Medium Copper Blonde

Two days ago, I had my hair cut after one year and seven months. Two inches of dried hair and split ends were removed, much to my relief. The hairstylist also put something on my hair that made it considerably shinier and softer. I know it will be more than a year when I’d see that hairstylist again using his scissors on my precious hair.

After seventeen years, I have decided to try dying my hair. In fact, I am only waiting for my mom to finish as of the moment and it will be my turn already. Of course I am nervous; after all, I don’t know if ever the color will suit me. And it’s a permanent hair dye, for goodness's sake.

But what I can’t believe is that after weeks and weeks of tremendous research on safe hair dyes, ammonia, hydrogen peroxide, p-Phenylenediamine, and the likes, I will actually use an unpopular dye. I’ve been making trips to stores to check on “safe” hair colors. But it is just plain impossible to find one without any of those three aforementioned ingredients.

I took a patch test for 36 hours anyway. The box of the dye said 24 hours, but I decided to go further. And good thing I didn’t have any allergy. I just wish the color will suit me very well, and that I will have no negative reactions to it later on. Oh, merciful heavens, I am so afraid to try dying my hair but I really want a new color.

My hair is chestnut brown, and under the sunlight some strands appear gold. Yes, it is my natural color. Not  a few people have asked me whether I used a hair dye before. Even when I was in the salon two days ago. I overheard the two girls waiting talking about my hair: “Oh, look at that color. You should try that shade of brown. I wonder what hair color that it, it suits her quite well.”

Why, it should. It’s my natural hair color, after all.

And yes, my new hair color would be Medium Copper Blonde.

It's something like these:

http://media-cache0.pinterest.com/upload/210895195020529396_8Afzw9CI_c.jpg

  

http://www.short-hair-style.com/images/red-hair-medium-copper-golden-blonde-21596525.jpg

http://www.keune.eu/images/news/pr_model.jpg

 

Page 3 of 365

Now that I have released a tad of what I feel, let me tell you how the first three days of my 2013 have been. I will give you a list of the things I did, or accomplished, in the past few days. (Wait, who are you, anyway? No one is even reading this blog. Let's just suppose you are an imaginary friend of mine.)

1. I finished watching the first season of Hana Yori Dango.

2. I started watching the second season a while ago, and I am now on episode six.

3. I have already contacted my expert and he has confirmed the interview.

4. I finished my last interviewee on the Man-In-the-Street interview.

5. I had my hair cut.

6. I bought a new pair of shoes.

7. I read four of my handouts in POSC 1 (Re-imagining the Philippine Politics), consisting of more than a hundred pages.

8. I had my violin repaired, and I started practicing again.

9. I began studying Nihonggo again.

That's all that I can recall for now. And yes, unfortunately, I haven't resumed reading books yet. What a bad start for the new year. But I haven't watched animes and dramas for a long time, so I think it's a bit fine.

Dark and Wrong

This will be my first post for 2013. And yes, what with my very miserable life, this entry will be teeming with a bit of angst and annoyance. Perhaps even a bit of hatred for myself. Maybe I shouldn't be showcasing such self-degrading claims, but I somehow can't refrain myself for doing so. And who'd care, anyway? After all, no one is even reading this futile and nonsensical blog. It's literally a virtual diary. The only difference with my real diary is that this one needs an internet to be accessed. And anyone is free to know the story. To know what is happening to me. But no one does. But I suppose, that's a nice thing. At least I won't have to worry about what I'll post since no one would read them.

How very convenient.

Realizations. Feelings. Pain. I would admit that a few instances a shred of jealousy would hit me. Although one might say that being jealous of someone else is a very unpleasant thing, you can hardly condemn me for doing so. We are human beings, after all. Everyone is susceptible to feeling jealous. But when I do, before my emotions would start to overwhelm me and make me feel unwanted and uncared for, I'd hastily think of my position. I would immediately think of who I am, and what my place really is. Because when I remember that I am nothing special at all, then I could immediately vanquish such evil sentiments. I have no right to feel that way. Swiftly, I would hide those feelings deep inside and act as if they never existed. "Always bear in mind who you are," I will whisper to my mind.

Stupidity. Intelligence. Humiliation. I don't know why people think I'm smart. Just because I qualified for the country's premier university doesn't make me one. I'm stupid, and I know it, and many events are making me realize and making me see this painful truth. Of course I'm stupid. I don't know why, but I am. I just wish they'd stop making lofty expectations. And to those who try to laugh at me and humiliate me whenever I act stupidly, why thank you. Sarcasm intended.

I'm supposed to be sleeping right now. Or at least, I'm supposed to be trying to fall asleep. But I can't. At times like these, when something is bothering me, I won't let myself just ponder about it until my head pounds. I need to talk about it. And of course I would have no one to really talk to, as in have interpersonal communication with, so my only solace left is to write. To write, to write, to write. To write freely because I need to release my emotions even though no one is going to care. Because I will only have the slightest peace of mind after doing this. Or else, I might be insane.

Full of Blasts

In a matter of a few hours, it will be another year once more. Even though there are still three hours left, the sky is already teeming with colorful and iridescent showers of firecrackers, plus the ceaseless honking and deafening noises that come with them. Dogs are barking in agitation and fear. There is a hustling bustle of activity everywhere you go and look.

I especially miss the media noche we had a few years ago. Back then, it was so much more enjoyable and blissful. There was an unmistakable sense on unequaled gaiety floating in the air, and nothing could seem to dampen the cheerful mood. Of course there were mountains of delicious meals for everyone. And when I say everyone, I mean it literally – all of my mom’s siblings would be present, along with their family. Even my uncle who lived outside the country was there to celebrate the wonderful event with us. Laughter would hover in the air amidst endless streams of various conversations.

I hadn’t experienced such a thing for what seemed like a long time now.

These days, only our family would be together in new year’s eve – five people all in all. You’d say it can still be considered fun since we still have firecrackers and foods, but the mood is . . . different. When I was hoping that we could at least have one peaceful night together before the year end, again I was proven mistaken. How I wish that my assumptions weren’t always wrong. Or that what I wanted would always be thwarted by fate.

Quarrels, fights, throwing of things, shouts. . . What a lovely way to start the year.

Here I go again, wondering whose problem it really was. Wondering who really was wrong and right between them. Perhaps I could never tell, I would never know. I would be forever left wondering what really started it all, what really sparked the flame. I would forever be wondering how it all became like this, when it used to be, if not perfect, in harmony.

Maybe it’s my fault, after all. Maybe I have to be blamed for this. I never speak out. I never try to talk to each of the side to know the story. Yes, I listen to them rant, but I never say my opinion. Because I’m afraid, because I’m afraid. It just might be my doing, being such a weakling who perhaps never tried to do anything to bring back this family the way it used to be.

Yes. It might just have been my fault.

Lipstick

My mom gave me an Estee Lauder lipstick last night. It's most probably the first time I will have such a possession. After all, I have never really liked lipsticks. Only lip balms. Why? Well, during my four prom nights in high school, I despised every minute when the beautician would dab some in my lips. Of course I couldn't complain and say I didn't want any of it.

What I would do when no one else was looking was this: I would wipe away the traces of lipstick with my handkerchief. But unfortunately, it never came off. I wondered what kind of lipstick it was to endure such pressure from a cloth. I never liked the color that the beautician chose. Ever. Reddish-brown or brownish-red, I didn't find it alluring. It didn't seem to fit my age. Perhaps an older woman, but not a teenaged-girl.

The lipstick my mom gave me is almost natural, with a tinge of tan and pink. At least, when I tried to put it on, it wasn't much conspicuous and it didn't turn me into an old lady. It only heightened the color of my lips, which I liked. It's called Radiance, which I don't think explains its color at all, but perhaps the effect it has.

But there's this shade of lipstick that I have always wanted. I wondered whether it would look well on my skin tone. Pinkish and almost a pale lavender, it was vibrant and young. But not "vibrant" in the sense that it was too bright. In fact, it was more on the pastel side.

I can't really be certain which shade, I could easily know what it was if I saw someone who actually has it one. But it's something like these:

Illamasqua

Revlon

Image References:

http://www.makeupgeek.com/best-of/top-10-pink-lipsticks/

http://dailycookie.net/2012/08/revlon-baby-pink-colorburst-lipstick-is-a-blast-to-the-past/

Favorite Authors

Of course I haven't read every single work of these authors. But they became my favorite because of one of three reasons: I like the writing style, I like the genres, or I like the stories itself. Either of them.

[In no particular order.]

1. Jane Eyre

2. Edgar Allan Poe

3. Charles Dickens

4. Mark Twain

5. Cassandra Clare

6. Michael Crichton

7. J.K. Rowling

8. Gail Carson Levine

9. Cameron Dokey

10. Victor Hugo

Favorite Anime

Now, before I begin, I will give you a glimpse of my oddity. The anime in this list all made me cry and laugh. I'm extremely weird that way, thinking that if an anime brought tears to my eyes but managed to make me burst into laughter later on, it is worthy to be in my "favorites" list. Please bear with me.

But not only that. They are also the kind of anime that would occupy my thoughts and dreams most of the time. They are the kind of anime that would make me pause for a while and ponder. They are the kind of anime that would unceasingly tickle my imagination.

Here is a list of my favorite anime series, in no particular order. [This might change later on, but probably, only one or two would be replaced.]

1. Katekyo Hitman Reborn

2. La Corda D'Oro

3. Romeo X Juliet

4. DN Angel

5. Sword Art Online

6. Death Note

7. Prince of Tennis

8. Fushigi Yuugi

9. Hunter X Hunter **

10. Fairy Tail **

** - I haven't finished watching this yet, but I plan to do so soon enough.

The other anime series that could be a part of this list are:

1. Special A

2. Cardcaptor Sakura

3. D Gray Man **

4. Gintama **

5. Naruto **

6. Pokemon **

7. Sugar Sugar Rune

8. Yamato Nadeshiko

9. Bokura Ga Ita **

10. Samurai X **