"Aha!"
"Who the hell wrote this script?"
Friday, 1 June 2012
Tuesday, 29 May 2012
Don't be Tardy to the Party!
As always, I'm later than the White Rabbit when it comes to news (I genuinely need to check my -mails more regularly). Everybody left, right and centre seems to have been attending hair events.
Maybe next time.
I'll be lucky.
Maybe next time....I'll gooooo.
(Glee reference, not Cabaret).
Moping will do me no good.
It's far too late to attend the Manestream Beauty Accessory event, but I'm putting the poster up because I simply adore the picture.
Maybe next time.
I'll be lucky.
Maybe next time....I'll gooooo.
(Glee reference, not Cabaret).
Moping will do me no good.
It's far too late to attend the Manestream Beauty Accessory event, but I'm putting the poster up because I simply adore the picture.
 |
| Yes, I will wear massive hair, a headscarf and 1000 rings. Because I'm worth it. |
However, it's not too late to attend the Manestream Beauty's Mixtress Summer Event later this month! In addition, it's only a tenner if you get an early bird ticket ^_^
I will not be able to go, because I'll be in Edinburgh at that time, but if you do manage to go, let's see some awesome pictures!
Monday, 28 May 2012
Castor-Way Dryness
The shower cap method thingy just wasn't working.
My problem wasn't so much what was happening at night, but what was happening during the day - it was deliciously hot last week. I delighted in it. My skin delighted in it.
But my hair wept. It was. Not good.
The shower cap situation wasn't doing much except to make me feel quite hot during the night (and nobody really needs that, eesssh!).
So I rummaged in my cardboard box of stuff, digging for the treasure that is my bottle of castor oil.
I poured some into some molten coconut oil (and then recoiled sharply at the smell, because phew-ee, 3 months of distance did not make the nasal glands get any fonder of castor oil's whiff).
Slicked it on my head, sprayed on some water, and then let it be.
That was Tuesday.
It's Monday today and I did it again after my Saturday wash and my hair is still singing.
No, wait. It's dancing.
Basically, castor oil mixed with something else = liquid gold on my hair when it's dry, thirsty and needs some TLC.
And it's cheap. So cheap! And it works so well! I can't imagine slathering it on by itself - images of slicking smelly treacle onto my head come to mind - but diluting it with coconut oil seems to work so well.
The next day, my hair still felt good, despite facing off the heat in a room where the temperature seemed ever increasing and focused directly on my neck.
I decided to be a little exciting when I got back and attempt to unravel the twists to give me some sort of jazzy hairstyle, because I was getting fed up of the frizz/twists/etc. I spritzed it with water to dampen it and then haphazardly pinned the twists in random directions all over my head so that they were stretched.
You know what? It bleeding hurt. After about an hour, I got a headache and had to take the blasted bobby pins out.
Then I put my shower cap on for the night and they'd shrunk. Again.
Totally great excuse for a great twistout...
Ah well. I ended up putting it into a ponytail anyway.
My problem wasn't so much what was happening at night, but what was happening during the day - it was deliciously hot last week. I delighted in it. My skin delighted in it.
But my hair wept. It was. Not good.
The shower cap situation wasn't doing much except to make me feel quite hot during the night (and nobody really needs that, eesssh!).
So I rummaged in my cardboard box of stuff, digging for the treasure that is my bottle of castor oil.
I poured some into some molten coconut oil (and then recoiled sharply at the smell, because phew-ee, 3 months of distance did not make the nasal glands get any fonder of castor oil's whiff).
Slicked it on my head, sprayed on some water, and then let it be.
That was Tuesday.
It's Monday today and I did it again after my Saturday wash and my hair is still singing.
No, wait. It's dancing.
Not just normal two-stepping though. Full on happy booty dancing.
And it's cheap. So cheap! And it works so well! I can't imagine slathering it on by itself - images of slicking smelly treacle onto my head come to mind - but diluting it with coconut oil seems to work so well.
The next day, my hair still felt good, despite facing off the heat in a room where the temperature seemed ever increasing and focused directly on my neck.
I decided to be a little exciting when I got back and attempt to unravel the twists to give me some sort of jazzy hairstyle, because I was getting fed up of the frizz/twists/etc. I spritzed it with water to dampen it and then haphazardly pinned the twists in random directions all over my head so that they were stretched.
You know what? It bleeding hurt. After about an hour, I got a headache and had to take the blasted bobby pins out.
All sixty billion of them.
And the stretching worked!
Then I put my shower cap on for the night and they'd shrunk. Again.
Totally great excuse for a great twistout...
With sucky ends...
And a dodgy side of fluff!
Ah well. I ended up putting it into a ponytail anyway.
Friday, 25 May 2012
Sweet Delayed Gratification
Let's go back in time a little. The year is nineteen ninety something.
The Rebel Sis and I are in the car most probably, on our way home from a birthday party. In our hot little hands, we both clutch our own respective party bags; carefully surveying the booty within the flimsy plastic sacks. The Rebel Sis reaches in and pulls out one of the sweets in it's brightly coloured wrapping.
"Wicked!"* she says and rips the wrapper off, before shoving the sugary treat in her mouth. This pattern continues for a while - she chews, gulps and slurps her way through the entirety of her party bag in less than half an hour, including the delightfully squished cake in the bottom.
She turns to me, still licking the icing off her fingers. "Aren't you going to eat yours now?"
I clutch my bag closer to me with all the anxiety suitable to the elderly young pensioner I was always meant to be.
"No."
She looks at me, perplexed. "Why not?"
"I don't want to!"
"If you're not going to eat it, you may as well give it to me." She stretches out her hand. Since this proposal makes less sense to me than most things, I respond only by cutting my eyes at her and kissing my teeth in irritation.
My dad turns around: "Whose hissing?!" I shrink into the chair, while the Rebel Sis gleefully takes the opportunity to dob me in.
That one party bag could last me up to a month. The cake would have to be eaten pretty soon, to avoid it going stale. On days when I felt like it, I would take one of the sweets to school, as a status booster in the lunch hall. On down days, I'd escape and either run my fingers over the wrapping paper, break one open and savour every. single. bite. I prolonged the heck out of the satisfaction most kid's normally get from party bags (though I had to hide mine, since the Rebel Sis would literally just take it if she found it).
I genuinely didn't understand why the Rebel Sis would want to have it all at once - how could she possibly enjoy it?
Today, the picture hasn't changed much. I'm an obsessive saver still. The way I see it, the dreams I can achieve by putting towards the future are far bigger that what I can do with what I have right now.
The Rebel Sis does not agree with this sentiment. Her first Christmas back home after uni, she returned with the announcement that she had bought an Xbox360, as well as a plethora of games to play on it (between 12-20 games in total). My eyes boggled. "Where'd you get the money for that?"
She shrugged. "My overdraft."
"How are you going to pay it back!?"
She gave me a bemused look. "I'll just sell it when I don't need it any more."
But she bought it new. So the price she'll be able to sell it for will be depreciated from the price she bought it for. Which means she won't cover her costs.
Which means that....that...
*sigh*
That I should keep my nose well out of my sister's financial business.
* Look, I've already mentioned it was the nineties, all right?
The Rebel Sis and I are in the car most probably, on our way home from a birthday party. In our hot little hands, we both clutch our own respective party bags; carefully surveying the booty within the flimsy plastic sacks. The Rebel Sis reaches in and pulls out one of the sweets in it's brightly coloured wrapping.
"Wicked!"* she says and rips the wrapper off, before shoving the sugary treat in her mouth. This pattern continues for a while - she chews, gulps and slurps her way through the entirety of her party bag in less than half an hour, including the delightfully squished cake in the bottom.
She turns to me, still licking the icing off her fingers. "Aren't you going to eat yours now?"
I clutch my bag closer to me with all the anxiety suitable to the elderly young pensioner I was always meant to be.
"No."
She looks at me, perplexed. "Why not?"
"I don't want to!"
"If you're not going to eat it, you may as well give it to me." She stretches out her hand. Since this proposal makes less sense to me than most things, I respond only by cutting my eyes at her and kissing my teeth in irritation.
My dad turns around: "Whose hissing?!" I shrink into the chair, while the Rebel Sis gleefully takes the opportunity to dob me in.
That one party bag could last me up to a month. The cake would have to be eaten pretty soon, to avoid it going stale. On days when I felt like it, I would take one of the sweets to school, as a status booster in the lunch hall. On down days, I'd escape and either run my fingers over the wrapping paper, break one open and savour every. single. bite. I prolonged the heck out of the satisfaction most kid's normally get from party bags (though I had to hide mine, since the Rebel Sis would literally just take it if she found it).
I genuinely didn't understand why the Rebel Sis would want to have it all at once - how could she possibly enjoy it?
Today, the picture hasn't changed much. I'm an obsessive saver still. The way I see it, the dreams I can achieve by putting towards the future are far bigger that what I can do with what I have right now.
Why have something puny today when tomorrow I can get something magnificent?
The Rebel Sis does not agree with this sentiment. Her first Christmas back home after uni, she returned with the announcement that she had bought an Xbox360, as well as a plethora of games to play on it (between 12-20 games in total). My eyes boggled. "Where'd you get the money for that?"
She shrugged. "My overdraft."
"How are you going to pay it back!?"
She gave me a bemused look. "I'll just sell it when I don't need it any more."
But she bought it new. So the price she'll be able to sell it for will be depreciated from the price she bought it for. Which means she won't cover her costs.
Which means that....that...
*sigh*
That I should keep my nose well out of my sister's financial business.
* Look, I've already mentioned it was the nineties, all right?
Wednesday, 23 May 2012
Nigerian Bento
Hello happiness! ^_^
Spicy Peanut Chicken on a bed of spinach...fried plantain...and jollof rice.
Oh, yum.
Monday, 21 May 2012
Oops, I did it again...
Remember this?
You know, doing half of my twists, and then leaving it for two days, and then pretending it was a hairstyle and that I totally meant for it to look that way?
Yeah, it happened again.
'Cept this time, I left it 5 days before I finished it. So half of my twists are 1 week older than the others.
You can't tell - they're all fuzzy as anything ^_^
I did them with a tisane of lavender and catnip before using coconut oil as a styler. Squidgy, soft hair. My hair took it all up incredibly fast.
Later on, I somehow found myself left alone with my hair shears....
Despite the fact I think I semi-promised I would give up my random, intermittent snipping.
Some would say that I'm regressing, but you know what?
I regret nothing!
You know, doing half of my twists, and then leaving it for two days, and then pretending it was a hairstyle and that I totally meant for it to look that way?
Yeah, it happened again.
You can't tell - they're all fuzzy as anything ^_^
I did them with a tisane of lavender and catnip before using coconut oil as a styler. Squidgy, soft hair. My hair took it all up incredibly fast.
Later on, I somehow found myself left alone with my hair shears....
Despite the fact I think I semi-promised I would give up my random, intermittent snipping.
Some would say that I'm regressing, but you know what?
I regret nothing!
Friday, 18 May 2012
Super(market) Adventures
"What?" I asked, since my house sister had suddenly burst out laughing.
She spun her laptop around for me to take a look. "Conveyor Belt Tetris!" she exclaimed.
I raised an eyebrow. She went on to explain, "It's when you try and arrange all your shopping in neat blocks, like in Tetris!"
So of course, I had to give it a try.
She spun her laptop around for me to take a look. "Conveyor Belt Tetris!" she exclaimed.
I raised an eyebrow. She went on to explain, "It's when you try and arrange all your shopping in neat blocks, like in Tetris!"
So of course, I had to give it a try.
I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for those pesky apples!
Though this means that buying rolls of biscuits now becomes a necessity...
(If you've ever played Tetris and waited agonisingly long for the long straight piece, you know what I'm talking about).
So if you were that person in the supermarket...
That looked at my artistic Tetris based efforts...
And gave me a funny look...
I just want to say....
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