Sunday, September 28, 2008

It broke.

It was my staple. My woobie if you will. It dates back to circa oh 'bout 1994. You know, when the clip phase was sorta on its way back in, but notsomuch the banana version. The clips were larger and had somewhat of a decorative seashell or odd looking bow molded into the actual plastic. They came in all different colors, but I specifically remember choosing a brown. I felt that was the most practical and versatile color of choice.

So this clip is/was 14 years old. That's like the age of a trusty family pet, I say.

Aside from the daily pull-the-hair-back face washings at night and the usual get-this-mess-out-of-my face reach-twist-clasp after long days at the school house, this clip has seen my through:

* my wedding day preparations
* my honeymoon lounging by the pool
* countless trips camping with our good ole pals on the lake
* lotsa sick days


BOTH of my boys' births. She has lasted. Endured. Really been there for me. Oh how she made it all better as I began the nursing process each time with the boys. No mama wants her long locks flowing about when your milk comes in for the first time while a skid dish and quite sleepy newborn dozes as the involuntary milk shower initiates him and mama. Thank you, clip. Thank you for keeping at least my hair dry and clean during that process.

The boys now like to play with my assortments of junky jewelry, clips, shoes,and lotions while I get ready in the morning. Their father isn't exactly overjoyed with this activity, but the make-up gets on right real nice, I think.

Anyway, I actually had a talk with the boys specifically about this clip. I explained in depth how important this item was to mama and they were not to play with this doo-dad ever. Matter of fact, I even walked them through what to do if they saw it lying around on the coffee or end table.

I can't tell you how good it feels to hear Eli:

"Case, that is mommy's favorite clip. I bet she will be looking for it soon. We better get it back to her."


Casey: (while playing stumbling upon my clip) "No-no! Mommy!" (grubby hand then gives clip to his mama.)

They knew. Man, now that is what I call good hometraining.

Well, no more.

The clips lasted me through so many things and yet it had to go and crack while I was flipping Casey over my head on the floor with my feet. JEEZ.

I heard the crack and thought: "Oh no. Nu-uh. There is no way."

As I lifted off the ground, my hair fell down around my shoulders and I knew it was for real.

Out came my clip in 2 pieces. Sigh. Sniff.

Good things must come to an end. I loathe that phrase.

I have contemplated the idea of hot glue. Not gonna work.

So, it was a good run.

I am reverting to my other brown "new age" clip that is half the size and although aesthetically cute as a button, it doesn't hold my hair worth a flip~


2 thoughts keep floating around in my mind:

1. Maybe it's time for the locks to go. Paige boy? Long bangs and some stack action?
2. This clip cracking is a sign. Something else is about to go awry. What on earth could it be?

With that, I am scouring hair magazines and online pictures for a possible new look all while trying not to speed, forget to pay a bill on time, or cut the boys' apples while talking on the phone...

Down and out and tired of re-positioning my "new age" clip,
:-( .mac

Tell me you guys have fond/obsessive attachments to old items too? Don't even get me started on my pajamas...

Thursday, September 25, 2008


Have you ever thought about the whole GPS rage?

In my recent birthday adventure trip, I rode with Kenny's mom and his step dad. (More fondly known as Mom-mom and Larro) We used one of these gadgets to get from point A to point B.

It became quite humorous actually.

The GPS was feminine as it's voice over was a woman's. Now, that there deserves a chuckle, ladies. I mean seriously, the percentage of men out there that would stop for directions much less even consider taking them from a woman...a voice operated woman at that, is probably about as many as the number of times my 19 month old has gone to the big boy potty.

So, we use this GPS to chart our course to a destination that each of us has been to more times than we can count. I mean, we could have probably blind folded Mom-mom and I would lay my money on the table that her instincts alone could motor us right to Kristi's.

But it was GPS or bust.

We listened to that woman take us through side streets, old highway junctions, and scenic roads as opposed to our regular interstate turns. Each time she (that's what we called her)would courteously tap out the next wave of directions with a route that was different from what we were used to, all three of us would go into great deliberation. We himmed and hawwed on whether or not we should be obedient passengers riding on the gas fumes of ignorance or should we stick to the course we knew like the back of our hand.

This GPS experience has got my wheels turning.

We are all guilty of putting more stock into a computer generated, electronic set of instructions. This GPS role plays in countless ways in our lives. Have you ever done something because someone else told you to when your gut told you...

"to not to?"
-Mater, The movie CARS

Well, there you go. She, our sweet GPS from our trip, just made her debut in your life as well. Why do we question or deliberate over things already answered in the gut checks of our lives?

I mean you've got a skin care system that is working. I mean you are really seeing some improvements in your skin. After about 2 months you all of sudden get the notion you need to start looking for something different.

You get compliments every time you wear your sassy red shoes. Every time. But you start contemplating the idea of getting another kind of red shoe just for variations sake.

Or maybe you've found the perfect mascara. It covers and thickens, glosses and glistens those average Snuffalufugus lashes of yours. You tell every one about this product. Your tube is starting to dry up, and it enters your mind to "just see what else is out there." WHAT??? You are a CRAZY WOMAN!!!

Perhaps even you have a bag that is selling like hotcakes. And you think,hmmmmm. Maybe I'll change a little something here or even add a touch of this.

Or maybe even the hum-drums of life and the tug-o-wars you play with your ever precious to-do lists of gottgetheres and hurrypickupthisandgotheres have you questioning the meaning of it all. The "where is the purpose and why does it even matter."

YOUR GPS. Find it. Hold fast to it. Stick to it. Not the computer generated ever-friendly voice over. But the one that speaks to your soul and sits sweetly in your heart. The one that kicks you in the gut too. Don't go seeking for the she that can tell you what is right or best.

That she is a fraud.

Keep what works in your life. Keep what you know and have success with. Find your CONTENTMENT and happiness there.

And then rest...yes, REST and relish in it.

My GPS. I'll stick to it.

: "Nice talk, Meg."

Take that, she!

.mac :-)

Monday, September 22, 2008

Hanging On and Letting Go

Fabric collections of old,

Blue jeans that are too,

Each has a season,
Each,in time, bids adieu.

Just as my sweet summer sneaks away to a newborn fall,

Last looks at plump flowers.

Another gaze finds withering. Ah, yes. Summer's final curtain call.

Turn my head to the side,
I'll try not to let this change bring me down,
Yep, ignorance will be my safeguard.
My mind will stop time. This life shift won't make me frown.

Oh no. Time's not listening.
He's arrogant in his cause.

Why, I see my little baby,
Reading with his big brother...WAIT!
Please time, let me press PAUSE!

Life changes; seasons stretch and shift.
If only that were true for my blue jeans,
And NOT for my breasts after nursing...
Well, they could use a good lift.

But worry, alas, I will not.
For with each change, I can make time be my friend.
For out with the old comes the new.
Yes. Yes. It's on change I can depend.

I'll welcome harvests and chily morns.
I'll make giddy over new fabric collections too.

Ripe, rich colors.
Well, come on in! My, my, what shall I design with you?

As for my baby,
It's like I meet Casey McGill more and more each day.

Football's his favorite.
He would like for vegetables to go away.

For it was on this day I never would have known,
That he would be my tough guy; my fiesty, protective little man,
Never then would I have seen it,
For he barely even fit into our hands.

And those seasons,
Well, change if you must.
For every one of you gives us something joyeous to celebrate.
Okay time, I'll turn the corner.

Just quit being so pushy! Give me a minute to get my bags out,
Hang on! WAIT!!

Now as for the jeans, well dang-it...
At a stand still I am.

I ain't welcoming this change,
NO! NO! I will not!
These jeans made me happy.
I fit so nicely into them; Kenny,did I not?

Yes, it's clear that change holds the reins,
Yep, with this I will simply sigh and give in.
Those sweet thrfited jeans were my favorites,
Alas, chalk the "W" up in the swiss cake roll column,
I think they earned the win.

I'll relax now.
Finish my coffee; let me pencil dreaming begin,
Begin what you ask?
Oh, just a new bag design for k.Mac.

Why is that?
Change? Have you met him yet?
Let me introduce you to my new best friend.

Happy Monday!!

:-) .mac

P.S. Thank you to all of our participants in KP's birthday celebration! You ALL receive the 20% off!! I look forward to designing with you!

Friday, September 19, 2008

The name is Juliet

Not as in Romeo, but Daisymay.

Giving a wonderful and unique gift is just the best I think. I love the anticipation that you have as you eagerly await that bow to untie and the crinkling sound that the paper makes in the hands of your special ones.

There's just nothing better.

Unless, of course, the gift is handmade. Now the cherry on top is ripe, red, shiny, and has the most perfect of stems.

I was able to get this feeling not once, but twice thanks to Juliet.

We adore our neighbors, E.K. and Arlene. They are nothing short of family to us. After they had their son, Brayden, I knew I wanted to give something to Arlene that was personal, unique, different not to mention from the heart. I had my eyes out since his birth in March, but nothing seemed to jump out at me.

Then Adam, my brother, and Kim, my sister-in-law, had their first child, Mollye. I was overwhelmed even more with finding the most perfect of gifts.

I guess it is because I am a mom. I know how much work it takes firsthand. I see how much sacrifice is made. I know the visionary a mama must be. I know how much her family needs her. I know how much she needs her family. The care, unconditional love, and continous support a mother provides her family is her gift to them.

I wanted Arlene and Kim to know that those gifts they will be giving their family are appreciated. That their job as a wife and mom is above all the most precious of job titles to have. So when they feel overhwelmed and under appreciated at times (because those times will come) they will have a reminder that the work and love for their family IS their greatest of accomplishments.

So eager to give a gift to represent this, I scoured the internet as my eyes were not finding anything in my local surroundings.

I stumbled upon Daismay.

And, there it was. Her craft is so tailored and eye catching, true. But her willingness to custom design and work with you on a project is outstanding. That's what drew me into to Daisymay.

I had in my mind an idea that I thought would be so symbolic to the job of wife and mother. I spilled it to her and she and I immediately began collaberating on a handmade creation to suite this idea.

Her service was professional,kind, and prompt. She answered all of my questions and for those of you who know me...I ask a lot of them!!!

Because of her, my heart sang out with joy as the paper began to crumple in Arlene and Kim's hands.

Here are the finished gifts I gave these super moms:

Knowing this gift was completely hand crafted around the words from my heart brought me such joy. Here is the poem I wrote to Kim that egnited the vision for Juliet. My words to Arlene were very similiar. A few of the lines varied though.

~The Circle~

Cycles, circles, round-n-round,
Days you are up; days you are down.
Triumphs and trials wave their hellos & goodbyes,
Time passes on and ‘round the circle we slide.

The circle is like magic; a flying carpet of dreams,
Heed to its curves; hold on by faith to its seams.
Opportunity is the admission ticket & the line, in which you stand,
Destiny awaits you; punch your ticket; fall into God’s wonderful plan.

A husband you have been given and, indeed, you are his most precious of gifts,
Your attitudes and teamwork set the tempo as turns come and life shifts.

Let patience and honesty glide you ‘round the edges.
While compassion keeps your hold firm but not too tight,
Respect for one another is your center,
Keep all of these with you when the edges are rough and times of joy are out of sight.

Your marriage comes first.
Its color is the richest; its roots the most deep.
The work is worth the bangs, the dings,
Hold Adam in your heart the closest; for it is forever in your heart where he will keep.

Another round and with the most precious of blessings a mama you are,
Mollye will bring forth a whole new shiny circle of life for you.
Her life shaped by your heart and guided by your hands,
Her models, you and Adam,, provide her the rhythm to the dreams she will one day pursue.

Your love for Mollye will grow as your 2 circles coincide.
Living, learning, loving begins to set your course’s pace,
Celebrating happy times, forging through the dark, believing in one another,
These are the acts that prepare you for your life one day in the most heavenly place.

God gives us these circles.
He’s the one who speeds our journey up and slows our rides ‘round.
It’s His grace that gives us the freedom to jump on this magic carpet ride,
Keep your heart ready for it is your attitude on the curves and turns that yields to a life lived profound.

Cycles, circles, round-n-round,
Days you are up; days you are down.
Triumphs and trials wave their hellos and goodbyes,
Time passes on and ‘round the circle we slide.

This gift I give you is simple,
You will find meaning in every piece,
I look forward to all the memories we're going to make together,
Thank you for loving my brother and my soon-to-be niece!


I wanted the disc that represented marriage to be the richest in color so we chose copper. I also wanted it to be hammered for texture and distress to represent the work it takes for a happy,successful marriage.

From there, our ideas worked together for the disc that represented children.

Wife and mama. It's a gift. It's a treasure. It's not always smooth. It's always worth it.

I got one for myself too. I think we all deserve one.

Thanks so much, Juliet!!

Happy Friday!

:-) .mac

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

37, 38, 39...

k. is 40 years old today! Somebody press play on the CD disc changer so 50 Cent can give her the propa shout out..."Go shorty, it's your birthday.."

The TN crew all loaded up (that's a very popular SC phrase I am noticing)with the exception of Kenny and the boys. Kenny had football and there was no chance I was going to take the boys on a 7 hour trip on Saturday and then turn around and come right back 7 more hours on Sunday.
So the rest of us loaded up, and headed to South Carolina to KP's surprise birthday party celebration. It was a grand time, I say. Absolutely the best. I rode up with my Kenny's mom and step dad. The company was great and I had some handiwork that consumed my every being on the way up and back (more to report on that later.)

The party was perfect-a-mundo! Kristi's friend, Kim, and her sister-in-law, Renee, made the night extravagant with the decorations and food.
Here I am with Taylor (Kristi's daughter; my lovely niece), and my other SIL, Melissa waiting to yell at the old woman!

Here are some for real SURPRISE guests!! These sneaky little piggies made their way all the way to SC without telling anyone! Seeing this crew turn out for Kristi put a smile on all of our faces! Thanks for being my dance partner, Joseph!
Kristi didn't have a clue! I know this because she shed a few tiny tears as she walked into the country club to find all of her friends and family yelling, "SURPRISE!"

This is almost unbelievable as Kristi is Mrs. Private Investigator...there's nothing she can't find out. She's magic, I tell you.

This table was waiting for her as she walked into the dance room. Talk about fancy, huh? Isn't that Kristi Cobble a cutie-pa-tootie in that picture?!

Then she was greeted by oh let's just say the PAST!! Those sweet parents of hers were so nice to share all of her model worthy pictures through the years.

The remainder of the evening was filled with drinks, dinner, and DANCING!! My three favorite D's aside from diamonds, doughnuts, dollar stores, day dreaming...oh sorry. You get the drift.

I must admit I wore that dance floor out. It didn't matter the song; it didn't matter that I was the only one on the floor at times...I danced like a mad woman in my favorite shoes.

I think Kristi had a super time on the dance floor too. Here she is leading her birthday dance party train.

On Sunday, after all the festivities had concluded, I took a walk in my hideously old, worn out, and faded bathing suit on the beach. Does anyone else have issues with getting rid of old bathing suits? It's like when they finally feel "worn in" and aren't pinching your backside, it's really time to just trash them and move onto a new suit. Can't do it.

Okay, that was tangent. Anyhoo.

As I walked along the shore and splashed (yep, by myself) in the water it hit me that getting older is like a beach in several ways. Allow me to compare these with a scattered list:

there's beauty there
rocks sometimes get in your way
seeing the sunset and rise takes on a greater meaning
stuff shifts as gravity takes hold
tides come in and roll out
imprints and impressions are made
sometimes you just get stuck in the seaweed
you collect things to take with you
each wave leaves the sand closest to it smooth and new
the walk is long in either direction
lighthouses and piers are there as guideposts
there's brilliance and peacefulness that surrounds you

Those were just a few.
But there's one thing for sure about this thing called life.

It has lots of "rocky waves" (that's an Eli-ism).

As the water rushes into the shore, do your eyes focus on the pile of sand that remains from the force of the current?

Or do your eyes stare intently on the sweet rhythmic ripples and rolls that life holds for all of us.

It's all what you make it. Simple as that.

Happy Birthday, Kristi!!

In honor of her BIG 4-0, k.Mac has a giveaway! Just post a comment by this Friday at 12:00PM (EST) and we will select 2 luckies to receive this coupon!


Cause 20+20=40!!!!!!!

.mac :-)

Friday, September 12, 2008

This Lil' Sheila

Good day, mates! This little diva is headed here.

By far, she is my furthest custom design order! A blue ribbon is definitely in order!

This is k.Mac's Hipster. It makes a great diaper bag as it has 6 interior pockets and 6 exterior pockets as well. This is our large size.

We also have several clients purchase this bag design for airplane carry ons, trips to go on wine tasting tours, and for mommys with little ones close in age for the "all in one" diaper bag/purse.

No matter the reason, our Hipster is ready for action.

I really like the bordering that the brown ribbon provided. I felt like it brought out the brown that is less prominent a color in the color scheme.

This customer also ordered a matching changing pad and diaper burp cloth.

Lastly, our client wanted her name embroidered on the inside along with Bible verses that are near and dear to her heart.

All in all, I think k.Mac will represent the red, white, and blue well with this lil' Sheila!!

:-) .mac

Thursday, September 11, 2008


Spread it.
Like jam on bread.
When tears are falling,
When hearts are aching,
Share a smile,
Meet them with your eyes,
Like jam on bread.

Boo-boos hurt.
Age doesn't count.
We all need a band aid every once in awhile.
A break.
A chance to catch our breath,
Fall softly,
And sometimes just be still.

Spend it like money,
Big green dollar bills and fat shiny quarters,
May you be poor,
Stuff pockets full.
Only then are you rich.

Please and thank yous
Like jam on bread.

a gesture,
a thought,
a meal,

Peach cobbler to friends that are missing a loved one so.

Spread it.
Like jam on bread.

Monday, September 8, 2008

Don't Be Fooled...

" the rocks that I got. I'm still, I'm still Jenny from the block."

- Jennifer Lopez

(-mini credit due to Angie Bowman's Facebook account)

Rocks. I like'em. A small confession, in fact, I used to want to eat them when I was little. Weird? Yeah, a little. But I can think of much more grotesque things that a wee one might want to nibble, can't you?

Remember this movie? I was enamored by the rock biter.

I was infatuated with this flick as a little girl. It was all things magical and make believe. It was far fetched and dramatic with adventures wrapped around mysteries and untold secrets...right up my alley.

I can remember watching this movie and trying to memorize every stage prop so that I could swiftly re-inact in my world. They were so detailed in colors from creamy whites as Falcore flew and dusky grays in the old attic; I can remember them vividly. It seemed there were lots of dark tones with only a pop of color every now and again. Being a person who is drawn to bright colors, I thought it was odd that I remember the monotone theme as a little girl. Perhaps it was the accessories in the settings that drew my memory in then. Looking back, now, it is the metaphor that this placement and use of color represents to me. Life, in general, is neutral in color. There are many details to keep us occupied, but routine and schedules dub down brights. It is with passion and an understanding of the bigger picture that one can add his/her own POP of color into the picture screen. Then, you can relish in the mundane all with your eyes fixed on the warmness and joy you get from your focus on this sweet hymn of color and exuberance. Wowzers. Didn't know I had that in me on a Monday morning!

Maybe that's why sunsets and sunrises are so inspriational. Flowers blooming, leaves falling, Christmas lights sparkling. These are all tiny examples of how color wraps us up in our happy.

Anyway, I loved to pretend.

Pretending is creating. I loved being able to step into my chosen theatre and play any given part. I loved writing the script so-to-speak. But most of all, I loved the setting. I love the crucial role it played in molding the tone for the mood. I can remember deliberating over whether or not Barbie's clothes should be lying on her bed folded as if she was planning a trip out of town with Ken or should they not be so that Ken would SURPRISE her with a trip! Oh the choices! See, those size zero clothes and 5 inch spiked heels made a HUGE inpact on the mood of this story, don't you think?? You can only imagine the intricate setting questions my mom and dad had to field when I was younger. Bless their heart.

Needless to say I played for hours on end and well into my junior high years. There, I said it. For all of you reading from the good ole junior high days...yep, I played Barbie and was even known to pick up a baby doll well into my 7th grade year. Shew. Glad I got that off my chest.

I had a really hard time playing with others that didn't appreciate the elements of story like I did. That bothered me. Like when Pamela from across the road wanted Barbie to get into her Barbie Jeep to go shopping WITHOUT her heels on...well, I lost it. This just wasn't real. It blew the mood. Geez, Pamela, could we just play Monpoly? Oh yeah, I forgot you can't count money yet. Bummer.

Moods mold our memories. Whether we like it or not, they do.

I had the pleasure of going here this Saturuday with my ole sidekick, Angie.

Her mom gets tickets and we go in cognito as one of her mom's workers. Role play. Perfect!

We had a great time. We've done this in years past. I can remember our giddiness as we filled our pockets full of wholesale jewelry. Funds drastically limited my pocket overload this year, BUT the good company and the break from the boys was much enjoyed.

The picture above is 2 treasures I nabbed up from this fun Saturday. Rocks. I love'em. Fake or real, they still sparkle to me. Sparkle is critical to my mood.

I had to be on the road by 5:00AM to get to Angie's mom's house by 7:00AM. WOW!! Didn't get to bed until 1:00AM the night before as I had random chores to tidy up after the boys when I got home from Coach Cobble's football game. He won 35-0!

SOOOOOOOOOO, really tired as my shiny black car (that's what Eli named my black accord) treked down 75N.

Radio was in full effect. Coffee in hand. I jammed out.

Which brings me to mood.

Music is a great component to the setting of life.

I love the seek button. Some people hate it. I love the element of surprise that one gets from just pressing that good ole button deemed: SEEK.

So seek I did. And oh, what I found. Man, my mood was heightened, my body was groovin', and I was taking one of the best walks down memory lane.

Here is a sampling of my walk and where it took me...

1. This one. Oh college. Getting ready for going out. What to wear? Where we goin'? Who's comin'? Man, this little ditty put me right back to my MC days. Cannot love this song anymore.

2. And this one. One of the best movies ever. I don't care how cliche and popular this movie is, it's a staple to any girl. Baby learning to dance. Johnny teaching her. Teaching her. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Just a moment there for me. Okay I'm back. It is any girl's dream: to be wanted, taken over by love, and fought for. Classic, I say.

3. Such a sweet song. So simple. So whimsical. The list of what you love. I think we should all make a song of our lists. This song, without a doubt, reminds me of the love I have for my boys. Their uniqueness, their passions for trains and balls, the reality that they are mine forever and ever amen.

4. Jam out to this one I did. Yeah, I even played air guitar and did the whole steering wheel drums too. Hyped to drain some threes and play some d. Somebody get me to a ball court. Where's the round ball?

5. Dreams. They are everything. You gotta have them. You have to reach for them and never stop until you grab'em. This song allows me to delight in hope and the one-day that will be for all if we just keep dreaming.

6. Point me to the dance floor, please. (WARNING: I could only find the unsensored version. This one is not my first preference AT ALL, but one has to provide the mood for all random samplings) This song gets my hind end IN MOTION! And it did just that in my shiny black car. I was rockin' out! Man, I LOVE to dance!!!

7. My dad and brother. The old days. Dad taught us as much about music as mom did. The love of Bruce. That's what he gave us. Any time I hear a song of his it takes me back to chocolate Yoo-Hoos on the way home from the lake in the back of dad's truck with the dogs and Bruce blaring. Adam and Dad, this one is for you.

8. Kenny. My rock. Man, it just keeps getting better. He is more the man of my dreams now than he ever has been. In love takes such new meaning every year that passes as Mrs. Howard Kenneth Cobble III. I am thankful for each and every one. Keep'em comin', Ken.

9. In His hands. That's where I am. My walk with Him grounds me and makes me so much more than I ever thought I could be. Mom loved this song. I can remember Sunday spring afternoons with the windows open, this song prancing about our house, and mom changing the sheets. Good memories. God is good.

There they are. A random sampling of my rocks. All found by just a push of that seek button. Each song moved me in a different way. My setting was molded; my mood altered.

The Never Ending Story. Perhaps, I am the rock biter, in a way.

:-) .mac

Friday, September 5, 2008

Drum roll, please...

DISCLAIMER---HUGE surprise at the end of this post! If you like surprises, read the post first! If you want to ruin it, heck I don't care! How will I ever know?!!

How did it go?
Is that what you say?
Are your ends fried?
Did you go get it fixed? Tell me, how much did you have to pay?

As for my ends well, they're all in tact.
My mood has lightened, and my happy spirit is BACK!

It seems an evil culprit was weaving his master plan.
How does that monthly curse seem to always ruin the place where I am?

Now don't get me wrong,
Those boys helped too!
Thank goodness for box wine,
And for bleach that is blue!

What's that?
You think you might wanna see?
Well, there is a surprise waiting...
It's for you from ME!

In my desperate attempt to make myself smile,
Well, you know me, I went the EXTRA mile.

Oh no, I didn't stop at color and bleach,
No, the down-n-out me decided on an even BIGGER change,
So for the perm solution...I DID REACH!

So go ahead and check out the grand finale pics,
Can't wait to hear your comments on what you're about to see...
My appointment book is open,
You are all welcome to schedule a visit to the k.Mac Hair Company!!!

Happy Friday!!!

.mac :-)

Totally kidding on the perm part!!
Did you think I was totally CRAZY???
Two french braids brought their BFF's, pink sponge rollers, over to my house for a slumber party last night!
Can't you tell from the pics, we had a blast?!!
Have a great weekend!!!

Thursday, September 4, 2008

I Don't Like Her...

....I don't' trust anyone who does their own hair. I don't think it is natural.

- Truvy from Steel Magnolias

I didn't want to do it. Honest, I didn't. But desperate times call for desperate measures (that was my back up for the title of this post).
So, I played Kitchen Beautician.
I know. I know. You don't have to tell me. I already know what "OH MY...NO YOU DIDN'T" thoughts are going through your head.
It started like this.
I am a loyal customer. I am a consistent customer. I tip. I show up on time. I wait. For six years I waited every appointment. I have waited up to 1 1/2 hours before. But I still go back.
Cause she is dang good at what she does. That and she agrees with me that there should be ZERO roots after a color session. I mean ZERO. NO 1/4 inch break from the scalp and then the color begins. No.No.No. One must pour the dye/bleach into the root cavity if at all possible so that the re-growth might even have a tint of color.
Yep, that's my girl.
But we had a fall out. Such a long story to tell, but it involved back to back appointments that left me feeling not so much appreciated and valued as a customer.
So I decided to move on for the time being.
I tried someone new. (even though I felt as if I was having an affair)
He didn't pan out.
It seemd he liked the 1/4 inch break before beginning color.
No go.
So this left me stranded. I have let my hair just grow and I am to the point where even when my hair is fresh washed (stealing a term from my good ole gal pal, Angie here) it still looks dirrrrrrrrrrrrty.

Which brings me to today.
I took the boys and went to visit my grandmother, Mom-mommie.
Boys + road trip + today = kitchen beautician.

It was a ROUGH day. Lotsa whining, lotsa timeouts, lotsa spanks, lotsa lotsa.
As I was driving home listening to the boys oh insert any of the below here ___________.

* click their tongues in unison
* scream "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" to one another as loud as they could
* shout the word "poopy" and then laugh hysterically like goats
* kick the backs of the bucket car seats
* play tug of war with Casey's blanket until it turned into a meltdown (you know the kind where laughter immediately turns into rage crying. Meet Casey.

I decided I needed a pick me up. This is where I'm wired a wee bit backwards. You see, when I am under duress and feeling stress I don't naturally tend to want to veg out.
No, no. Not me.
No, what I like to do is add more on my plate. You know start a new project, try something I have never done before, cook a brand new dish while sewing about 10 new custom purse orders or even perhaps attempt to color/highlight my hair ON MY OWN.
For those of you who know me well. This ain't my first rodeo.
I used to live with a hairdresser right out of college. I would occasionally get tips and how to's on how to do certain tricks. But mostly she let me play in her hair stash. For a period of about 3 years, I did my own highlights. Just a little "homegrown" looking from time to time and I'm not gonna lie. MAYBE, just maybe some hairs were burned off from over processing. But just once or twice. Or three times.
Once moving to Chattanooga, I found my girl wonder and I was set.
Like I said, until now.
So I get home; feed the angels.
What's that?
That's right. I fed them waffles.
Cause I didn't have a care in the world to try to even attempt coercing them into eating vegetables at this point. I did throw some applesauce out for an appetizer. It went over pretty well.
By this time Kenny walks in from practice.
He is a true GOD send.
He whisks the boys off to do baths and bed and I hit the floor running to the store.
Why Sally's Beauty Supply, of course.
I have a quick convo with my old roommate Amanda the hair dresser as to what color to buy. I went with a 6N and 5G and combined them equal parts. These are a dark brown color with richness in tone. Kind of like a light Chestnut color.

I buy some bleach for my highlights and all the necessities and I am out the gate.
My sister-in-law, Kim, gave me a book today which sort of prompted me for my next stop:

So I went and picked up this:

(AAAHHHH, the ole box wine. Straight Aunt Sharon style. Mom used to drink this too. Cheap, lots of it, and just what I needed after a day like today.)
I get home. I do the color first. Kenny, again the GOD send husband, helps me get my hair evenly through the cap.

Go time.
25 minutes later. I rinse and wash.
It is dark. I like it. Now time for highlights.

Amanda recommended I use the cap pull through technique for this, but I had another idea...see how I like to play rue let right up until the very end? Crazy I say.

I broke out the aluminum foil and decided to ahem,"be creative." I blame it on being left handed...way too much artsy fartsy stuff going on in my mojo at times...way too much.

Check out this bad boy:

Yep, that humdinger is mine. Yanked right out of the basement from my good ole days of Kitchen Beautician. Ain't she a beaut? Bought this trendy dryer when I was a wee 22. That's 10 years ago. YIKES!!! This ole gal teamed up with mom's/my old teaching chair and made one helluva beauty parlor!
One glass of wine down, the 2nd one poured and I am rollin'.
It's not perfect and no, you are not getting a grand finale picture until tomorrow!
The suspense is killing you isn't it? Either it's that or this hideously long post.
Perhaps tomorrow will be the unveiling of the hair. Perhaps.
Wonder what you guys are thinking right now...

In the words of Truvy... There's no such thing as natural beauty.

Ain't that the truth!

:-) .mac
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