I guess I am a keeper.

Ok, so I’ve been very busy and not being able to update on fun things, like my container garden, which has taken over, my crochet, which I’ve been too busy for, or any of my other fun hobbies. And there is a good reason. I am engaged. Yep, you read it right, kids. A very nice boy put a ring on my finger. I am super excited and a little stressed out but it is totally going to be worth it. I have to move from my beloved little apartment, pack up the greyhound and the cat, and go 40 minutes away to a new town. In the coming months, thank God, not tomorrow. So, I’m stressed, just a little. There are no concrete plans and hell no is this going to turn into some dumbass wedding blog. I am not that kind of girl. So, forgive me for being a little on and off every now and again. I will take some photos of my garden tonight and update you on that. My worm compost is processing and I have baby worms in all sorts of places. Soap making has kind of been put on hold as well as other projects and I have to work (gotta be able to afford gin!) and make the rounds and be embarrassed as people fawn all over the fact that I met a nice boy, he met me and we work hard to keep each other happy and have decided to make it official. So I am busy. But very happy.

Have a good day, everyone!
xxxlorrainesilveria

Thank you for working hard for less money. Your reward is crappy food.

At work, we got audited. This is done yearly by the bank to ensure we are all being proper little drones and not like, oh, stealing money and leaving the vault open.

Well, the branch I work at got 100%. Which is apparently unheard of. Completely unheard of. We followed procedure, kept drawers, vaults, computers, everything locked and shut. Go team bank!

So, we are to be rewarded. Ahhhh, what? You mean my job is going to pretend it appreciates me? My, God. I didn’t even know what to think. Maybe a raise? We haven’t gotten one in three years. An extra day off with pay? A small bonus? A longer lunch break? No, no dear friends. We got crappy fast food. Oh, thanks. Just what I don’t want. At least it wasn’t pizza, but it was barely a step above that. Yesterday I made home made ciabatta bread, a broccoli salad and chicken noodle soup from scratch and the fucking bank thinks I am fucking going to be tickled by buying me shitty ass processed poop food. They spent a whole, what, maybe 8 bucks a person? I feel so fucking special I am going to write a fucking poem. Our branch consists of 6 people, by the way, so it’s not like the dropped a hundred bucks on us. I bet it wasn’t even fifty.

Ugh. Work, I hate you. If you didn’t pay my bills enough that I don’t starve to death and the economy was better I would tell you to shove this job and fast food so far up your ass you could chew on it.

Picture of my no ‘poo coffee dyed hair…

And there you are. Please keep in mind I am naturally blonde. The wine did not seem to do anything but oh well! The coffee is definately working though. Yey!

I hope at least my hair is getting drunk.

Ok. So my new awesome batshit crazy idea is to mix red wine (some cheapo jug wine I got and drank most of) and the coffee grounds left over from this morning (and steeped while I was at work) and put that in my hair. I am hoping the coffee will continue to darken my hair and that the wine will add a hint of red. So, yet again, I am sitting around with a bag on my head. Wish me luck!

Coffee as Hair Dye?

So, as you may or may not be aware I am trying to grow out my hair to my natural color. Which is a problem, as I am naturally strawberry blonde and my hair dye of choice was black. Ok, so I loved the black. It looked awesome, but it got boring, because after you go black, well, you know the saying. There is no getting black out of your hair without some major, major hair damage. Also, my hair is super long right now and I love the length. And, also, I have gone no poo, meaning I am not using shampoo. So, clearly, we have issues.

Well this was (is?) the plan. I dyed my roots brown to blend in with the black, which has worked pretty well. It looks like highlights and the black has faded a bit anyway. So, as it was blending nicely (believe it or not) I decided to call it and stop dyeing my hair.

Uh, anyone else realize that wasn’t going to work out great? Ugh. So the colors of the dye have obviously faded, leaving me with a really brassy almost greenish tint. Oh, gross. So I googled (my weapon of choice!) and discovered people dye their hair with coffee.

Here’s the scoop. You make some strong coffee, put it on your head by bowing over a bowl and let sit/process for an hour. According to sources, you will smell like coffee for three days and it fades quickly.

My method. I happen to have a french press coffee maker and a grinder for whole beans. So I ground down the beans to dust, dumped my head in a bowl and put a bag over the whole shebang, which made me look like Lady Gaga on an off day. Hottie! Then I let it sit for an hour.

And, by damn, it worked. No, it did not dye my hair, but stained it enough to take out the brassiness. Oh thank God! It blends much nicer. So, the “future plan” is as follows:

Every day I make coffee feel like it, save the grounds in the french press and let steep with fresh water while I am at work. Put this concoction into a bowl, dump on head, let sit and rinse. The hope is that this will stain my hair enough (it works on my teeth, ask my dentist, I am her money pit for cleanings) that my transition will not be so rough.

Oh and one other thing. Buy coconut oil and put just a wee bit in your hair. My hair is so baby soft and yet strong that I feel like I want to give everyone who has ever told me to buy fancy conditioners the finger. And I am talking about the ends of my hair. Baby. Freaking. Soft. Also put it on your nails. Trust me, ok?

xxxlorrainesilveria

The Internet.

Where have I been? Long story, I will tell you later. Mostly, I’m a slacker.

Onward…

1. You wanna go on the internet?

I no more want to watch someone on the internet than I want to be forced to read a newspaper over someone’s shoulder. Firstly, they are likely reading articles I don’t want to read or have little to no interest in. The internet is a buffet, not chef’s choice.

2. Let’s go on Facebook at the same time and write funny messages to each other and takes pictures that no one will think are cute but us.

I have friends on facebook that apparently do this all the time. You see them jerking off in comments to each other and postig duck faced pictures with a filter on their camera. More about this later.

3. Let’s take pictures of each other! (Or alone)

I fucking hate glamor shots. Firstly, I will admit, I am not photogenic. Camera comes out and I turn into a frowning angry horseface. That’s just me. You catch me unawares? I take fine pictures. Maybe I am just self concious. I don’t think I am a hideous beastie, but for some reason I can’t help but make a stupid fucking face every time I see a camera. Furthermore, dear ‘models’ when you take your glamor shots with the filter because now we are all fucking Ansel Adams with a sepia tone readily available, try smiling. Try not to look like you’re being assraped by a candle. And for the love of God, STOP THE DUCK FACE. Nothing screams “I have no real life and I hate myself” than a duck face. I am so sick of everyone thinking they are an amazing photographer because they use the “fishbowl” lens or a red filter. Photography is about light, not filters and effects. Here is an example.

This is my cat. Exactly as she is sitting. Now let’s throw a stupid filter on it.

ISN’T THAT DRAMATIC AND INTERESTING. It’s a cat ass. On an unmade bed. Because I just got up and was angry and wrote about how I hate photo filters and she decided to park on my lap.

Now here is the same cat, in the same position, because Lord knows she isn’t moving if there is a warm lap and this time I took 30 seconds to make it into a semi interesting picture (her face and some background) Not exactly award winning, but do you get my point? Try to focus on taking a good, interesting photo, rather than just slapping a filter on ever piece of shit you take.

4. I WAS HERE. YOU CAN TELL BECAUSE I TOOK 500000000 PICTURES AND POSTED EVERY ONE. SEE, I HAVE FUN. FUN. FUN. FUN!

I used to have a real problem with one of my gal pals. I called her the paparazzi. Every single time we went anywhere, she took about (no joke) 50 pictures randomly and posted them. In one, I was picking up a pen. In another, I was sneezing. This is the level of photographic genius. You can see why I had a problem. More recently, I have also had to discuss this with others. If you have a picture of me, I don’t give two shits what I look like if YOU like it, but don’t you fucking dare put it on the internet. That’s just rude.

5. You have to watch this YouTube video.

No, I don’t. Ok fine. Thank you. A kitten farting. My life has improved dramatically. Oh, you want my thoughts on it? Thank you for wasting 30 seconds of my time. Even worse are the longer “blog” type videos. Just because you think it is amazing, doesn’t mean you need to whip out your phone and make me watch it RIGHT NOW. So stop.

6. I have an opinion, but I spell like some shit.

Ok, I am sure I have about 5 spelling/grammar brain farts per entry. I’m sorry. However, I cannot deal with “omg duh war is wrong n stuff guys dis dope vid proves dat g bush is a terrorist vote 4 obama cos i spell lyke a horses asshole on meth”
You didn’t sway me there. Even if I agree with a commenter, I cannot take them seriously if they cannot make a MODERATE attempt to write in English.
Such as:
“I vote Libertarian because the goverment is too big.” Or…
“omg vote libertarian bc dey gov is 2 big”
I just gave myself a headache.

7. Inspirational Quotes.
Need I go on? The whole “real woman” “real man” “kiss the dawn like it’s your last” fucking bullshit makes me sick. I make more compelling and thoughtful fart noises with my armpit.

Anyway, that’s my story. I hate the internet. Well, not really. But I do hate morons.

I Ate Cake. And Now I Feel Like Shit. Big Surpise.

Let’s quick go over my sugar intake. About zero. I am not a sugar fan. And there is a perfectly legitimate reason. My mother was a type one diabetic. Which is the one when your a kid and your pancreas craps out. Not diet related. So, she took insulin and sometimes her sugar would drop and she would need sugar, like now. Or she’d hit the floor. So, imagine little me, watching my mother get loopy and then have to eat candy or take some sugar. Scared the pants off of me and put an absolute abhorence of candy in me. Candy brings completely unpleasant feelings in me. I think it is absolutely disgusting. For obvious reason.

Flash forward. So I never really ate sugar or candy. And a few years ago I went on the super healthy eating. Veggies, fruit, lean meat, etc. So I probably eat about zero sugar, or that corn syrup crap. Like, I go as far as to make my own bread to avoid it. Well yesterday was Easter. And I was not sober and ate cake. Not just cake, the cake-that-looks-fake with the waxy frosting and just fucking gross. And I ate a piece because I was too embarrassed, after taking a piece, to throw it away. Holy poop. Did I pay for it. After about 10 minutes my guts felt like they were making a candle, I was jittery and nervous and felt horrible. Just horrible. I started chugging water. I actually had to lay down. Seriously, it was worse than having the runs, because at least then you are getting rid of it. I went home and went right to bed, chugged more water and felt so sick. Now it’s morning. I still feel horrible. My stomach feels like it’s full of rocks. I’m still jittery.

And I know it’s the sugar. I once was given a hot white chocolate from a coworker from a fancy store. I couldn’t refuse the gift, but it took me all day to choke it down and I had the same symptoms. I felt awful. I just wanted to lay down and make it go away.

So what the fuck do I do? Does this mean I refuse all sugar items? How embarassing. “Happy Birthday. Fuck your cake.” I just don’t know what to do and when I tell people, they look at me like I am fucking crazy. “You can’t eat sugar? It makes you sick?!? What the fuck kind of hippie weirdo are you?!?” They act like I am a crazy health nut. Ok, I kind of am, but I don’t advertise it. I don’t tell people I bake bread to avoid additives and milk almonds because almond milk from the store tastes like chemicals to me. It’s weird, I know. I don’t know what to do. And I feel like poop. Not a good morning.