We're engaged!

Well, it's kinda old news.  We've been knee deep in wedding planning, which consists mostly of trying on dresses in thrift shops.  But, the last couple weekends we talked to a priest, went to a church, and looked around town for a coastal strip to have our 'party' at.  The 'beach reception disaster' will be discussed separately.  I think I have it typed up, but it's a little angry sounding, and probably needs an edit for profanity before going public.  Ha.

Also, I decided that instead of calling and emailing people, I will actually send out invitations.  Mostly because I thought it'd be fun to glue gun tons of glitter to cardstock and write things I consider to be witty.  I'm thinking custom tailored invites, talking about whether or not to bring your children, your liquior limit, topics one is not allowed to discuss at the table, and people one is not to pursue mingling with.  All this in glitter pens, and I'm thinking of recruiting underage help with cutting out appliques and various other merry nonsense. 

As a crowning jewel to these invites, I thought we'd take some pictures (because who doesn't want to see more of us?) and make these picture invites. 
I asked my dad and stepmom to take some pictures of us in some pretty spot in Norcal, where we headed this weekend. 

It must be said, that the main motivator for these pictures is a dress I got at Mainplace Christian Thrift.  It is a David's Bridal awesome chocolate brown bridesmaid gown.  Why I was trying on bridesmaids gowns is not really clear, they must have had a poor wedding dress selection.  Anyway, this dress was $9.  How could you not?  It has pick ups, and everything. 

Jesse offered that it is crazy to buy bridesmaids gowns, and I countered that he ought find a place to take me in one.  Well, since he has so far failed to find me a ball invitation, I came up with the brilliant plan to use to for our "engagement/invitation" photos.  And, since it was $9, I can take it to the beach and not have a heart attack if it gets wet or muddy.   Next up, Jesse was sent out to find an equally brilliant, but disposable if need be pair of slacks and a shirt.  I voted pink, citrus green, or lavender, and he got an off white that he claims is green.  He's adventurous like that.  Ha.

Crocs, check. Rubber ducky under-layer, check. Into the fog we go.

There's a really pretty beach in Pacifica, 10 minutes down the coast from my dad's house.

Few minutes after we got there, we got shooed away most ungracefully by the park rangers.  Tsunami warning all across Pacific.  All beaches closed.  Pack up your crocs and keep moving. 

 

We got some pictures though. I picked this weekend, even though there was a rain forecast. I like the rain and overcast days, and I think they're especially neat along the beaches. Water meets water kind of thing. Unfortunately, earlier today an 8.8 eathquake struck in Chile, hence the tsunami warning. The seas were very rough and angry looking, but also very beautiful.

We headed up to Half Moon Bay, figuring that higher cliff grounds were probably safe. 

 

Some cropping might be required to get rid of the beer bottle in the corner.  Clearly, somebody else also thought this was an awesome party spot.  By the way, it is supposed to be haunted by the Blue Lady of Moss Beach Distillery, whose parking lot we invaded for these photos. 

Also present were my sisters, both of which were a little terrified that somebody they know might see them, but secretly had fun anyway. 

On the way back to the car, we found this Alice in Wonderland type clearing.  It was practically waiting to get frolicked in, even if the children told me the grass was a good indicator of both bugs AND snakes.   Later, we decided the weather was far too crappy for snakes to come out, so that was nice.

The day really wouldn't be complete without finding a tree to climb on, and there it was, conventiently fallen, to avoid any photo inappropriate dress tree scaling.  Practically waiting to be climbed. 

The whole time, the rain would pick up on and off softly.  It could have also been the drops from trees when the breeze came through.  Or possibly squirrel pee?  If the latter, its probably good for the hair. 

 

My dad and my stepmom did such an awesome job, Jesse and I were really excited when we came home and looked through the (over 300) pictures, and we had a lot of fun.  I was going to spend the rest of the day in my awesome dress, but the good news is, since we got kicked off the beach early and proper, it didn't get very muddy or wet.  (If you don't count the rain/squirrel pee).  It's been at least $9 worth of fun, but it's likely to make other appearances.

Speaking of crocs, my stepmom thought we should mail this to their markting department and see if they can work with it:

Anyway, don't ever let your boyfriend tell you don't n e e d a birdesmaids/prom gown. 

The W-party is scheduled for either May 21st, Septemer 10th, or October 15th.  We're narrowing it down, and it's tied with money, my best friend's school schedule and tide times.  (Not because we're superstitious, but because we have a semi-concocted plan for a beach reception, and the proposed location on the beach might not be existent if the tides are not taken into account)  May 21 was my first pick, but that's coming right up, isn't it..

In a completely unrelated story:

It is full moon tonight.  Does it make you sleep funny?  Is it true that staring at it makes you act/think funny? 

No Poo Hair Madness, Week 8. B+

Last week was full of puppies, rainbows, kisses and stickers, as far as the hair went. I washed it the one time Sunday, combed the Lavender Bar through it, and combed it when it was damp. Apparently, the combing was a revolutionary event in this saga. The grey crap disappeared somewhere, and my hair was soft, wonderful, and ready for a Lifetime channel special.


It kept it up pretty well, and the top got faintly greasy by Wednesday night, when I took this picture, all delirious with non waxy joy:

I even had a nice little ponytail going, it wasn't all stiff, clumpy, and tragic looking:

All this reminds me of a Russian saying -  How do you make someone feel good?  You make them feel really bad for a while, and then stop. 

I washed it Thursday, again, with the Camomile Lavender Bar, and it was magical, and I washed it Sunday. This time I didn’t comb the suds through the hair length, because I heard it’s not good to comb wet hair, it’s brittle at its soggy stage, and, infinitely more important, I’m lazy, and I will not have myself in a situation where I must comb stuff through my hair diligently. If I had that kind of patience and determination, I would be curling iron-ing myself into a Beyonce look alike every morning.  If the No Poo thing meant I'd have to wet comb my hair, I might have to jump ship. 

It’s OK. There’s not a whole lot of grey crap in it, but it’s not quite as shiny and lively as it was last week. It just sort of hangs there. But, wax free, so I ain’t complaining.  It's just nothing to write songs or make glittery stickers about.  I’m thinking I can now introduce the vinegar rinse back into the equation.

I wonder, though, if the combing suds through is what got rid of the waxy crap, and now it is slowly accumulating back? I will have a fit.

Meanwhile, I think I should run and get a haircut while it’s behaving. I have delayed the cutting and the hair coloring until I came up with some sort of consistent routine, and a consistent, ‘non homeless’ look.

I also have my reservations about showing up to my hair guy, with a bar of soap, and telling him what’s up. It’s a fancy Newport Beach place, where they wade knee deep in Kerasta.. that expensive, nice smelling fancy crap I can’t quite spell. Among others.

It was completely out of question the 5-7 weeks my hair was covered in Hair Wax Play Doh, but now, I almost feel like I can confidently thrust the Lavender bar at him, and say, “No, no,.. no Aveda for me, and nothing too sudsy. I really want you to rub this here bar all over my head, and skip the conditioner. If you *really* want to, I got some vinegar water in this here decoy Sprite bottle. Don’t worry, the smell will go away. ”

I am guessing he’ll schedule all my subsequent appointments in very low traffic hours.

Meanwhile, I got a comment from Queen of 50c, an awesome thrifting blog I found while link surfing,  And, not only do we share the same garage sale jurisdiction, we are both doing it shampoo-less, and her hair has yet to fall out.  Every little encourgement matters. 

Lent Ramblings, and 'Un-Heathening' Jesse

Last weekend, Jesse and I played in LA, among Russian Orthodox churches. I would like to get married in one, but we do not attend one regularly. It was the bishop’s gentle suggestion that we come around on Sunday, to talk about engagements, details, and, you know, pray and do all things church like.


This one was on Micheltorena St, and it was lovely, in a quiet little neighborhood. 

I love the RO church in Chicago, on Lee St. The bishop painted it himself (the murals) and it is old and very neat.  There's also a beautiful, big church in San Fransisco that Jesse and I went to during one of our NorCal trips.  To find a similar, older place, we frolicked about Los Angeles. Orange County offers a few options, which we will have to take up on the weekdays – Jesse was baptized a Baptist, and apparently, the difference is great enough (things like the stance on Original Sin, etc) where an Orthodox church would not marry me and him.  Nickname of the week: heathen.  In its technical sense.    

I don't know what Scientology is all about, but they have an impressive 'church'. Reminiscent of Bellagio.

The Russian church on Fernwood St was just down the street, really beautiful.  Really large inside as well, and it's under construction, partially, so more is to come.

The neighborhood itself was a little rough

We passed a couple of Ukrainian churches as well, all within a few blocks.  The last, and the furthest up north was the one we were looking for, arriving just in time for the Russian service.  (English starts at 8 am.  Plus I like to keep Jesse in the dark about the happenings and surroundings.  Ha.)

If you click on the picture (in case you were interested in Russian church ongoings) on the back left, that is a confession happening. Your head gets covered with a tapestry thingy. I think it's part of the garment, actually. And you get asked yes or no questions about your various alleged sins. A few years back, I was really ashamed with the number of "yes"'s. This was also during the time I worked at the University cafeteria and took home far too many day-end muffins and bread.. Did I steal? Well, yeah.. Year after that I was working at Panera where they gave hungry employee students bread at the end of the day, so, whew.

Speaking of inapproriate behavior.  Right down across the street, by some nice apartments.  Shame on you, Tom. 

Jesse hadn’t frequented the church by himself, and since I would really like to be married in a church, he will read up all about the Orthodox religion, and be baptized. For this purpose, he will be seeing Father Martin in a near by church in Orange County. Right now he’s been reading up on it, and shamefully, he now knows more than I do. May be its kind of like I know more technical details about the English language, since I learned it second? On his part, he finds it fascinating, so, WIN.

(Can you spot a Tsar in this icon?)

It is an old religion (Catholicism split from it in 1300’s, I think. I wouldn’t quote me in a Wikipedia article or anything..) with old traditions, and where some religions have branched off and have made modifications to fit modern life better (is rock music really a sin? ), the RO stands its ground. The church is standing room only, the liturgy is in Slavonic (a dead language), with an English early morning option in Los Angeles, women must wear dresses or skirts, and cover their heads.

I was actually baptized twice. In the former Soviet Union, it was forbidden, but religion is such an integral part of people’s lives, that both my sets of grandparents had baptized me, and the other didn’t know. Once in Ukraine, a priest was invited and a secret ceremony was, in a basement. And the other in Kazan, Russia, in a small church. People could lose their jobs and get in trouble for that sort of thing, so it was a great secret.

It is Lent currently, and we are not to eat meat, dairy, or foods with oil. Shamefully, I have thus far failed in all those categories. Today, it was KFC for lunch. I will try again tomorrow morning, and also keeping in mind, that it is not only about food limitations, or particular foods, but limitation in general of that and other things. Skipping meat, but instead eating a truckload of rice is not really what fasting is about. The church can not marry you until Easter, because merriment of that sort is not appropriate during this time. It’s a good time to think about being kind, having a gentler temper, and other areas of life I can work on. That temper thing is rough. While I had bologna for lunch yesterday, I thought about and didn’t have cake after dinner. KFC chicken is a fail, for sure, but hopefully I can pick up the slack elsewhere. That Ebay bridesmaids dress I bought that isn’t *really* in “great” condition. Not at all, actually. But should I complain too much about a $10 dress?.. Stuff like that.

On a side note, after the service, the yard, there is a $9 buffet.  For $3 you can get a bucket of borsch, and for $6 more there are all types of awesome things, like whole fried fish, potatoes, etc.  Next time, I'm all over that place.

Week 7 Hair Breakthrough (No Poo Follow Up)

This week was just atrocious. I thought I had seen it all, and had patiently been waiting it out, but this week, “IT” has outdone itself.

I washed it Sat, and on Sunday it was stiff, gross and waxy. So I broke my ‘No- hair- washing- consecutive- days” rule and washed it with water only. Scrubbing well and everything. No dice. "IT" is essentially operating on its own, independent of me.  I like it that way, because I kinda hate to be associated with it, and be known is its owner/grower. 

On Monday at work I looked like drowned rat. Stringy, waxy, downright horrifying. Somehow (there may have been beer involved) I went to bed without washing it Monday. I mean, it doesn't smell or anything, but it feels like if your pantry dropped a jar of honey and mayo on your head, and both of them broke, and you accidentally forgot to wash it, so it stuffenned up nice and tight. 

It was rough, and on Tuesday I dared not take it out of braids. On the bright side, I no longer need rubber bands to keep braids in, even.  Around the same time I took a day off work because the flu had me knee deep in snot and headaches, so I was feeling pretty green and slimy anyway.
I broke down and thought may be going back to a baking soda wash would help. Tuesday night, I mixed up some soda, into an old shampoo bottle (Ahhhh.. shampoo…) and did my thing. Wednesday (as in, the morning immediately after Tuesday night) it was like I’d done nothing.  Waxy. Stringy. Stiff. Perfect for fashioning perpendicular Pipi Longstocking braids, or any other gravity defying hairdo sans product.

Thursday night, I did it again, but with more soda. Scrubbing, and washing the length, even. Friday came and no change, expect the dry hair that was super hard to comb. Dry AND super waxy. There’s a combination not for the faint of heart.

It seems that there’s less gray crap on the brush (odd), but, somehow, the hair is worse off overall. May be more greasy? I did the Boar Bristle Brush few days. The grey stuff adapted, and the wax is now in stealth mode. Either way, Russian Orthodox church requires women to cover their hair with a scarf, and the scarf never came off for the rest of the weekend. It may have been stuck to the scarf, too, who knows.

Sunday, I went back to the Lavender Camomille Bar. I rubbed and washed. But, as it was drying in the evening, I could feel it dry up in tell tale stiff strings. SO Annoying. I figured I’d give it a full 10 weeks before calling it quits and going back to shampoo. I just don't keep enough beer in the house for this sort of madness.  I can’t even go and have it cut somewhere, the way it’s behaving, people would report me for being negligent or willfully disgusting or something. I took my comb, and went to comb it out of sheer annoyance. The stringy thing is *really* getting old. So I combed it out, and put in into braids, so it doesn’t surprise me in some sort of a knotty clump coup in the morning.

Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. This morning, for the first time in weeks, the waxy shit is gone. I don’t know what happened, cause there wasn’t much on my comb either. I’ll have to inspect the comb when I get home. But, “IT” is soft, unwaxy, unclumpy, and generally behaving like it’s normal shampooed and conditionered self. I’m a little afraid to jinx it. It’s almost too good to be true.   I feel like wearing a pink tutu and twirling about.   I have many questions - will the gray stuff come back?  Do I have to comb it wet for the rest of my life?  How long will it stay this way?  I am a little paranoid, I worry it's a trick, and when I let my hair down (literally, cause it's on a ponytail) it will turn on me with vengeance. 

However, I try to not let that bother me.  Today, the beginning of week 8 will be all about enjoying a wax free head. 

In summary: Week 7 – wash wash wash FAIL wash wash comb while damp WIN. 
5 washes in 7 days. 
A+

I'll Show You Pictures If You Promise You Won't Run. a.k.a Hair Update Week 6

Well, it looks OK to the casual onlooker. It even looks OK upon closer inspection, as I often do, since I am paranoid that people will mistake me for a homeless, showerless woman. But the waxy shit was really getting to me, and I couldn't tell if it was working its way down or not. Either way, it wasn't doing it fast enough.

I sent Jesse for a Boar Bristle Brush (BBB hereafter), since I read it helps, and I can't realistically keep up the waxy stuff very much longer, or if I expect to be well received socially. Even though it doesn't LOOK like there's crap in it, it looks liek something went wrong. And, I'm afraid of developing a nervous tick every time someone looks at my hair. So. BBB.

I washed it Sunday, with the cammomile lavender bar, dried it, and some time on monday I took the brush to it. If you are a gentle creature, fast forward through pictures.

BBB in the beginning:

BBB after 3 stroke. (3):

BBB after a hair brushing:

Are you still here?  I know, the world was probably not ready for the pictures, but I keep reading about no poo experimenteres babbling about grey waxy stuff in their hair, but nobody has posted a picture to really drive the point home.   I know, it looks like dust.  It isn't.  It also isn't dandruff.  It's this crap, that coats my hair really finely, and when I brush it, it comes off in tiny, dust particle looking flakes. 

Then I spend an hour washing the brush.  It's not really fair to the boars, so I'll try to keep this one going instead of throwing it in the trash on impluse. 

Anyway.  Having washed my hair again Wednesday night (bar again, no rinses), it appears there is less of grey shit on the brush.  Which isn't the same as it being gone, but it's better.  Much better, one would say, if they saw the first brushing.  I'll give this approach a couple more tries over this week (7th week), and see if it almost disappears.  If I find it regenerates itself, I'm going to think up an entirely new experiment, during my drive to Tarje for some Suave. 

I Am Ready For Superbowl Mac n Cheese and Cookies

Specifically, made from scratch mac n cheese, that calls for half a stick of butter, and a pound of cheese (cheddar + gouda), and cookie dough stuffed into ramekins, baked in the oven, topped with raw cookie dough, and whipped cream (Or ice cream).   I can't even say any more.  Just picture it.  

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Snowsuit Awesomeness.

I happen to own one, but before this last weekends Big Bear trip, I learned I gained about 4" too much for it to zip up fully.   Also, Heather was looking for snowpants for her 3 children, so it inspired me to channel my aimless wanderings into something season specific.  We have since picked up snowpants for her 9 year old, but the snowpant check has become a part of the process. 

I don't ski, I snowboard (or sled), and I do own respectable fancy snowboard pants.  I prefer, however, my irridescent Spyder bibs from 80's.  But, I could almost see myself graduate to this:

 

Courtesy of Goodwill, of course.  It also seems to be one sandwich away from a 4" zip up disaster.  But I love the idea of NOT having snow in your buttcrack, all fashion considerations aside. 

But there are embroidered designs - on the belt AND back. It's like the wedding dress of snow suits. Jesse seems to be under the impression they are from 80's. But, lately, he's been saying that about everything I find adorable (Umm, the Awesome Beady Dress?!)

For example:

I would even blend in with the snow!  When it turned out to be too large for me, I suggested HE wear it.  He pretended he didn't hear me.  Men.  I mean, even if it IS unfashionable, it's only a short lift ride of embarassment (for the other person).  I'd be pretty OK wearing this around town. 

It's a little too tight, isn't it. Pity. This seems to be a recurring theme.  Have all the world's clothes shrunk recently? 

Also seen (Santa Ana Goodwill) was a whole snowboard set up, bag, Lamar board, gloves, K2 step in bindings + boots for $49, but the boots were too big.  I think I might just spoil myself at some point with brand new snow stuff. Can't ALL things be dumpstered, especially when you're partial to glittery, flowery, leafy Gnu boards. Sigh.