Girls your age

“Girls your age, never mean what they say. I got a renegade heart and it’s screaming his name. But then it beats like you’ve got time to kill. Baby, don’t go jump the gun. Live fast while you’re young, honey. Don’t go chasing love. “

This song by Transviolet has been stuck in my head for days. It accurately depicts what young women should tell themselves to be truly successful in life, overall.

“Bad boy talking fast, talking dirty. He tells me that I’m hot so I tell him that I love him. “

This is one of the truest sentences if I’ve ever seen one. How easily we are seduced by so little. Taken with any man that gives us attention. Daddy issues I suppose?

We all have em.

So I colored my hair. I am in phase one of the process.

I want an ash blonde balayage–where the highlights are painted on in a freestyle-like way. It is way more natural than your run of the mill, traditional, foiled highlights. The very Southern lady that did it for me, did a fairly decent job considering how black black black my hair is. So here is a before and after. In about two weeks, I am going back to get it lightened one more time to achieve the ash look I have wanted for so long.

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Now yes, my natural black hair color is really pretty. But ya girl wants to be a blonde for the warm weather coming up. I’ll post another photo of the hair once the process is complete.

I only wanted one person on this planet to see this hair. Could you guess who it was?

KFK. Of course, this beau lives about 5 hours from me so he has not seen it in person quite yet. Fingers crossed that he will. Now we do not talk to each other. I drunk texted him [god I am silly] the other weekend.

Even I cannot resist the urge to send a drunk text sometimes. Have a lovely night.

I stared at what I wrote in my text box for a few minutes until my best friend hit the send button for me. I immediately felt so stupid in my drunken state. We never speak. We never chit chat. My lame self sending KFK a text at three in the morning. No no no. I didn’t want to be the one who spoke first since our last meeting. I didn’t expect a reply. He is like that. I mean who isn’t like that. I have like 60 unopened messages in my phone right now. It must be part of growing up.

I was in the bathroom of the Hard Rock in my wedges and blazer and red lipstick squatting in the corner while my best friend threw her guts up. Poor sweet girl. I was telling one of our other friends how I sent KFK a message. She looked at me like I was overreacting. Which I was.

I will tell you every day of my life…I am unreasonable.

But she reassured me that it was fine. Which it was. He responded in the morning and said that he hoped I had a good time. I never responded. It’s been like three weeks and I haven’t even physically opened the message. I like it that way.

I like that we don’t talk that much. Everyone who speaks to me on a regular basis wears me out quickly and are normally clingy. KFK has shit to do. Has suits to wear. Has planes to catch. Football is his life. And probably dogs as well. It sucks cause in a previous post I talk about how I told him that I killed a dog…

Not realizing that if he didn’t pursue the current career he is in, he wanted to be pre-vet. Cheese. Why do I suck?!

But anyways like I said. We don’t talk. But we have this open-ended plan to stay together if I visit my sister in Nashville. He said he would take me to dinner and afterwards is just afterwards. Grown up shit most likely.

He did like my picture on IG of my new hair…that is his small way of communicating. I think that we go out of our way to not acknowledge each other on social media. At least I do. Don’t act like you don’t do the same. We all do it. This generation is fucked. Our little games…btw here is a meme that is so relevant.

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Daren is playing Thomas the Train on his little tablet. He is just being a good little boy. I cooked adobo and I am drinking Abita. My friend girl is coming down from Auburn to come hang out with me for a few hours so I cooked, cleaned, and got some wine and beer. Then we plan on venting about how much school sucks. She is in pharmacy school right now. She is pretty and Thai and I know her because she dated [whatever they are still acting like they are dating] a good friend from high school. He is at work right now so she is gonna chill with me until he gets off. He is at my university going for computer science.

 

OKAY. Now for the big news. No pun intended. 

I talked about my breast size in a previous post and how I hated them. I was like a 36E or some shit. Big AF. I was a 34C in high school and then pregnancy had me on the verge of mid-alphabet then after pregnancy 36DDD. But today I got sized by someone who was pretty knowledgeable in her bra sizing. She measured me and told me I was a 34DDD but technically a 32DDDD. I was ecstatic because that is a few inches off of me. I have come so far. I am so happy I am back to a 32-34 omg. I have been on cloud nine with that bit of news. Maybe being a dainty, little lady really is in my future. Maybe I will be able to capture KFK with my daintiness.

 

This week I dropped Calc IV, not because I didn’t think I was capable of passing it. Keyword “passing”. That is like the key to engineering. Just pass.

But because I overloaded myself. I was taking 15 hours Tuesday and Thursday. So when I dropped it, I feel an immense amount of freedom sweep over me. Yes I will have to pay for the class but I don’t have to worry about the load and I can focus on my other classes better. I was stretch thin. So thin like saran wrap but weaker. Way weaker. Saran wrap would have outlived me any day when I was still enrolled in Calc IV.

Then the following day I went to this coffee shop here in town. The number of the building is 111. I will delve into my obsession with numbers at another time. But yes. There was this tall, handsome barista man working that I had never seen before that started conversation with me. He is studying Greek right now and he said to me,

I like your name. In Greek it is Katharos, meaning pure. 

Wtf. Very good barista man. Pulling that outta your barista sleeve. Also pulling out one of the best lattes I ever had if I might add. So so impressed I was. He continued to talk to me about different cultures and traveling. He is very well traveled. But I cut him off cause I felt myself being awkward which I get that way often, and at that, I left. I was happy to have a quality conversation with someone well-spoken and intelligent. It is refreshing to me. Small talk that is actually mentally stimulating. He deserves a thank you note. Srsly.

I have to get writing my paper for ethics. Cheese it is gonna suck, or maybe not. But I am slightly buzzed. Yayayayayayayayayayayayayay. Good night.

 

 

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