Jackson* Round Head
I have a very large head. Gigantor, really. It is seriously big, and has caused me problems my whole life, even from birth.
See, my abnormally huge-moungous head would not pass through my mother's birth canal... even after hours of trying... hence my being brought into this world via C-section. It's not something my mother lets me forget.
Since then, life has been one head related disappointment after another. I can't wear plastic headbands, or many other head related fashions of the "one size fits most" persuasion.
My dad had to special order my fitted Indians cap. Sized 7 5/8. The only person that wears a bigger hat size is my dad himself, clocking in at 7 3/4. In high school I even had a name for my issue. Jackson* Round Head. Close, personal friends, would sometimes refer to me as J*RH.
Most of the time I get through life not really thinking too much about the fact that I have a small planet sitting atop my neck. But there are times where I can't help but be reminded that my head is far too huge for my body.
Yesterday I got my hairs cut. For me, getting the hairs cut is akin to weed whacking a small yard. I have a lot of head... and a lot of hair on that head. Yet every stylist seems to think I have baby fine hair that needs to be pumped full of volume in order to achieve perfection. While volume may be a plus for those of normal sized head, with normal sized hair folicals, for me, volume = BAD NEWS. Like can't fit through normal door way bad news. Inevitably I end up de-volumizing the second I walk out the door, as to not be assigned a separate zip code or other citation on my way home. Yesterday was no different. I really should have taken some "before pictures... but honestly, I don't have a wide angle lens, so it would have been difficult. Anyhow, after taming it down to flatter proportions, I am quite happy with the look, even though it is a lot shorter than it has been in more than a decade.
Pleased to enjoy:
See, Me head is so big it still wont fit in frame!
*Maiden name changed to protect the innocent.
Age: 251
What?!
I just happened to click on my blogger profile, and according to it, I am a spry 251 today.
Now, that's a way to feel old... for sure.
Because I Haven't Posted Shit in Too Long
Someone apparently thinks I need something to blog about. Really, it's just that I have no motivation to do shit right now;) That said, I really don't know what there is that I haven't shared with at least some of you all... but here goes:
TAGGED!The rules are: once you have been tagged, you have to write a blog with six weird, unique or unusual facts or habits about yourself.... at the end, you need to choose six people to be tagged and list their names and why you chose them.... don't forget to send them each a comment that says, "you have been tagged....go read my latest blog...."
1. I have to say goodbye to my cats before I leave the house in the morning. If I don't, I worry about them all day.
2. I am a chronic blog lurker. I read tons of blogs everyday, but usually have a hard time coming up with something to post as a comment. I suck.
3. I HAVE to weigh myself every morning when I get up, after I pee, in the buff. HAVE to. If I don't, I just know I will wake up at 220 pounds again one day.
4. Speaking of food. I eat between 35-50 grams of fiber (natural fiber, not supplements) a day. I am more regular than the atomic clock. Also, there is such a thing as TOO MUCH fiber. It's not pretty.
5. I cannot stand the sound of whistling. It drives me absolutely batty---and all of my co-workers do it constantly. So annoying.
6. I have a very hard time being a passenger in a car. In my opinion everyone else driving sucks and I cannot hang with it... esp in the front seat. In the back seat I can close my eyes and hope for the best.
Im not tagging anyone for this one... sorry guys, but I don't know 6 of you that haven't done it yet... If you want to be tagged, consider it done, and let me know that you posted!
Mememememememe
For the record, I was totally planning on posting part 2 of It's not easy being green... but this was so much easier to steal this meme from Cece, and I am feeling a tad lazy. Part 2 soon!!!
Two Things
Two Names You Go By:
Sara
Oh Hi Ho
Two Things You are Wearing Right Now:
Jeans
Tank top
Two Things You Want in a Relationship:Honesty
Humor
Two of Your Favorite Things to Do:Visit with friends
Snuggle with my husband or my cat
Two Things You Want Very Badly at the Moment:nothing, really.--OK, if I had to pick 2 things:
Plane ticket confirmation
It to be July 5Two Pets You Had/Have: Ellie (aka miz moo)
Kiki (aka Buttface Mister)
Two Things You Did Last Night:Made dinner
Fell asleep on the couch
Two Things You Ate Today:
Spinach
Barley
Two Longest Car Rides:4 days: Cleveland to Washington
24 hours: Cleveland to Disney World
Two Favorite Holidays:
Thanksgiving
ChristmasTwo Favorite Beverages:
Apricot Weizen
Margarita on the rocks, extra salt
Happy anniversary Honey. Thank you for 2 of the best years of my life. I can't wait to send many more with you.
It's not easy being Green.... Part 1,The Backstory.
Im not sure how to say this, but I have a confession to make.
I think I'm becoming a Hippie.
Not a damn dirty, drum circle lovin, dreadlock growin,
Whipit huffin, Acid droppin, Phish followin son of a Doctor with the Land Rover to prove it wanna-be-hippie , but a real honest to god
Hippie (although, I can't say I agree with everything on that list---and I never have been any good at Hacky Sack or that into being Nekkid in public while in my right mind*). Yes, even as I sit here in my hot pink IZOD Polo and Made in China Fleece vest encrusted with my companies logo, with Justin Timberlake blasting into my ear (mmmm juuuuuussssssttttttinnnnnnnn) I can feel the idealism that I so closely associate with True Hippies building inside of me. I mean, I have worn my Birkenstock's (bought second hand even) all week, and that certainly counts for something, right? Only, I wish that was the end of it... unfortunately, it's not. In fact, it's been building for awhile now.
It all started at college. Those of you under, say 35? may not know the significance of where I attended school, but I am here to assure you that my Alma Mater Has not moved on as much as one would have hoped since that fateful
day in May.
I never gave it much thought at the time, but now that I compare my college experience with those of others, I realize that the I went to school in a time warp. Every single person on my floor was a hippie (Except for the one girl with the STEVE AUSTIN FOR-LIFEA signs on her door... and she just kept holed up in her room watching Raw and shit so she totally doesn't count.)... There were lots of drugs, especially by the Student security guard that lived 2 doors down who I would oft find at the picnic bench out side the building with her SECURITY jacket on token up in the middle of the day. 4.20 was a full fledged holiday. Dreadlocks, acoustic guitars, natural fibers, and 'glass pieces' abounded.
Most of the people on campus, and in the groups I found myself surrounded with on to many occasions were what I call wanna-pies. They wore lots of hemp, showered seldom, and took an equal pride in their dread growing and acoustic guitar playing skills. They listened to a lot of Phish. A. Lot. Of. Phish. They also had money from daddy, a new ride, and a sweet cell phone (and Im sure now,a Video Ipod to match). They were hippies because it was cool to get high and spend a weekend camping on someones farm under the rouse of a music festival. But there were some True Hippie peeps out there, and I dated one for the first 3+ years of my college career.
Bobby was, and to this day remains in my mind, the epitome of what a True Hippie stands for. Not only was he All About The Music. He also held many of the same beliefs and morals. He was not so much into the whole free love, lets be free and naked and not bath line of thinking, and in fact if you met him, you would see him as a clean cut, shy dude who had a penchant for corduroy and a ragged pair of Birkenstock's.
He did have some great
Chops though.
He wasn't over top, in your face about issues. He didn't spend a week knocking on everyone's dorm room door to lecture them on the evils of deodorant (Now thats a whole other post right there). I never once saw him wearing a NORML T-shirt although he did read High Times from time to time. He believed what he believed, and that was enough for him. Laid back, Live and let live... the essence of the TH.
As much as I was surrounded by it, I never got too caught up in the "Hippie" culture. Sure, I had a couple of tie back shirts bought on
Shakedown Streets at various festivals throughout Northeast Ohio, and I partook in what cannot be described as anything other than Illegal activities, but over all, I was far too busy earning my
degree to really get "into" anything else too deeply. Then during my 4th and final year of school, Bobby and I broke up, and with him went any inkling of Hippieness. Or so I thought...
This has gotten way too long, and too far from the original point I was working towards. Stay tuned to a far less entertaining, but hopefully more on topic soon.
*Yeah, that's a story for another time. You could put money on the fact that it starts with this one time, at hippie festival... though.
**Also? How awesome is Wikipedia? For realsies people. Awesome. And also, 100% FACTUAL, I am sure.
Labels: College, This one time...
There are some names you just can't call yourself.
**Yeah, this post found me unleashing some pent up rage... but if you knew what my first year of college was like, you would understand completely.**
I have hated Tori Amos since my room mate freshman year played her for 9 months straight (... but her latest song seemed upbeat and fun... POPPY even. I had even almost said out loud that I didn't hate the song (something that I LOATHE doing, remind me of the Neil Young issue sometime), when I heard the line that would put Ms Amos squarely back into the SEETHING RAGE category (for those of you keeping score, that's the sixth level of Sara's Musical Hate. The only lower level being Dead To Me if You Like Them---or U2). Behold:
I-I-I am a M-I-L-F
Don't you forget
M-I-L-F
Don't you forget
M-I-L-F
Don't you forget
Wha-wha-what?! Does this Koolaide headed biz-natch not know that one cannot CANNOT call them self a MILF? I mean, seriously. How can YOU be a Mom I(YOU!)'d Like to Fuck?! Although, it is Tori, and she is a freak--but none the less... just wrong.
So thanks Tori, for not writing something I could ever respect you for. My hate for you has not had to be overturned, and for that, I am thankful.
And for what its worth, your not even that hot. Unless stringy haired, whiny assed, bi-sexuals, that had a troubled childhood and can't get over it (news flash, all of us had troubled childhoods, your not origninal to that. Pull up your big girl panties and get on with life) do it for you.
Labels: HATE, music, Saraisms
See, Me head is so big it still wont fit in frame!
