally my mom’s fault that I’m interested in), cleaning up and organizing your home is a big part of cleaning up and organizing your life.

now, I’m a messy person...

(man, those thoughts/nods/sighs/yelps of agreement were almost tangible!) Anyone who has ever lived with me or gotten close enough to me that I’ll let you see me with my cleaning-guard down knows this. But I’ve got some of you swindled though, and let me come clean—I’m a messy person. Not filthy messy. Just clutter—sometimes extreme amounts of clutter—messy. I try not to be, but to some extent it cannot be helped. I mean, if you’ve seen my mom’s house or my sister’s little house, you KNOW I’m doing awesome at being a clean person, comparatively speaking. Guess it’s another part of my upbringing that I’m trying to undo?

anyhoo.

so, I’ve decided that my closet (which, by the way, occupies part of my “love/marriage,” “creativity/child” and “helpful people/travel” areas) is a disaster and it must be taken care of. I need to organize and expunge—but not in that order. And a good way to begin was by getting rid of some clothes.

I tried to use the Audrey method—if you haven’t worn it in a year it gets donated—but I couldn’t bring myself to part with some of my dresses. And I am still trying to talk myself into getting rid of some pants that will never fit me ever again. I’m making an effort though. And hopefully when/if I move in—yikes!—six months it will make the process easier. Hopefully.

[step back from thinking the scary planning-ahead thought, carrie. waaaaay back.]

tonight? leave work at 630 or before. eat food. GO TO MY FIRST GUITAR LESSON. and then put on some eminem, ‘cause “tonight I’m cleaning out my closet.”

Oh, and the bad hair day part. Ha! You know how sometimes in movies ||:something funny happens, and then something else happens that makes the first thing even funnier:|| and they just keep building? Yeah, that. (man, using the musical double bars and two dots is helpful. Or if I could use a D.S. al coda…yeah, that’s the ticket, I think... Ooh, but hard to do with blogger. Yeah, nebbermind.)

So, I’m doing my hair, per usual. Wash, wear towel on head, put volumizing product in my hair—not ‘cause it works, but because it makes me feel like I made an effort!—blowdry hair, put top part and bangs in Velcro rollers, let sit while I put on makeup and then remove and pretend it’s done. That’s is NOT how it went.

I felt like the girl in the garnier commercials that someone comes along and forces hair help upon. Like a dee-zaster. And like everything I tried to do to my bangs made it worse—they were somehow flipped out at one point, then all going the wrong directions, then HUGE. I even resorted to trying a headband, but that succeeded in creating a little row of hair spikes at the edge of the headband. It was bad, I tell you bad. And not in the put-in-a-ponytail kind of way. because that wouldn’t take care of my bangs.

this hair disaster was ALMOST as bad, ALMOST, as the GHD1989ish ( the Great Hair Disaster of 1989ish--you knew that, right?), when I did my own hair for my school picture. I wore this hideously trendy turquoise button-up shirt-dress, complete with an angled, ruffled bottom, leggings and chucks—with the alternating socks of course! And my hair. Oh, god, the hair. Parted on the side with the middle top part pulled into a little side ponytail. This part, I crimped. The rest? Shirley Temple curls brought to me by the lesser gods known as sponge rollers. This, by the way, was when I had a perm, so the curls would stay. Oh dear. When I go home next I may have to abscond with that yearbook so I can scan it for your laughing pleasure. Yeah. If my hair today made me think of THAT fateful day, you know it was intense.

final thing on this very-long-for-a-tuesday blog:

I’m like 97% on getting the very dorky license plate. That’s avogadro’s number on it. (if you don’t know—here’s the sum-up, it's a nerdy chemistry number-- 6.02*10^23 another way to write it is 6.02E23) So, because of this number, at 6:02 on 10/23 you celebrate National Mole Day. Know what else is on 10/23? Kappa Delta’s founding AND my birthday! cool, huh?

yeah, I think maybe, just maybe, this is the license plate for me. It’s not like I can hide my nerdiness anyway—you talk to me for five minutes and it rears its cute head. And besides, you’ve got to be at least a little nerdy to know it’s nerdy in the first place, right? Right? RiGhT?!?

that’s what I though.

4 comments:

turner said...

I find it ironic that you're coming clean about being messy.

carrie-carrie-bo-berrie said...

I know, I was being punny. :D

Jackie said...

I love it!! haha! I am incredibly messy.. but only certain people know it.. and its more clutterific clothes, too..

Mr. Junk said...

I used to be very messy. When I'm at OU my room is usually rather neat. Since it's just me I can manage.

But the second I step in Mom's house that goes out the window. I've given up on trying to keep any part of that house clean. It's impossible, like Schrödinger's cat.

 
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