Things, January

Way back in December I colored my hair a bit. I got balayage, where they paint the coloring onto your hair, so no foil. And I got a subtle ombre look. Kind of like I spent the month on vacation somewhere beach side. I was at work and looking at photos of celebrities when I realized that if I could be anyone on the planet, dress like anyone, style myself like anyone, it would probably be Rita Ora.  And then I spent an afternoon kicking my younger self for not being more brazen with my look, not taking more risks with hair color or makeup, not being the inner artistic renegade that hides beneath my soccer mom exterior. Because now I have to be all professional and all that barista time was wasted on pretty average white-girl looks. So balayage it is. It was pretty fun. I felt pampered, and it will just grow out as if it was meant to look this way all along, so I don’t have to break my lazy streak of only having someone look at my hair every 4-6 months. Win!

I just passed a really insane level on candy crush. Who still plays that game, anyway? Only sad people who aren’t afraid to pay for extra moves, that’s who. But anyways, it was a really hard level. I had to get two sprinkle balls together AND there were bombs, AND a bunch of walls to break down. I just won. It was a miracle. I thought you might appreciate the small victories of life.

Speaking of victories….

Kamel and I were at the NFC Championship game yesterday. It was by far the most painful game to watch and as it was only my 2nd NFL game ever, it was the most terrible and insane experience of my life. Spending the majority of a game waiting for the nightmare to end and then to experience the biggest comeback in championship history? It left Kamel and emotionally drained empty shell of a human. I still can’t believe the Seahawks are going to the SuperBowl again. I really don’t even feel like it’s real. At this point I don’t know if I can take the stress of it. (Yes I can.) Ps. Watching this play in real life may possibly be one of my all time Lauren highlights. 

I think I am coming out of the terrible dark cloud of horrible first trimester. Horrible first trimester is being followed by the season of SICK TODDLER PASSING YOU ALL THE GERMS. I was feeling pretty great, had my first real workout since getting hit with the Horrible first trimester, and then I got a WALLUP of a cold that left me with a dry heaving cough, a river of snot, two days missed work, and zombie like moaning as I roamed the apartment in a bathrobe. Yippee! Now that I’m over that, the baby has a new fever with a new ever-flowing nose of snot and a cough that keeps waking him up! Hooray! I’ll never be well again!

In other gross pregnancy news I have peed my pants more times than I can count and I’m only ALMOST 15 weeks pregnant. Just 25 more to go! I was peeing my pants almost every time I sneezed. Just a dribble, don’t worry. No couches were soiled in the making of this new human. But then when I was celebrating by jumping profusely and high fiving strangers at the Seahawks game this weekend and to my shock and awe more than a dribble came rushing out. It’s cool though, my pants were already soaked from massive downpours. And besides, who’s going to notice a lightly pregnant woman whizzing herself during the biggest comeback in championship history?

4 thoughts on “Things, January”

  1. I so want to see a picture of your hair!! I too feel like I missed the time to do crazy young person stuff with my hair/dress/makeup. I hate feeling like that time is behind me.

    Most of my first trimester was just crippling fatigue, which is made harder by working 12 hour shifts from 6p-6a in a dark room. I’m glad you’re making it out of the funk!!!!

  2. You know, I think it’s kind of badass to be an artistic renegade passing as a soccer mom (not that I think your style is really soccer mom-ish, but I get what you’re saying). The corporate suit with the full sleeve under his Brooks Brothers shirt, the mousy girl with the foul mouth and head full of big ideas, the insurance claims adjuster with the inspired Instagram feed. I love meeting people who let their freak flag fly, but I’m almost more delighted when I meet somebody who looks like a normal but turns out to be a political subversive or a brilliant artist or just plain weird. I do really miss the barista/student life and dying my hair and wearing wacky clothes, sometimes a lot, but that time was so rife with insecurity that the clothes were more like a costume than anything. What I’d really like is the freedom to look however I want right now, as an adult with more confidence in my individuality, not to go back to when I was searching for answers and friends with my clothes.

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