self-actualizing my appearance

I am thinking about some things right now.

1. It's very warm in here.
2. There is junk all over my desk.
3. There are pink jelly bellies in my desk, which I am avoiding.
4. I'm tired of not presenting myself to my best potential.

I've been thinking about #4 a lot lately, as I buzz to work every morning at 8AM, having usually rolled out of bed anywhere between 7:29 -7:46. Obviously, this doesn't leave very much time for me to put on nice clothes or do my hair or achieve much making up beyond a swipe or two of mascara when I'm stopped at the light by Riverwoods.

(Sometimes I can't do more than wipe the remnants of last night's show makeup from my eyelids and hope the remaining eyelash glue can somehow pass as "full lashes"-- you're welcome, world!)

This is a problem.

I've frequently been surprised over the years by how my outside doesn't match my inside. That is, sometimes when I pass by a mirror or see myself in a photo, I'm surprised by how I look. I feel like I look a certain way, only to discover that I actually look another. It's not necessarily a bad thing, it's just always kind of curious to me. This has been the case especially lately when I barely manage a half-baked attempt to match the feel with the look-- obviously, the disconnect isn't a surprise at all in these cases, though it's no less disappointing.

I have all these dreams and intentions of really embracing my look and self-actualizing but at the crack of 7AM, I just really like to sleep, is all. To get up an hour earlier doesn't seem like it would be a big deal, but somehow it is. I can't get past it. I'm starting to worry that my outer appearance (or, at least, my perception of it) is an indication of how I feel about my inner self, which makes me wildly uneasy.

The truth is that I actually like myself. I think I am pretty neat. I think I have some cool physical features to compliment my inner features. The only thing holding me back is me.

I read this really lovely blog as recommended by my friend Heidi that provides all kinds of juicy tid-bits about stars from the Golden Age of Hollywood, and in this recent post about Joan Crawford, she talks about the "persona" of Joan Crawford.

"I think the public comes to dream, to identify with me, especially in my early pictures...even when I just walk out of my building, I feel like I owe it to the doorman that I look like Joan Crawford. I overheard him once talking to another doorman and he said with pride, 'Joan Crawford lives in my building.' So, if I can't look like Joan Crawford, I don't go out. If anyone sees me, it's important they see Joan Crawford. That's why I dress up, even to throw out the garbage."

Now I understand it would be terribly easy to take this out of context and to the extreme. I don't pretend to be-- or need or want to be!-- so concerned with how I look that I can't take out the garbage without looking like (and therefore feeling like) myself (I usually let Ames take out the garbage anyway-- wocka wocka!). But I think it is an important trait to consider. The way you take care of yourself is an indication of who you are. People come to expect certain things about a person based on how they take care of themselves-- that is just a fact. There are dozens of reality shows based on this very concept. Though I'm no Joan Crawford, don't I owe it to myself to project on the outside who I am on the inside?

I think the most perfect current example of this idea is Kate Middleton. I think she is perfection. There are very few who feel like the is anything short of perfection. And you know, whether or not Kate herself regards herself as perfection, her (perfect) appearance projects the image of who she is and the station she has inherited for herself. Even grocery shopping in jeans, she's put together, her hair is done (when was the last time she has been seen in a messy ponytail or bun? Ever???), and she is neat. She clearly projects the idea that she respects herself and her title and her family and her responsibility.

So what is it about me that can't drag myself out of bed 10 minutes earlier to have enough time to even blow dry my hair nicely? I'm no duchess, but I am capable of respecting myself a little more than to resort to sloppy hair and yesterday's eye makeup.

Right?

I'm having my hair done on Friday. It will be a rather drastic change, and I'm excited. I'm also hoping it will be a kick-start in appreciating and taking care of the hair I will spend some nice money to have done, which I'm hoping will have a domino effect.

I'm also considering another Clean Sweep of my closet to really purge the clothes I don't/shouldn't wear and make room for new things-- things I like, that are flattering, and that will project an image of confidence.

AND I'm going to pull out that lipstick more frequently. Again. Because there's just something about the expectation of wearing lipstick that forces a person to get ready in the morning, am I right?



In the meantime, any tips for turning this snacking night-owl who hates to have wet hair into an early rising, clean-haired, exercise-before-work goddess?

theens

Oh hey, blog. I've neglected you. Aside from meandering through a congested steam of consciousness (PS. it turned out to be a pretty nasty sinus infection, with subsequent "Restricted Airway Disease," not just a run-of-the-mill cold. Go figs.) and a(nother) daily affirmation regarding happiness and appreciating the little things in life, I've been pretty remiss.

Example of such:

I never introduced the new addition to our family.

She is a rescue cat from the same organization where we found Trevor and she is 8 years old. Her name is Lucille 2 because I love Liza Minnelli, one of the dogs upstairs is already named Lucy, and she has red hair like Lucille Ball which sounds an awful lot like Lucille Bell, which is hilarious. Lucille 2 is rather terrible and is very good at teasing and chasing Trevor. He tends to sequester himself in a Fortress of Solitude in the backroom, since she doesn't jump up on things very much. He also likes to hide on the window sill.

Trevor is the best hider. (No he isn't.)

Lucille 2 also happens to be a naughty pee-pee cat. This is something I don't know how to handle. Any ideas on how we can get her to stop peeing on, say, the dirty laundry sitting in laundry baskets 1.5 feet away from her own litter box? Any advice is quite appreciated.

I've also finally joined the world of Pinterest. So far I mostly focus on cool clothes, cool house decorating, and cool ideas for the cool party I'm going to have for my cool 25th birthday in September. Pinterest makes me feel desperately cool (even though it feels like basically the same 37 photos are just being passed around) so CLICKY-CLICKY and let's be Pinterest friends!

Also, Ames and I got to channel our inner future Disney employees in the Provo Freedom Festival parade last week. It definitely made a part of my lifetime complete.

Also also, we've been making drastic improvements to our little basement apartment house. We have aqua colored walls in our living room, guys. HOW RAD ARE WE???

Also also also, I officially started my Couch to 5k program last night. In nine weeks, I hope to become a runner. I'm always impressed with people who run, and I want to be one of those people. I also want/need to be skinny so, that's good motivation too. Has anyone else done/had success with a C25K?

How's summer treating you?

bright and shiny

I am happy again today.

I'm not sure if it's the new Sharpie pens that write perfectly and make my handwriting look cool, or the whole pound of pink beans (tutti-frutti jelly bellies) I got, or the sushi from last night, or my aqua living room, or having everyone tell me I look skinny even though I've actually gained weight, or reading my own tweets from the last year all morning, or the rain last night, or feeling so good about myself lately, or having the cutest cats in the world. I think it's all of those things.

Whatever it is, I'm happy again today.

Actually, I've been happy every day since last Wednesday evening. That's one whole entire week of straight-up Happy.

I think it must be a little strange that I'm so marveled about being happy for a week. Happy shouldn't be something so awesome that I feel compelled to remark "I am happy again today." Happy should be a given, shouldn't it? It absolutely should be. I'd be sad that it's not always a given, but to be sad mean being un-happy and I can't be that right now, please and thank you. I'm too busy being happy.

It turns out the congestion from my previous post was actually a pretty nasty sinus infection with subsequent "Restrictive Airway Disease." Doesn't that sound dire? It was, actually, only now I'm taking antibiotics and I feel so refreshed about life. Probably because I can breathe. I'm sure there's a lot of psychology behind the all the oxygen flowing to my brain, aside from the basic anatomy of it.

Also, I'm eating the greatest customized salad from that place Marley's in the Riverwoods and I'm seriously having a come-apart about how delicious it is. I'm eating it as if I've never eaten a salad before-- as if I've never eaten at all before.

Somehow, all good things in my life manage to conclude with food.