Trendy Wendy Wednesday * Wendy Gets A Haircut

Me, my new hairdo and one of my favorite tshirts from my friend Stacey.  Cuz Iowa IS awesome! And 75% vowels.

I did something really scary yesterday. Like scarier than Halloween scary. I cut my hair. I mean I didn't cut my OWN hair but I had my hair cut. A lot of it. Like five inches. 

My sister and I circa 1980. At this point, I'm still recovering from the boy haircut. And pre-braces.

I can see you shaking your head. Yes, you. I know most folks don't find haircuts scary, and normally I don't either. I actually love going to my hairdresser Mario to get my hair done.  One, his color is amazing. My hair is a flat brown color by nature. He makes it look like I'm Princess Kate. And for a while, I had hair as long.

If you lived through the 70's then you remember these babies. My head hurts just looking at them.

But you see, there's a back story. When I was a little girl, I had long, straight brown hair and I loved it. Well, except the part where mom would pull my hair into those pony-tail holders with the colored plastic balls at the ends. Those damn things hurt my head every day. 

What I looked like after the "boy" haircut (this is Mia Farrow, but the resemblance is striking, I think).

I think I was about nine when my sister and I were shipped off to spend a week with my grandparents in Omaha. My grandparents came and picked us up at our house and mom causally mentioned that, "the girls could both use haircuts." Next thing I know, I'm in the salon chair with my grandmother looking over my shoulder and my long hair is falling to the floor.  

Everyone wanted the Dorothy Hamil.

Except me. I wanted to look like Wonder Woman (I still love her. My car is named Linda CARter. Don't judge).

Why didn't anyone have me dry my hair after coming in from the pool before the photo?! Good lord that's awful. And let's not even talk about that neck. (circa 1983)

Granted, it was the early 70's and short cuts were in (remember Dorothy Hamil?). But I had folks confusing me for a boy. "Are you looking for a present for your mommy, little boy?" (that was at the Singer sewing store in Merle Hay Mall as Dad, my sister and I looked for something for my mom for her birthday). I was devastated. 

The '80's bob was too appealing. Plus the coolest girl I knew had one. So I got one too.

This isn't me but it is my old haircut. Even the popular girls complimented me on my courageous cut. My mom and Dad? Not so much.

Over the years I tried to grow it back out. I'd get it so far and I'd get frustrated (or Mom would, because it looked awful) and cut it again. Or there would be a trend I couldn't pass up (Erin Henz and her bob haircut was just too much. I had to have a bob too). And there was that bi-level in high school. The one mom told me I couldn't have but I did anyway (got me in such trouble my parents pulled me off of the cheerleading squad as punishment - the only time I ever made a cheerleading squad. My life was ruined. But my hair looked awesome). It was in my thirties before I was able to stand growing it out to get it to my shoulders again.

Me two weeks ago today shooting the Trendy Wendy Wednesday Lipstick post you all loved. 

Long hair at last. But yet, not quite long enough (this was about 3 years ago)

And for the last fifteen years or so, long hair has been in and I've kept mine past shoulder length with the dream of growing it about five inches past my clavicle (for you non-anatomy people, that's your collar bone).  
But times change. And I was ready for a change. So I did what all girls do - I searched on Pinterest for a hairstyle I liked. And I found a couple of photos, pinned them and off to see Mario I went. 

That's just some of the hair no longer attached to my head.

And then I freaked out on the inside. But he was so excited about taking off the length, I couldn't back out. Five inches later, a bunch of my hair was on the floor and I had a new shag haircut. Which I love. Other than that weird feeling you have when you run your hand through your hair forgetting a bunch of it is missing, I'm loving the way it moves and it actually feels lighter. Who knew.

Lighter. Feeling free. And loving the buzz you get from doing something a little scary.

So my advice to you: do it. Now. Before the fear takes over. You don't have to get your hair cut, but do something that scares you a little bit. And then celebrate it. And tell me about it in the comments. And for the boost of courage - you're welcome.

Fabulous Friday Favs * Even The Cop Liked My Nails

My nails look awful. They're weak. And thin. I can't keep polish on them. It just chips off like fleas jumping ship. I've had acrylics (ok, that was in the 90's).  I've gone natural (early aughts). And more recently the gel nails.  Anything but natural killed my nails and made them worse than the were before.   

Bare nails awaiting salvation.

For the last couple of years, I've been doing the gel thing. But then I moved to the 'burbs.  Wait. Not the 'burbs. The sticks.  And the closest nail salon is 20 minutes away. Which in the grand scheme of things isn't the end of the world. But, it's just far enough that I can't seem to get there every two weeks anymore. So, my nails look like crap. All. The. Time.  

And here's the salvation.

However. . . . I think I have found my nail care holy grail. Deborah Lipmann, the queen of nail polish, has come out with a set of polishes that act like gel but there's no heat lamp (i.e. no setting my hands up for at best, age spots, at worst, skin cancer) and none of the damage that the gel does when removing it.  It's called Gel Lab and now my polish lasts for at least a week. Sometimes longer.  Which is amazing, considering I can get a manicure with regular polish and it's chipping off by the following day.  And then I hear my Mema in my head telling me not to be "tacky." Because my polish is chipped. And by her standards chipped polish was always tacky.  

Essy polishes for my color. Don't judge my polish names.

Here's how it works:

Step one under control.

First step: apply the base coat and let it dry for one minute Second step: apply your color 1-2 coats of your polish of choice and let it sit between coats for a minute each coat Third step: apply the top coat and let it sit for two minutes. And you're set. Done and done.  For two weeks, give or take a day.

Here's what I was going for, sort of.  But with silver sparkles instead of gold.

 

Here's how it ended up.  I'm pretty pleased.  And it will last two weeks!

Now I'm ready for my blogger's conference in Atlanta this weekend.  Yup.  Hanging in the ATL for a few days and I'm going to learn how to be an amazing blogger.  Expect some great posts next week. Maybe.  And even the cop that stopped me today for speeding (I got a warning) liked my nails.  I'm pretty sure that's why I didn't get a ticket.  See, now you too can speed around penalty free with your well manicured, not tacky nails. You're welcome. 

Your Friday Quickie * Joan Would Have Liked This One

It's Friday and The Hubbs, bonus daughters and I are finally off to Iowa to go see my family and some friends and hang out for the weekend.  If you remember, we were supposed to go a few weeks ago (and go to the Iowa State Fair - now long over), but The Red Dog was having complications from his surgery and we couldn't go. 
He's healing up nicely thanks to our new friends at Shiloh Animal Hospital and the sugar bandages we've been treating him with each day.  Info on those and instructions on how to do them was last Friday's quickie. 
So, we'll be VHHing (Virtual Happy Hour) with my parents (who don't really drink) and The Whole Smiths late tomorrow night.  After that it's fun, frivolity and the Downtown Farmer's Market for us this weekend.  I'll post highlights on Monday.  
But before we head off into the great blue yonder this evening, I thought I'd honor my good friend Joan Rivers, who had been suffering complications this week after undergoing an endoscopy.  Ok, she and I weren't really friends. But I like to think that we are.  (Originally, as I sat down to start writing this post yesterday, this was a tribute to her as she was still hanging on.  About half way through, I got an alert via my New York Times App on my phone that she had passed.  My condolences go out to her daughter and the rest of her family.  I'm guessing that Robin Williams is waiting for her at the gates and they're about to put on one heck of a show.)
So, as a tribute to my self-proclaimed plastic surgery loving "friend" I offer this as a way we might all stave off the plastic stuff and try to go the natural route.  I mean we all want to keep our looks but not all of us are willing to go under the knife to do so.

Fred G at The Bliss Spa Chicago.  He's like an even hotter Anderson Cooper but he'll make you look beautiful instead of humiliate you on TV.

I've been getting facials on and off for years.  In the lean years (and there have been several - 2005 to 2010, I'm looking at you), I did at home facials, but when I could afford it, I would go once every one to three months and get a professional facial at the spa.  In Chicago, my choice was the Bliss Spa at the W Hotel Lakeshore with Fred G (Fred is still there! If you live in Chicago and/or you are in town visiting you HAVE to go see him.  And, Fred, if you're reading this, I love and miss you!).  
In Atlanta I was too damn busy trying to keep the train on the tracks, so I mostly DIYd it back then. But since moving to the Raleigh area, I've found a great Medical Spa and an even better deal.  Like, a really good deal.  Like, I keep thinking the cops are going to show up and arrest me kind of deal.  I had been going to The Skin Center of The Triangle for a while, happily getting my monthly facials, which I thought were priced really well and my skin always looked amazing afterwards.  
One day I had to have a tiny mole removed so they could check it and so they submitted the procedure to my insurance.  After which, the receptionist mentioned casually that while they were getting authorization for the mole removal, they determined that I could submit my facials to insurance, since they are to battle acne. <I'm looking at your menopause, you bitch>   That would mean I would only pay my $15 copay.  Oh, and while we're at it, I could toss in an hour long body massage, since I have some muscle issues with my hypothyroidism and it would fall under that same copay.  
I'm sorry.  What did you say?!?  I pay you $15 and I get a facial AND an hour long massage?  And I don't get arrested?  Sign.  Me.  Up.  

Hannah the massage therapist who keeps me feeling young.

For the last couple of months, I head on down to the Spa, see Hannah first for my massage. She's great and while there are moments that I think about strangling her, she's only doing exactly what I asked, which is helping to work out the monster that lives under my left scapula (that's the wingy-like thing on your back).  For the longest time I had zero range of motion in my left shoulder. And it make a cracking sound when I moved it.  Thanks to Hannah, no more cracking and I can actually move my shoulder like a normal person.

Maria, the medical aesthetician who keeps me looking young.

Once I've finished up with her, I head in to Maria for my facial.  She cleans me up, performs some extractions (I'm one of those women that LOVES her extractions - i.e. no more blackheads) and then layers on a peel to help stimulate collagen production.  So my skin looks young and fresh. And zit free, for once (note to those under 35 - menopause and peri-menopause suck for the skin.  Big time. Hormones raging everywhere and you're skin is so confused.  It sorta thinks you're back in 8th grade.). And so now I don't have to have a facelift any time soon.  I hope.  
I wobble out of there all relaxed after paying my copay and tipping the girls (note - you should always tip on what the service would have cost BEFORE the copay) and make my way back up the road to BFE, my wallet a little heavier than it would have been. 
So, the moral of this story - if you have health insurance, check with your local favorite spa (it's much more likely to be a reality if it's a med spa, that's overseen by an MD) to see if you can get the same.  And don't smoke.  And wear sunscreen (although I forget to most of the time).  And you're welcome.  And Joan, we'll miss you.