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Archive for the ‘things I think are pretty’ Category

so many tiny hairs

Sunday, September 7th, 2014

Being of Italian descent, there are a lot of ways I could go with a post about hair.

However, today I got the hairs on my head cut. By this woman who I think is the most amazing stylist ever.

This is our story.

Like four years ago, the daughter of the family that owns me and Crockett’s favorite restaurant showed up with an amazing haircut and I complimented her on it and asked who did it, because I was in desperate need of a haircut at the time. She told me it was a woman named Emmy and I called her and made an appointment.

She’s a teeny tiny brunette woman who, at the time, lived in Nederland (where I grew up). She had my goal hair (which, as always, was sort of piece-y and easy and just super hot) and I was shy and nerdy when speaking to her. She gave me an amazing haircut that I can’t find a picture of. (Facebook, what the fuck are you good for if not for finding pictures of your hair from four years ago?) She was basically like me if I was cooler and had decided to cut hair instead of do math.

She intimated the shit out of me, and by the time I called to make another appointment she’d moved to LA. TO LOS ANGELES. Best haircut I’d ever had in my life and the woman who did it just up and went halfway across the country.

Three years later, I had terrible hair. You can only go to cheap stylists and say ‘please do exactly what I have but shorter’ for so long. Eventually it gets blurred into generic hair shape.

I googled Emmy to look longingly at her portfolio, because I apparently remember a good stylist better than, say, high school boyfriends. (True story – my high school boyfriend’s last name was the French word for something else, and the other day I was trying to see if he’d gotten ugly because dear lord all the rest of my ex boyfriends (Crockett excluded, handsome as ever) have gotten ugly (or they always were? and I just didn’t used to be shallow?) and I googled his name with the English translation for like ten minutes before I realized what the problem was.) She was back in Boulder, so I made an appointment and went. It was right before we went to San Francisco.

Unwashed, unbrushed, amazing.

Then she went and had a baby and stopped working for awhile (and one million congratulations to her for that).

So I waited, and grew it all long, and went to a stylist a friend recommended and medium loathed the outcome, and occasionally googled.

And then.

Unmade up. Super pleased.

Just cut, unmade up, super pleased.

She’s back.

You guys, I don’t know how to explain how important this is. Everyone’s hair is a pain in the ass, and everyone should have a stylist who understands the ways in which that pain exists.

High school boyfriends come and go (patently untrue once high school is over unless you are an adult making EXCEPTIONALLY poor choices but just let me say this) but a stylist who understands your hair and that you like it to be a-little-punk-a-little-shaggy-but-never-ever-like-the-mom-from-the-brady-bunch is forever.

cow-what now?

Sunday, August 24th, 2014

There are cows outside my apartment (if you’re friends with me on facebook or instagram this comes as no surprise to you, because I’m sort of obsessed with them, and Aggie is too, and I’m more than sort of obsessed with how obsessed Agnes is with them).

Tonight the cows are being especially awesome.

First, I think some of them have penises, which confuses me because … I am not a farmer and I sort of thought whenever you saw a bunch of cows in a field they were ladies. Perhaps some of them just have penis shaped milk jugs? It’s unclear. I tried to look it up but when the ‘how to’ guide used the words polled and homed like that was a thing everyone should know I moved on.  Anyway, despite the possible penis sighting I’m going to pretend they’re all of the lady persuasion.

Second, many of them are very unladylike and it’s fascinating.

My two favorites are:

  • The yeller! I’ve named her Audrey II, for reasons that are unclear even to me. The original Audrey II was pretty loud, I guess? So when I first went outside she was mooing as loudly as possible while walking away from all her friends. They have a pretty big field, and tonight they’re all in the section closest to me. Audrey II went to the opposite corner and hollered the whole way there. I sort of thought she was lost or confused, but then she turned around and came back and didn’t shut up. When she hit the group again, she took a very large cow poo and stopped with the mooing for a second, but then started up again. No idea what she’s complaining about but it sounds important and I respect her dedication to being heard. She did get a headbutt to the side (that failed to shut her up) when she got a little too close to…
  • The meanie. I’ve named her Edna, because that’s a serious business name for a serious business cow. She’s brown and the biggest and she’s closest to the path. She’s also not taking any shit from anybody. She headbutted Audrey II because … I don’t know, and also another black one because I don’t know. She’s one of three brown cows, and in writing this out I’m starting to suspect that she’s a little racist. Perhaps she’s not one of my favorites.
  • Actual second favorite: the babies. BABY COWS. They’re definitely bigger than me, but they’re new this year and I’ve been watching them grow. I don’t know what they did today, but it must have been hard because for dinner they all laid down in the grass and took bites while fully prone. I swear I saw one of them chew while sleeping.

It’s a thrilling life I lead here, y’all.

go sports go!

Thursday, June 19th, 2014

Here’s what I know about the World Cup:

1) The US isn’t out yet (that was true the last time I checked which I now realize was Tuesday so …). The US wasn’t out on Tuesday.

2) Some of the men aren’t ugly. (Every linked picture came from here. Just in case you’re looking for more. Or not. It’s all you.)

I am not a worldly woman.


well THAT’S unappealing

Friday, September 21st, 2012

Do you ever feel like you smell bad? (Don’t worry, I’m not talking to YOU. I’m talking to the other people reading. YOU smell lovely.)

This one time, in high school, a girlfriend of mine very casually asked me if she smelled like BO because she’d forgotten to put on deodorant that morning. She lifted her arm so I could get a better whiff, even. I know that sounds kind of gross, but it wasn’t – at the time it just struck me as incredibly brave. She was my best friend but I never would have asked her something like that.

There are lots of things that some people are embarrassed about that I’ve worked hard not to be. Like leg hair and my period. I’m a lady, y’all, and that comes with stuff like that. Then there are things that I know I should embrace but haven’t quite mastered – weird extra long chin hairs, I’m looking at you.

(To be clear, I get RID of my leg and chin hairs, it’s just that I don’t panic if someone sees me with unshaven legs. The time on of my McGuckin’s coworkers thought I had a dog hair on my face and then pulled it to find that it was attached? WHOLE DIFFERENT THING.)

Someone recently wrote to xoJane because her friend smells like poop. She thinks that her friend sort of knows but maybe doesn’t really know – she even did this thing where she said ‘I smell poop, do you smell poop?’ and her friend looked at the bottom of her own shoes and said ‘well it isn’t me’ even though IT TOTALLY WAS HER.

I have a point with all of this, and that point is that I’m wearing a very cute scarf today but I think the scarf smells. I washed it with some towels that were maybe a little musty, and I think now that some of that smell not only survived but transferred. (Crockett is very good about separating laundry and I always think he’s being anal, but I guess maybe he won this one.)

So it smells to ME, but it’s right under my nose, and probably no ones else can smell it? And it’s sort of integral to my outfit today. Without the scarf I would merely be a girl in khakis, a hoodie, and flip flops. Not professional. With the scarf, it looks like the whole thing was on purpose. But no one will tell me if the scarf smells without me asking, and if I ask them I’m the weird girl with the smelly scarf.


Do you ever feel like you smell bad?

things for this week

Monday, July 25th, 2011

Spilled Milk podcast

About them: Here at Spilled Milk headquarters, we combine food and comedy in a bowl and stir it up until it explodes. Join your jovial (possibly too jovial) hosts, Molly and Matthew, for recipes, cooking tips, winning lotto numbers, and catfights. Spilled Milk has not been evaluated by theFDA and is not intended to treat any disease, but just between you and me, it probably cures chlamydia.

Chlamydia, people. This is comedy gold.


Lubec, Maine

As you can see from the sign, Lubec is as far east as you can get in the United States. Of course, Canada is just across the Quoddy Narrows.

I’m pretty sure this is the kind of place that rejects you if you aren’t 17th generation or if you accidentally say ‘Quoddy’ wrong.

I kind of want to move there and make friends with some old men and eat a lot of lobster rolls.


Hunting Arrows

Who knew that arrows following your mouse around a screen could be so purdy?


Emma’s unite:

I couldn’t find this image on his website, but according to, Emma and Maria are the names to beat. He’s got a bunch of other maps too.