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Repunzel, let down thy hair!

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Nov. 17, 2010   Leave a Comment  

Ok, not quite. But for those who’ve known me and my work for a while- I have had pixie hairs forever.
When I shot Tipper Gore I had cutehairs.

Don’t get me wrong- I loooove my short hair. Well, at least I did. As with anything in this life, its novelty wore off. I found that I only had short hair because I was lazy. So October of 2009 I went REALLY short- I was tired of maintaining my short hair. Can you believe that?
Super Pixie Hairs

(Damn, that’s a sharp haircut! I do kinda miss the short hair… LOL I’m nostalgic- leave me alone!)

So, why would I grow out my hairs when I’m one of 20% of the population who can ‘get away’ with short hair (I love that- Get Away with it, as though it’s 1920…)? I wanted to look like a girl, a woman, and not a boy.

Look- I get it. I’m tall, skinny, and have small boobs. Short hair is an automatic lesbian statement in today’s society (and the ladies LOVE me!), and while it’s fun to pretend, it strips away a bit of your sense of femininity… which is precisely what I was going for post-breakup-2005.

But now? Now I want to be curvy, sassy, girly and look like a good-for-nothin’-woman. I’ve gained weight and muscle back to my ‘dancer’ weight of 1997, which is 25 pounds over ‘model weight’ believe it or not… (let’s discuss that later), have a few more curves and hair I can not only play with, but gets stuck in my mouth, under the straps of my bags, my eyeballs, etc.
Kevin Foong, photographer, 45 stories up mid-town.
PhotoBooth Fun at Fotoweek DC2010

So, It’s growing. And let me say- It’s 1998 everytime I look in the mirror. What a trip! LOL It really does feel like forever since I had long hair, it’s always somewhat fluctuated… it’s amazing the transformative properties and possibilities we have as humans… I suppose this is the higher meaning, the moral of this story. Just call me Aesop.

Let’s take a fun trip down memory lane!

The OG hair: This is taken circa 2000. I was a wee lassy.
Nineteen-year-old model-Carly Hippie Hair

I love bangs. Almost all my hairstyles have had them. I like hiding behind my hair. It’s true. This was pre-uber-short-chop. I had tricked myself into believing I was going to grow it out again, but for some reason didn’t like it… so off with her head, essentially.
I <3 Bangs

Who can forget the “who hair” phase… which progressed into the David Bowie phase (as were most of my “shit I need a haircut” days…)
Who Hair (4 a.m. wake-ups suck)

David Bowie Hair (If I had a dollar everytime...)

Dear SiVad, you were loved and are missed. RIP 2010. I wore this hairstyle to Soup or Salad (my peoples in the south can I get a heyyyyyyyyy). . . and elicited a LOT of response…
R.I.P.-photographer Sivad, God's messenger and creator of FishHair.

well. that was fun, but now I’m bored. I’m off kids. Stay Tuned.
CeO
(and always remember: I’m a Magical Unicorn. It’s true.)
I'm a Magical Unicorn. Last of my kind.

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Won’t you be my neighbor?

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Nov. 17, 2010   Leave a Comment  

Shift, Change, Instruct, Describe, Exude.

Welcome to my life. And the tides that gradually eek out a rut or wash away the grime… I’d like to pretend I’m a glass-half-empty-kinda-gal, but let’s be honest- I’m always out there spewing my love and light bullshit. Isn’t as glamorous, lemme tell ya.

That all being said. Clean cup, Move Down. There’s going to be a bit of a format change on this blog in the future to allow for more posting, more often. Enjoy!

Engage Metamorphosis…

This link is to a video of me and my boobs. Have fun with that! On A Rooftop by Kevin@Baynard Studios

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Midwest Melodrama

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April 30, 2010   Leave a Comment  

On Easter I ate ribs.
(are ya followin’ me here?)
Weekdays rocked out the coneys, and spent a dinner at Manson’s fave hangout. Charles, not Marilyn.
(“And Bob Huggins!”)
Saw a black guy that spilled cool like Run DMC, named Zoran, rock out the drums to the typical midwestern-bar-cover-band-soundtrack.
Wound up a mountain and tore down a molehill.
Birthdays in an old-folks home.
Rotated twenty stories up reading stories from the hills.
Bickered, begged, belittled and belied.
Demanded coiffure on a sportscaster and received my wish.
Auntie Ferrari and her husband Fausto are just lookin’ for a coupla nice kids to live in their attic, any takers?

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Everyday should be St. Patty's Day

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April 12, 2010   Leave a Comment  

Ok, so stop the presses. I have finished my St. Patty’s Day editing and now present a slideshow of the best St. Patty’s Day Parade on the planet: NYC. It was a glorious day after a shuffle between Winter and Spring in the ultimate face-off, and this day Spring won out.

I really do wish that every day were St. Patty’s Day–not necessarily the amateur-drinking-paradise that a city, especially one like NYC with ample mass transit, becomes. But the spirit of the Irish lives for too short a time throughout the year.

I haven’t been to Ireland, in fact, none of my living ancestors have a brogue, but for those of us connected to the Isles by heart, the Irish Spirit is a glorious, healing experience. This peaks its head out for 24 hours on March 17 each year, but should be present 24/7/365.

Alright, then tell your readers what the hell this wonderful ideal is already!

What I mean to identify to you, I suppose, is the spirit of community, growth (which is why it occurs in Spring, to associate with new beginnings), and brotherhood. Everyone smiles, an un-ignorable attribute of an Irishman, regardless of it’s birth in the alcohol on this specific holiday, and in that smile is an acceptance for the brotherhood of humanity. I can either make your life easier, or harder–and that result falls tenfold into my life.

As an Irish(wo)man, and even today as I pen this post, I will smile through it all. I will put my best foot forward. I will learn from my past and present my future with enrichment in each enigma that passes my path like a black cat to the superstitious. I will adopt that cat, feed it the best meats and love it until it dies and returns to the earth. As a Paddy, I realize the depth of the possibility of suffering, as well as the height of the possibility of prosper.

It certainly isn’t anything new (nothing is), and isn’t limited to us GreenBacks, but when you see a redhead smile, don’t assume all is well. We just assume it one day will be. It’s simply just for the practice, and to see you smile.

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Would everything stop moving meow?

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March 29, 2010   Leave a Comment  

So it’s post-DC-pre-Ohio-pre-pre-Texas, and I think I’ve got permamove on my mind…. even inertia seems to be lurching at the moment.

I’m back in Philly, but only for the night. ZDP and I will be leaving for Ohio tomorrow, and then Texas in a coupla weeks. We came in from DC-Baltimore Saturday evening, and headed to NYC Sunday night, with Rusty-dog, (who is my cat), in my backpack who was going to visit Uncle Andrew for the Midwest/Southern travel leg.

Can I be weird for a second and talk about my cat like he’s a person? Good.

This will be a nice little vacation for Rusty. There’s a window, and an Andrew. Which is more company than he’s had lately with the bounce back and forth between NYC and Philly, plus a few other travel locations I’ve ventured to on a short-term basis. He’s such a good cat, and is fairly used to his gypsy-mother’s lifestyle, although, he’s also fairly used to having some other animalia companions, but he’s recently become a bachelor.

The voyage was actually a lot of fun; how often do you get to be that weird person in the subway that all of the tourists are gawking at. It was quite an adventure. And I have the pics to prove it, of course!

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