Thursday, June 24, 2010

the EX factor

I was talking to a good friend the other day about how certain cars, because they were driven by our ex-boyfriends/lovers/crushes still stand out in the mind. It is interesting how a car becomes a symbol of our presence in a certain place, or can jolt a memory into our head faster than you can say Honda Civic Hatchback.
The first car that I was obsessively spotting around the high school parking lot was a midnight black soft top Jeep with custom gigantic wheels. If that wasn't enough to solidify it's presence amongst the other cars, it also had a unique and distinctive read view mirror that sported spikes. Yikes. My heart would flutter as I pulled into the parking lot and saw that symbol of the heart throb badass. Another high school crush car that still makes me laugh at my ridiculousness and poor self esteem is a Chevy Blazer. Holy crap, my insecurities got the best of me when the car owner and I decided to trade cars for a day and I was so nervous that I couldn't even get his keys to open the door. Im still surprised my face did not fall off, I was so embarrassed.
With my first boyfriend came the SUBARU experience. I had little knowledge ( and interest) in learning about cars at that time, but by the end of the relationship I could tell you the differences in performance power between the STI and the WRX models. STI being clearly the superior. Driving that car was also a pretty cool experience because those who knew anything about cars and saw me step out of it has a sudden appreciation for "my" car choice.
Since then the parking space outside my home had been filled with a variety of other car brands. The beat up gold Toyota still has a special place in my drive way because of the endless miles it drove back and forth from Tucson and how easy it was to fog up the the windows on a cold November day. After that breakup the sight of that 98 rear end would bring tears to my eyes for months. Also on the honorable mention list, a french car in which we spun around the Arc de Triumph, Maria and I clinging to each other for dear life.
Most recently there was a been a Ford that drew my attention. I dont know the model or year but the out of state license plate and especially the bumpy looking back have now made it possible for me to spot it's sublings without a second thought.
Thank you cars for being random reminders of good times, awkward moments (my fave) and also giving me a heads up so I can duck out of the way if the person who owns the car is someone I do not wish to ever speak to again.
Another topic that I want to write about but do not have the time would have to be an extension of Jessica's post about ex-boyfriends and music. The friends that we attain while being involved with someone sometimes end up being better for us than the relationship itself. :)

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Are you afraid to die?

I believe the old addage goes a little like this: there are only two guarantees in life- death and taxes.

Being that up to this point I have managed to escape paying taxes {(wooo for being a full time student and a full time employee, ASU was good for something...) and even had my mom's HELP in doing most of them, lets be real- I just sat there and nodded as she explained it and then she ended up doing them mostly herself anyway(shit, im more wordy than normal today} I now come to expect that death is the only sure truth in this crazy ass world we live in. That being said, how do ya'll feel about it?

A friend and I had a really amazing conversation a few months back about the millions of outlooks one can pick to use when contemplating life. Factors such as religion, upbringing, motivation, personality all came up as valid components...and then I mentioned death. What role does death play in this whole LIFE thing you may ask. It is the end of all the fun, the final curtain call, el fin. Scary right? Contemplating this over in my half shaved head I really enjoy hearing how a person views death because I can infer a lot about them through their thought process. I mean, personally, I don't really have a problem with it because lets face it people, it is the one thing that will for sure happen to each and every one of us and our loved ones. That is not to say that it is not a sad event or one that should be avoided (wear your seatbelt) but even if the even that causes the death is surprising, the idea of death should certainly not be.

My dear friend Jeremy and I started this "game" that I also ask people to play with me when I am trying to understand their "essence" and to this date it has spawned really creative and telling results. You set this up for someone, and let them at it "Imagine that a picture was taken of you at any point in your life that captures you at your most shining moment, in a sense it captures your essense/soul/personality at a point in your life you feel the most "you"...explain what i would see in that picture" sometimes it take a little prying and prodding to get the person to respond but many have surprised themselves and me with their answers. Here is a sample of real answers:
- walking into the house from a day of being a doctor to an excited bundle of children and wife to have a family dinner
-standing on top of a Mexican Indian ruin with mom, doing the rocky pose
-a three pact picture of wild youth, laughing with family, and then an adventurous retirement
-nothing (we are working on this one...)
-watching with spouse as the youngest child graduates college
Here is mine: I am walking through the bazar in Morocco, holding my youngest baby in my right hand, with my left I am holding on to my second youngest and pointing things out at the same time, there are two others running ahead and laughing. There is a certain radient glow from the sun that makes our various skin colors extra tan and a flirtacious warm breeze ruffles my long flowy dress and tangles the different textures of hair the group provides. We are walking along and enjoying the day and window shopping, not purchasing anything, just admiring the various gadgets, fruits and tapestries on sale. Surprise twist: there is no man walking with me in the picture.hmm

So I think the next game I will play will be asking people- "What are your thoughts on death?" I hope to again gain deeper knowledge about the characters around me as they answer this question. I already know my answer, but don't want to give it away quite yet. :)

Friday, June 4, 2010

The hair that is here.

It is a peculiar thing, a girl's hair. Many of us swear by a shampoo, are mortifyingly loyal to our stylists and have developed a daily routine that includes elaborate styling equipment as well as many cute jars of product. So it is no surprise that the way hair looks can tell you a lot about the girl sporting it. For a long time I had little choice about how my hair looked. My mom would just braid it and send me off to school. I would get one haircut a year, which basically consisted of my mom taking a pair of scissors and snipping off half of the braid. Lovely.
At fifteen I was able to get my first professional haircut. I made up for lost time by charging up 150 dollars worth of highlights, the cut and deep conditioning. That was the end of my professional haircuts for a while and I resorted to my beloved Colorsilk hair dye for 2.99 at Target. It was a lovely, changing my appearance on a monthly basis just by plopping on a little dye and waiting 30 minutes. I began to experiment with different colors and my long red locks became somewhat of a trademark, an illustration of my personality.
The length of hair is also a telling factor, long hair is representative of beauty while short hair gives the girl a little extra sass. I have for too long subscribed to the idea that in order to look my best, be the most attractive I have to sport a long thick mane of multi-tonal hair. Short hair is cute, fun for the summer, but every girl covets the look of long long locks being splashed back from her face by the playful summer wind. The internalization of such standards of beauty is what caused me to be mortified and balling my hands into fists of rage when an ex-boyfriend accidentally cut my hair to a painfully short length. It was even with my ears, and highly unattractive as far as I was concerned. I hate to put it in writing but the real reason that I was so aghast when I saw the damage was that I had a picture perfect scenario, a wedding scene, in which i come down from a balcony with lusciously wavy strands of hair flowing far down my back. That insane picture, the image of my assumed "wedding perfection bliss" was no longer possible for many years after that hair cut. It upset me so much for some reason that if I had wanted to, I would not be able to get married in that way for at least 4 years. I had lost hope of being a perfect and beautiful bride.
So recently, I have been thinking about my hair and how it portrays me as a person. Incidentally, my hair was finally at a length where it could be manipulated back into that picture of wedding perfection. However, as my hair had grown out during the last 4 years, I had also outgrown that idea of perfection. Thankfully I no longer let hair length for a phantom future wedding dictate the choices I make with it now. It seems almost laughable that I was planning out my wedding hair instead of planning out my next 5 years in terms of career, location and financial stability. But that is how young and naive I was in college. What mattered then- friends, fun, freedom are still valued today, but the basis for their quantifiable measurement has changed drastically. I measure quality of friendships by how much they push me to grow as a person and how much they inspire me to be more than I am today. Fun can mean partying, but it can also mean painting together, cooking dinner, taking a walk, more wholesome things. Freedom- well, instead of wanting to rebel and fight off every piece of advice from parents I seek it and listen thoroughly, realizing the value behind the words of wisdom and travel, true world travel is now the epitome of a freeing experience.
But I digress, back to hair, before my recent haircut I was contemplating shaving a part of my head. I had toyed with the idea for a few months before truly settling on the idea. After all, when else in life will I be able to sport a half-shaved head. Why wait when you can do it now. Respice Finem, live in the moment. So I tossed all hesitation and doubt aside in the same corner that I threw away my traditional concepts of beauty and went for it. I LOVE it. It was such a liberating experience, the feel of freshly buzzed hair, looking at the incredibly long strands that littered the floor like wounded battle soldiers and seeing myself in a new and more exposed light was thrilling. I could not help but think of that wedding hair image that I had in my mind, it will take many years now to achieve that look. That is probably a good thing. If I let go of those expectations, the need to find someone, the need to settle, the need to conform to the average, the standards no longer apply to me. I am now free.
The repercussions of the haircut- well, I scared some of my students. Some probably think that I am a lesbian, and many told me it looked strange and ugly. Had I been any less confident in my choice I would have taken their comments to heart. But I realize that my new haircut just rocked their perception of male and female stereotypes. I can't wait to see what my mom thinks of it. All in all, I am very happy with the decision, infact, I want more cut off. It is a adrenaline rush to hear those buzzing clippers coming at me, knowing that whatever I look like will not change who I am a person. The outside me may look different, and perhaps be treated differently to a degree, but as a new chapter in my life begins I am excited to show a new face to the world.