Bad Hair. Bad, Bad Hair.

So I went to get a cut and color today. I should have stayed home. I went to my regular guy, who's usually amazing. But I've never gotten my hair colored before, just permed, so I really didn't know what to expect. I decided to go with highlights instead of full color. He asked me what I wanted - I told him, no blonde, please. I think it looks tacky when you've got a dark brown shag with blonde highlights. And way too many people do that. That's my personal opinion. I don't judge you brown-haired, blonde-highlighted gals out there. He said red or caramel highlights would look great, and we opted for the caramel. I desperately wish I had gone with the red now. I'm sure it would have looked so much better. But what's done is done. Now I have caramel highlights that don't really look caramel-ish at all. They look blonde. A dirty blonde. A stripper blonde. And I want to scream and pull out my hair. I love the cut - the haircut is beyond adorable, but the color? ARGH!!!!! I spent $200 on the cut, color, and a cut for my sister, plus tip and some shampoo.... so I'm not going back there until I absolutely have to. So blonde highlights it is for 2 more months. ARGH! ARGH! ARGH!!! GAH!!!
But I won't kill my lovely hairdresser - he tried his best, and everyone said it looked so cute, but they're all employees, so I say they HAVE to say it looks cute. GARGH!!! Blah. Red highlights for me in 2 months.

The Obligatory Christmas Posting

Okay, so I couldn't really think of something deep and profound to say on Christmas Eve, so..... I'll talk about my favorite movies of this year. The year's practically over, so I'll call it the Top 10 Films of the Year. It is possible I may miss a movie or two, since I'm doing this by memory, so I encourage you all to share too. These movies aren't really in any order, since my love of each increases or decreases depending on my movie mood.

Ratatouille: A rat, that cooks? Food that looks so delectable that I collected drool in my theatre soda cup? Yep, at the top of my list.

Death At A Funeral: Pure British Gold. You want a movie that makes you pee your pants non-stop throughout the film? This is it.

300: THIS IS...SPARTA! Tee hee hee... Nearly naked men, bloodshed galore, Rodrigo Santoro (even if he does look a little cheesy).... geez, it even got MY testosterone pumping.

No Country For Old Men: You want a disturbing movie? You want a movie that practically at the beginning makes you think, "Oh, the good guy is totally f*cked." This is it. It'll haunt you for days.

Juno: Morbidly funny flick that had me crying half the time. It's special.

Shoot 'Em Up: Having a guy have sex with stunning Monica Bellucci while shooting a bunch of goons after him? That's called Not Taking Yourself Seriously. And that's what makes this flick so much fun.

Death Proof: You know, I have to admit I'm just not a fan of Quentin Tarantino. I don't see anything interesting in most of his work. And I usually don't get why people say he's a freakin' genius. But Death Proof? Death Proof was great. But then, when you have a bunch of sexy girls beating the crap out of a middle-aged creep, you've got my respect there.

28 Weeks Later: I love zombies and vampires, but it's so rare to come across an actually decent flick featuring either. 28 Weeks Later is more than a decent flick, and it's just as enjoyable as the first. Zombies kick ass!

The Bourne Ultimatum: The Bourne Identity was all right. The Bourne Supremacy was a little less than all right. The Bourne Ultimatum... well, it was a LOT more than all right.

The Mist: Creepy S**t. And I'm not talking about the monsters. I'm talking about the crazy-psycho-killer people. And the end? Wow. Just, wow.

There were a few others that I did enjoy, but not enough to post on the Top 10 list, so sorry movies. You entertained me, but I shall not honor you. Or promote you. For now.

And now I shall leave you with a Merry Christmas to all, especially Tam, Cinnkitty, Jessie, Karly, Sue, and Pinkbowshoe.

And I shall go remove Celeste from the potty pads. She somehow believes that lying on top of them is comfortable. Thank God I just replaced them and there's no actual potty on them. Stupid dog.

Tewtally Exhausted

And yes, I know I spelled totally wrong. I just sounds cuter as "tewtally". Anyway, for the past two weeks, especially the last week, I've been getting probably no more than 5 hours of sleep at one time, which has completely messed up my system. I'm already feeling ill because I've decided to stop taking happy pills, and have been in the process of weaning myself off them. On a regular day, I have tons of headaches, can't move without getting a major dizzy spell, feel utterly exhausted, can't concentrate AT ALL (seriously, I can't - it's horrible), get antsy, feel like throttling someone.... yeah, it's pretty bad. And this is weaning myself off it just like the doctor recommended. This is NOT going cold turkey - which thank God, I haven't done, since I don't even want to imagine how bad I'd feel. If you're wondering why I'm on the pills and/or why I'm getting off them, well, I'll tell you - I had a bad time about two years ago that interfered with my schoolwork. My grandpa had just died, I was having major problems with the folks, I got into a car crash, someone broke into my car and robbed me, I was beyond stressed out with school... all this and more made me have a mini breakdown, and the Dean practically told me either I'd have to get on meds or she'd make sure I'd never pass the bar. And since I've already poured thousands and thousands of dollars of debt into this endeavour, I wasn't quitting now. So I obeyed - I went to a therapist and got myself drugged. It wasn't too high of a dose, I believe, but I guess it helped somewhat. I had these anxiety spells where I couldn't sleep because all I could do was think of every bad thing that I'd done, might do, had happened to me, might happen to me... it took hours to fall asleep, even with prescribed sleep medication. I was a bit of a wreck for a while. But then I decided that I needed to take control of things, and not try to just cope by drugging myself to forget things. So I took some necessary steps, and now I feel a lot better. Sure, I'm not where I want to be yet - but I'm really trying to get used to the fact that some people are never going to change, so either I suck it up and deal with it, and don't let it hurt me, or I'll just stay depressed for the rest of my life. So that's one reason why I decided to go off happy pills - I'm in a better emotional position now, and I am the type of person that would rather not be on medication if it isn't ABSOLUTELY necessary. Another reason why I decided to go off the pills was because I've been gaining a ridiculous amount of weight. Back when I started about a year and a half ago, I weighed maybe 125/130 pounds, and I looked fine. I had just gotten back from a 4 month trip to Europe where I walked everywhere, everyday, and had shed a few pounds in the process. I liked how I looked. When I first started the medication, things were fine - I exercised regularly, ate well, and as a result, I was losing a few pounds. But then maybe 7/8 months into the medication, I ballooned up to 150 pounds in probably 2/3 months or so. I remember going on Christmas vacation and wearing these lovely gray jeans - one month later, when I tried them on, I couldn't even zip them up. It was insane. I've never in my entire life put on so much weight so quickly than I have this past year. And okay, I can deal with weight gain, as long as I know I can lose it by eating healthy and exercising. So I did both. All summer I went to the gym 2 hours a day, and ate 1200 calories of HEALTHY food every day. EVERY DAY. And do you think I lost weight? No. Not at all. Not ONE pound. And now I'm a size 14, up from a size 6 (well, pants, anyway. I have CURVES, people). That is just ridiculous. Seriously. So I gave up - you girls understand how depressing and hurtful to one's self esteem it is to gain weight. And then to try SO hard to lose it and not be able to? That just killed it. I felt like it was my fault - like I was a big fat pig that couldn't stop eating, when honestly I've always eaten the same amount and never had problems staying at the same weight. I was diagnosed with mild hypothyroidism early this year, so I thought that was the problem - I got on the meds, but I didn't see any difference, and my doctor eventually told me to stop taking them because my levels were back to normal and I certainly didn't want to become hyperthyroidic by continuing my medication. So it wasn't that. Then I started doing research on the happy pills I'm taking and I was flooded by stories of people who've been on it and have gained ridiculous amounts of weight - I'm taking about people who run marathons, who weighed 100 pounds and went to 190 in a few months. So that was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was fighting to get back a normal emotional state, and continually thinking I'm a fat ass isn't helping. So I'm off for good now. I just need to make sure to try extra hard at school so there's no need for the Dean to interfere again.
But anyway, that really wasn't what this post was going to be about. I was just going to complain about finals. Yeah, finals weren't very fun. Since I barely slept, I was exhausted AND couldn't concentrate, so taking a test with a time limit? Soooo not a good idea. But I did, and I was officially done by Tuesday at 4. Awesomeness. I don't feel relieved, but I think that's because it hasn't really kicked in yet that I can chill for the next 3 weeks. I've been really busy cleaning up my apartment for my parents' visit next week, and today I finally finished. I still need to get groceries and whatnot, but that's cool. I can do that. That's the easy part.
So now I'm going to head off and finish uploading some songs to my iPod and then go to sleep, since I'm really tired and I don't think I've caught up with all my missed sleep yet.
So Merry Christmas, ya'll, and I'll try to post something closer to Christmas. Toodles!

Another Pug Video

Okay, I admit defeat. I've recently discovered I can fix my pug videos, and I've been thoroughly entertaining myself. This is my most recent creation (with an old video) - and it must be seen with sound ON. P.S. I'd rather see this than the Mayweather vs. Hatton fight I saw a few days ago.

Pug Video: With Effects!

Pugs EVERYWHERE!

So I'm blissfully sleeping in today. I came in late yesterday night, since I went to the Timberwolves vs. Suns game (amazingly the Timberwolves won - my BF says they're rather horrid this year), and then we went to a friend's place to catch the Mayweather vs. Hatton boxing match. I'm not a fan of boxing AT ALL (it's such a bloodthirsty game - can't see how people take pleasure is seeing another person being hurt), but the BF loved it, and hey, it was short. So I went to sleep around 1ish. And when I go to sleep after midnight, I absolutely HAVE to sleep in, otherwise I will be a zombie for the next two days (yes, I'm an old lady. So sue me).

So like I said, I'm blissfully sleeping in. When I hear a loud crash against my bedroom door. Which is sufficient to wake me up and think for a second what could possibly have caused that noise. Then I hear growling pugs and figure, "They're playing rough today." Like they always do. But Babs usually tires out quickly and goes off to chew on his rawhide. Not today. Today they decided, "Hey, let's be SO loud and rough that Mommy can't go back to sleep! Yeah!" So I'd adjust my sleeping position, try to fall back asleep, and then...BANG! CRASH! KABLAM! KABOOM! GRRR! BAM! Then relative silence. I'd adjust, try to fall back asleep, then....BANG! DOUBLE KABLAM! CRASH! And repeat. Over and over and over again. So Mommy couldn't go back to sleep. So Mommy got up and showered, dressed, and ran off to her BF's house so she could nap in peace. Which she will do right after she's finished with this blog entry. Ciao!

I have become a pug...I mean, a bug.

I have an exoskeleton. And it's peeling. My skin is falling off! Falling, I say! Peeeeelliiinnnggg!!!

Okay, well, maybe just the skin on my tattoo area. I went from the very-tender-recently-tattooed skin to the scabby-skin-falling-off tattooed skin. Which I guess is good - it means I'm healing really quickly. But the downside is - I AM ITCHING SOOOOO BAD!!! Every time I touch my back, I can feel the scabs peeling off and all I want to do is rip them off and scratch like a maniac. But like every tattooed person knows, I....MUST...NOT....SCRATCH. Otherwise I risk damaging my tattoo. And I wouldn't want that. But I'm dying! I NEED to scratch, people! NEED IT! ARGH!

Okay, that's enough complaints for today. Toodles for now.

Tattoo: Day Two

I am utterly exhausted. My head feels like it was rolling and rocking and swinging like mad yesterday, and now it hurts just to move it. My whole back is sore, as are my arms and legs. Which is all rather confusing, because I just got my back tattooed - not my ENTIRE body. But I guess I may have traumatized myself more than I thought. I have been unsuccessfully trying to wake up - I've been up and about, but every time I sit down for a second, I fall asleep. So I'm seriously contemplating giving up and just sleeping for the rest of the day. I figure my body probably needs it anyway. Well, just updating you all - toodles for now!

Tattoo Picture: UPDATED

All right - still looks a little shiny from the camera flash, but you get a better idea. BTW, my skin is NOT that white - it's the camera flash.

Drumdroll, please!

I'm officially NOT a virgin anymore. A tattoo virgin, that is. I had my appointment moved up from the 9th to today, and at about 2:40 I received my first official tattoo.

Yay! Me excited!

So, for those of you curious about the procedure, I will let you know the gorey details. Mwahahahahaha.

So, I get there at 12 on the dot. Nervous - well, just a little. After reading tons and tons of stories from tattoo "survivors", I was pretty sure that I needed a few essentials - namely, a blankie, something to entertain me (in this case, a Zombie book), and some juice and snacks to keep me from fainting. And my credit card, of course.

My tattoo artist, David (who owns his own shop - Ink Lab), let me look over the drawing again and talked about the colors with me. Afterwards, he set up his workstation and brought me in. While pondering what comfy clothes to wear yesterday, I eventually came to the conclusion that I'd have to take my shirt off. Fortunately, I didn't have to - he just rolled it up and taped it. So I could preserve my dignity. Yay.

So far, I was feeling pretty good. A little nervous, but reading the book helped me chill out. And then..... I heard the buzzing of the tattoo gun. That's the part when my heart decided to pack its bags and jump out my mouth. But as soon as the gun turned off, I was back to "chill" mode.

Finally he gets ink on the gun and starts the first line. Wow. Just, wow. I mean, I won't say it didn't hurt - for a moment, I wondered if I could really take three hours of this, but as soon as he moved the gun away from my skin, the pain stopped instantly. The first few lines hurt, and the longer he kept the needles in my skin, the more it hurt - and just when I couldn't take any more, he'd stop and move on to another place. Soon, thankfully, my back sorta numbed and only a few lines really hurt. So many people have tried describing how it feels like - let me tell you: it feels like needles being jammed into your skin. THAT'S how it feels like. Well, okay - most of the time I guess I could compare it to a bee sting. A repetitive, LONG bee sting. Sometimes it felt like he was digging REALLY deeply into my skin, but maybe it was just that particular area being very sensitive.

So two hours later, there I sat, reading my zombie book and chilling. Despite the fact that it lasted for nearly three hours, it didn't feel that long. Time passed rather quickly. I didn't complain, say anything, grimace, ask for breaks, or basically anything. I was the perfect client. Now, that may sound rather childish, but people, give me a break! This is my first tattoo, and it took nearly 3 hours to get done - so I get to gloat and rub it in people's faces, darnit! The last half hour or so hurt a lot more - I think the numbness went away, and by this time, my skin had been run over with the needles so many times it was very tender - so I felt every line. It hurt. I got to the point where I had to ask, "Um, how far along are we?" To which he replied, "Oh, we're done." DOUBLE yay! So he put a bandaid on (a LARGE one), taped me up, and sent me on my way (well, after paying, of course).

So now I'm sitting at home watching the Golden Girls and trying to figure out a way to fall asleep with touching my back. All in all, it was a great experience - I've always wanted a tattoo since I knew what they were, and this step has helped me feel more free to experiment with more in the future. I can't post pictures right now, because I'm taped up for the next four hours, but I will post pictures later today or tomorrow.

In conclusion, getting the tattoo hurt, but not unbearably so, and I think that if you really want to get one, go ahead and don't worry about the pain. Although I would suggest getting something smaller than what I did - just because having your first tattoo sitting be three hours long is kinda intense. And avoid the spine. Everyone says it hurts - and they're right. But like I said before, if you really want it, the pain shouldn't be what stops you - it's bearable.

So toodles, until later!