Solo Costuming Musings

Come and watch us all dance, and see me perform my first EVER solo!

So i've got my intro of my solo smoothed out and damn near perfect already with help by the AWESOME Crystal Eve (shut up you are!), and need to cut a minute from the song itself, which i think i know where i'm going to do it.  Just have to get it cut and listen to it and see how it works.  I know it will, and will make for a powerful ending.  I feel the power as i practice, and Crystal and Darlene's helpful words and encouragement last night made me a little more confidant, no matter how embarrassed/shy i felt/acted.

As for my costume.. i already have the pants i want to wear, though i dont know if i want to sparkle them up or not.  They HAVE to be hemmed, that i know for sure. They need at least two inches off... (sucks being short).

Chiffon Pants Care of Sharif Wear.com

Ocular Bindi By Amy Danielson of The Gypsy Kiss

Choker I bought at Spirit '10 that I play to wear in my solo

I have at least two different options.  I can keep it really simple and just wear my black choli gypsy top, occular bindi the choker i bought at spirit '10, find/buy/make a dance belt, though i want to be able to still have the chiffon panels of the pants to show... so maybe something like the photo below...

Purple or Turquoise Probably

My second option which was my original idea, was getting a corset vest top, and a cropped peasant top with long sleeves. Keep the choker and the ocular bindi of course, maybe have it be a black vest, then a burgundy/wine peasant top.

Haire and make up.. gah.. dont get me started... i cant even think about that cuz of how cranky my hair is. Maybe a rose or two on the right side to offset the bindi.. i dot know yet.. will see what happens.

To Write Love On Her Arms

Since I was 14, I have been fighting a war within myself. Constantly barraged on both sides from not only OCD (which i probably have had since i was about 5 years old), but from depression as well.  The dark sometimes debilitating mental disease that sends me into the darkest corners of my mind; where all is lost and hopeless and seems to hold no meaning whatsoever.

I was on heavy medication for two years, both Prozac and Zoloft, both dosages so high that it made me mentally and emotionally dull.  The stump on your front lawn had more emotion and personality that I ever did for those two years.

Here is a good portion of my story:

When i was in middle school, I was a pretty normal pre-teen girl. Just blossoming and starting to move from "Eww boy cooties" to "wow he's cute". I had a best friend who I had been in classes with since third grade, and she and i have ALWAYS been mistaken for sisters.  Life at home was good for the most part. . . then things changed.

My parents started fighting more and more.  Long loud arguments that had my youngest sister and i hiding in our room, pretending that we couldn't hear them screaming, or mommy crying when daddy left, the door slamming behind him so hard the whole apartment shuddered. There was one day that I remember vividly.  My parents had been fighting, badly, and i sat on my computer, doing something or other, probably playing The Sims, and tears just rolled down my cheeks.  My father came in to say goodbye... and saw me crying and telling me that everything was okay.

I remember saying through my tears, "No, nothings alright, its not okay."  I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I didn't want to be another statistic, I wanted and LIKED the fact that my parents were still together, and that we lived in the same apartment as a family unit.  But with the way the fighting was intensifying, and with how bad it was becoming at home, i just knew that it would happen.

Things started getting harder for me to do at school, grades would slip, effort on projects would wane, and I would stop wanting to help out or do things for my mother or my father.  My mother became concerned and took me to see a therapist, who was a counselor at Coconut Creek Middle at the time (i THINK, not too sure). Fast forward to going to a psychologist, who recommended that I go on meds to up my serotonin levels. 

I was on high dosages of both Prozac and Zoloft, both of which made me less of a person, and i has less quirks and personality than the computer that you are one while reading this.  People think I'm exaggerating when i say things like that, but then they hear from my mother and she backs up my story.

As I was being weaned off the second set of meds, I got frustrated/upset one day and actually started crying.  My mother made the decision then and there that I wasn't going to go on any other medications, because i finally cried.  She was glad that i was crying, but not in a sadistic way, just glad that after two years of being on meds that i finally showed some form of emotion.

I was free of meds, and for a few years i was free of any medication except for the vitamins i occasionally took.  Then i got into my car accident and it all came roaring back to me, with a new friend... PTSD. Such was my fear of being on medication again that i refused to get treatment for six months after my accident, swearing that i could push through the feelings, no problem.  That i could handle it, that i was fine.

Until I finally had a breakdown one day and called my father and told him that i needed to see someone, that i couldn't handle the constant anxiety attacks and the fear running through my mind over and over again.  

There were times when i was with my then BF either at school or at his apartment and have to walk away from all the happiness and the light.  I would walk into his room at the apartment and crawl into his bed and hold a pillow close and toss the sheets over my head to try to drown everything out.  He'd come into the room and hold me as i cried and raged and ranted.

At school i'd sit on his lap curled into him holding my head in tears because my thoughts were spinning around in my head.  I couldn't control them, no matter how hard i tried to stop them, to calm down.  If i didn't hold my head i was afraid that my head would explode in 50 million different directions.  And yet through all of it he held on and kept helping me through.

I started seeing a psychologist, and she prescribed me some meds, Effexor XR.  Thankfully, it did the trick, the dosage going up to where i need it to be, for now.  its lessened the anxiety attacks to nothing save for the three i had while dealing with my psycho ex BF... I no longer deal with racing thoughts, though with stress the compulsive picking has upped a bit.

I started seeing a therapist again after my father abandoned my family and after my boyfriend from college broke up with me a few months later.  She has helped me through a lot of stuff, as well as having the most amazing support from my friends and family.

I am one of the lucky ones.  Some people aren't.

Please, visit http://www.twloha.com/index.php for more information on depression, suicide, addiction, and self-injury, and ways/resources to help your loved ones with this disease.

We can't do it alone. 

We need your help.

We need to know we're still loved.

We need to know that you care.

Because sometimes,

We're just not strong enough to pick ourselves up.

A Realization

As I was looking through my entries on a seperate blog that spanned over the past year, I stumbled on an entry that had me stopping and thinking.  It has been over a year since Jose and I broke up.  What would be REALLY ironic if the one Josh Groban song crops up as i write this entry.

I remember how hard it was for me to get through the day, the pain eating me up inside, my OCD only making it worse.  I had yet again been abandoned by a man that i had thought would be a major part of my life forever, and one that I was deeply and truly in love with.  The night of the break up I laid in bed and wailed and cried and thrashed, my mother and my sister by my side comforting me as best they could; my mother stroking my hair after turning the lights out like she used to do when i was a little girl.  I felt like my heart had been shattered and thrown to the winds.

Work was so hard as well.  Having to keep it together, pretending that nothing was wrong when so many people could see right through me, but chose to say nothing.  Which was a good thing, because me cracking at work, especially with that was not a good idea.  There were a few moments when I had to stuff my hand in my mouth and hold myself to keep from screaming.

Slowly it got easier, for the most part.  It wouldn't hurt as much to think of him, to look at his profile or our photos together.  But then he needed to bring a few things to me and i just HAD to touch him and to breath him in... one last time.  And GOD did it hurt, did it bring the hurt right back, to have him so close, but to not be able to kiss him like i wanted, to have to settle for my nose buried in his neck one last time.

But with the help of friends, family, and yes a therapist, things got better day by day.  I could listen to the aforementioned song and remember the good times, and not want to curl up in a dark corner and hide for the rest of the day.  I could look at our pictures, and remember the good times goofing off in the UC at FAU, ballroom, spending the weekend with him at his apt or his parents' house.  The arrepas Saturday mornings made by his mother fresh off the skillet with meat and cheese and coffee con leche...

Aaannd there it is.  Such a beautiful song.  I think it personifies perfectly how Jose "told" me how much he cared for me.  It's a bittersweet tale to tell now, but it's probably the sweetest way any of my relationships have started.

It was the end of a semester (or something) and i had to return some books to the bookstore, and the person that i was essentially rebounding off of wasn't around, and i didn't want to go alone.  So Jose took his chance and offered to walk me.  Such an awkward man he was, unsure of how to really tell me.  But he told me in no uncertain terms that he cared for me, a LOT.  I was taken aback at first, but flattered.  Looking back I really kicked myself when i realized how i was missing the obvious.  They way he looked at me and interacted with me.  One of the biggest things that i missed was when i was listening to this one song on my MP3 player that i loved, and the way he smiled as he watched me dance like a loon to it.

Tanget sorry... anyways back to the story.  

We went into the bookstore and come to find out I was missing my ID or something and i had to go back to get it.  As we walked back I had been goofy and ran ahead but slowed to catch my breath.  My back was to him and all of a sudden i hear something along the lines of "Oh fuck it," and he came up behind me, turned me around and kissed me square on the lips.  And something in my stomach just clenched, and it felt like a key had been turned.  The Universe telling me "Here is the one that you need to be with right now."  We walked arm in arm back to the UC, stealing kisses before walking back into the UC and cuddled on the couch, everyone not so secretly relieved that he had finally bucked up the courage to tell me how he felt.

And the rest, as one would say, is history.

He was one of the first people on the scene of my car accident a few years ago, along with my father, my mother being the first.  I clung to him when he came, sticking my nose in the V of his shirt, drawing strength and comfort from his presence.  For six months after he put up with me as i went through mood swings and anxiety attacks and OCD attacks that had me isolating myself and crying hysterically holding my head afraid that if i let go my head would explode in a million pieces.  He held me in the darkness of his room when the depression overtook me and i couldn't stand being in the same room as his room mate and his GF as we all watched TV. Held me as i raged and cried, cursing my father, cursing the accident, anything that had gone wrong that day.

He brought me back from the extreme so many times, had me thinking things out logically, step by step until i had calmed down and was able to think clearly.  Gently, patiently, as frustrating as i know it was for him, he did it, and helped me through some rough shit.  And for that I will always be grateful.

And the question that I'm sure a lot of you are thinking. 

"Do you still love him?"

The answer simply, is "Yes".  

But it needs clarification.

I love him as a very dear friend.  I remember the romantic times we had together with fondness and a smile, because that was one of the better times of my life.  Through all the hell that i was going through at home, i knew that i had a safe place to go wherever he was.  He was the logic to my eccentricity, the calm in my storm. And for that i am thankful.

He is a rare gift, and I hope that the woman who captured his heart for the rest of his life treasures the gift that he is.

Rosalind Moore - Updated

Character and Character History of Rosalind Moore (excluding above image) is copyright Kira M Hays 2010
Permission is not given for use of said character or character history without express permission given by the author.
Use of this character and character history without said proof will result in legal action.

Rosalind Moore was a proper English lass and daughter to a wealthy merchant living near the busiest Ports. Whenever any of his ships would come into port she would eagerly greet them as her older brothers piloted the ships in her father’s fleet. They would bring back tales of pirates and far away ports and cities that bustled with rich colors, some more elaborate than their own home town. As she grew she pleaded with her mother and father to allow her to travel with one of her brothers, if only for just once.

Finally her parents relented, and just before her 18th birthday she was allowed to set sail with her oldest brother on her father’s flagship, “Still She Stands”. The voyage was uneventful, until they hit the open waters between Scotland and Norway. Pirates descended upon them and brutally attacked the ship, pilfering the contents of fabrics and leatherworks and gold and jewels that they were carrying. Rosalind tried to hide, but her squeal of fear gave her away to one pirate who crowed with triumph at finding a pretty young thing. He grabbed her and hauled her to the railing and passed her off to someone else on the crew who bound her hands and feet so that she couldn’t scratch or kick.

Rosalind feared that she would be taken into the crew quarters and taken advantage of by all of the men, but as she was hauled up to the deck slung across one crewman’s shoulder like a sack of grain, she heard a rough authoritative voice call out to the rabble. Unceremoniously she was dumped to the ground and she glared up at the man who had called out.

The face she looked up into was that of a ‘normal’ sailor, of course it was only made sinister by the black leather eye patch on one eye and the stern look on his face. “Now what do we have here?” His Scottish accent rang true as he spoke.

“An English lass Captain, probably a ‘companion’ of sorts,” one sailor leered as he reached out to paw at her cheeks. He was sent reeling back as she snapped her teeth at his fingers, an indignant growl rumbling in her throat. The captain laughed.

“I’m no trollop you disgusting man,” Rosalind said with scorn as she struggled to stand. “I’m the daughter of Armand Moore, one of the top merchants in all of England.”

“Not something to be proud of on this ship lass,” the Captain cautioned, his expression becoming darker than before. “The English have done nothing good to the Scotts lassie.” He waved to her. “Take her to the brig; let her pride stew for a night.”

He shrieks of fear and disdain echoed into the belly of the ship, even as she thrashed in vain to try to escape. With a laugh two crewmen placed her in a cell, one cutting her bounds and the other grunting in pain as she kicked his shin, shouting obscenities. As the two men walked away laughing she felt the fear set in and she curled up as far away from the front of the cell as possible and she cried herself to sleep.

She was awoken by the stomping of feet as the whole crew went on deck, and let out a startled shriek when she saw the Captain standing alongside her cell. “Have you come to ravish me sir?”

The Captain laughed, “I am probably the most civilize man upon this ship lass. Tell me, how old are ye?”

Rosalind was taken aback, “Eighteen, Sir, as of last night.”

“How would ye like to be a part of my crew lassie?” Rosalind looked at him, startled.

“Are ye mad? Your crew would eat me alive!”

The Captain shook his head. “Nay lassie, I have spare quarters away from the crew, and they know that if I tell them to leave ye alone they will.” The Captain stood and pulled out a key ring from his belt and unlocked the doors. “Lord Sir Tyrious Nathanial Hammerdown of Bruce, at yer service Miss Rosalind Moore.”

Rosalind mustered herself and stood and gave the captain a proper curtsy befitting his station. “Thank Ye Sir,” And with some trepidation she took his arm, even as she feared that she would be made to walk the plank like in her brother’s stories.

But her fears of walking the plank were unjustified and she soon became part of the crew, and proving to be one of the best and fiercest fighters. Tyrious explained to her that most pirates feared women aboard their ships because it made them seem weak. But he told her that it only made him fiercer, because women are meant to be protected. Rosalind laughed at that and reminded him how she bested every one of his top fighters.

“That is true my lass,” he would chuckle and give her a peck on the cheek in the privacy of the captain’s quarters.

For years Rosalind Moore and Tyrious sailed the seas together, making port and posing as merchants, Rosalind using her father’s influence to get them better prices even as the rest of Tyrious’s crew pillaged the rest of the stores that same night. Slowly a bond began to form between Rosalind and Tyrious and he soon promoted her to his first mate and both had to ‘deal’ with a few dissenters, but those were easily replaced.

One day Tyrious hinted to Rosalind that he was working on a gift for her. She scolded him, reminding him about how curious she was and how much she liked but yet didn’t like surprises. He chuckled and told her that it would be a good surprise, and not to worry. From then on she was banned from his workroom and being the sneaky girl that she was she tried to get in and take a peak, but Tyrious knew how she was and prevented her from seeing it.

Finally one day Tyrious snuck up behind Rosalind and tied a stripe of cloth around her head. “Quiet lassie or ye’ll walk the plank,” he growled playfully into her ear.

“Please mister pirate, I’ll give ye whatever ye wish, just not the plank please!” Rosalind mock pleaded.

“Nay lassie, t’is you who I wish to give you something,” Rosalind hummed lewdly which caused Tyrious to chuckle. “Nothing like that lass, hold out your hands.”

Rosalind was curious and excited at the same time, so she eagerly held out her hands and gently Tyrious set his gift into Rosalind’s hands. Her fingers closed around it as she felt freshly treated leather and steel caress her palms. She took in a sharp breath and lifted her head in a questioning gesture that even Tyrious could read through the blindfold that he had put on her.

“Yes Rose, you may see.” Eagerly Rosalind removed her blindfold and blinked at the change of light and then gasped at what was in her hands.

A beautiful black leather sheath shined in the lamplight framed the silver dagger perfectly and at the bottom of the sheath there were three roses embossed and painted lovingly in perfect detail. Astonished Rosalind looked up at Tyrious with amazement in her eyes.

“Tyrious, it’s beautiful! She’s beautiful!” gently she untied the leather thong and pulled out the steel, whit glinted as the flames rose high. “Where did you get her?”

“Acquired her from the last raid on the English,” Tyrious replied. “Captain didn’t want me to kill him, so I took the knife from him instead,” Rosalind just looked at him. “Lassie ye think I grow soft? I lashed the coward to the main mast and ordered the ship sunk after every bit of finery could be looted from her stern.”

Rosalind laughed and sheathed the dagger before leaping into his arms, and raining kisses on his cheeks and neck. Tyrious wrapped his arms around her and held her tight and at the last moment as she was raining kisses, turned his head and she kissed him full on the lips. The contact thrilled through them both and they froze, looking at each other.

“I’m sorry lassie, did not mean for that to happen.” Tyrious said apologetically, setting her down on the ground.

“No Tyrious, its alright,” Rosalind said, closing the distance between them. “Don’t be sorry.” Tentatively she kissed him again and the fire grew.

Tragically, unforeseen circumstances causes Tyrious and Rosalind to part ways as a terrible storm had thrown her from the ship, her only saving grace being that she was able to take shelter in a chest that had been thrown off the deck as well.  After two days of bobbing at sea she finally washed up on a strange shore, just a few yards away from a Gypsy camp.  Rosalind feared for her safety at first, but soon found that they were not what the land merchants stories had portrayed them and they brought her into their fold after she had passed their test by drinking a potion that they offered her.  When she did not die, they brought her into the fold.

It was a hard life, but full of excitement and travel.  Slowly Rosalind learned the Rom language and their dances, her trills ringing high with the best of them.  She loved the travel and the sights and sounds of each town that she went to. Slowly her past started to become only a distant memory, though the Rom did allow her to keep her knife and sheath, as they all carried some form of knife, and knew how to use it with deadly accuracy.

Solo Video Blog

Single Again

But you know what it's better that I am.  

Because now i can take time to do things for me.  

Not for anyone else.

I had to end it.  I couldn't allow someone to tell me what i should and shouldn't fantasize about, telling me that i couldn't fantasize about anyone else but him (because he only had fantasies about me while he was with me... RIGHT).  And the constant obsessing over something that i had to tell him again and again would NOT happen. Hell i think that if i had told him in a different language it still wouldn't have stuck.

He says he wants to marry me, but how can he expect me to want to marry him when he says he trusts me and then yet in the same breath doubt my loyalty to him?  To me, "Actions speak louder than words".  And just because i express a fantasy, just because i write it out, does NOT mean that i will put that into action! And i said that, again and again.  But he wouldn't believe me, even though he said he did.

And then the presumption of telling what i could and couldn't do and what is should and shouldn't think/do. . . What a joke.  

Yes, i am a sweet woman and very easygoing, but don't you push me too far, or i will make sure i put you on your ass. And that's what i did, i told him that i was done with his bullshit and his controlling ways and his possessiveness.  He went from 0 to child in less than 3 seconds, it was pathetic.  Pleading and crying telling me that okay he'd allow my fantasy and to just take him back and he'd work on his jealously and and and....


GAH!! Whatever, it's done, its over with, time to move on and forward.


Yes I know he will read this, and you know what, i dont care. . . maybe it'll finally sink in that i dont want a child by my side, but a man, who leaves the past in the past, and looks towards the future. . . and that i no longer figure into his FANTASY of a life with me.

Poll

Labor Day Weekend

So yeah, It was a stressful Friday afternoon, 

but then i went to be with my man and things started brightening instantly.

We went to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner at the Sawgrass Mills Mall, and it was PACKED. But at the same time we had amazing service and the food was phenomenal! David had the Chicken Alfredo and I had the Orange Chicken, and we both were swept away by the quality and the taste of the food. The presentation for my meal was beautiful as well!

Looks too good to eat right? But eat it i did and the chicken just melted in my mouth and the sweet and sour of the orange was perfect!  What was really wild was the fact that one of the chef's came out not even 15 minutes after we ordered and apologized for the wait because David's pasta wasn't ready yet.  Needless to say we were impressed and flabbergasted all at the same time. Impressed that a CHEF came out and apologized for the delay, but flabbergasted because it was a typical busy Friday night and it was understandable that food would be slightly delayed in delivery.

Before we went to dinner we went to Spencer's Gift to see if David could find a dragon claw finger armor that would fit his characters as well as over the leather gloves that he wears. But lo and behold he couldn't find one, but i did!!! Fit my hand perfectly!

Such a pretty thing no? The 'gem' isn't red but that's okay, I can say i stole it off a nobleman.  It needed a little adjustment but nothing that David couldn't fix.  After that we went to dinner as previously described then went to Jackson's Ice Cream.  Which was another amazing experience for me as well as a first.  Two MASSIVE scoops of ice cream, death by chocolate and coffee drizzled with chocolate mint ice cream.  I'm salivating just thinking about it.

We went home and played the Wii until 3 am >< and woke up late on Saturday to go to Pier 66 in Ft Lauderdale to be with his parents on their boat.

Isn't she pretty?!  i couldnt handle going belowdeck, too much movement and nothing to see and focus on other than David being a meanie and holding his arms out and reinforcing the rolling and tilting of the boat.  Needless to say I went on deck and relaxed on a deck chair while his mom made us lunch and we ate then got ready to go to the pool, which consisted of me just taking off my shorts and tank top because my bikini was underneath.

We went to the pool and swam and relaxed in the water.  It felt fantastic to be back in the water again. After we were in the water for a few hours we went back to the boat and drank water and had some fruit.  We all got dressed and then David and i walked down to his car, and i just had to admire the sun as it was peaking through the clouds.

We decided that since we were nearby we could go to the Pirate Republic Bar off of A1A and also visited the adjoined Pirate Shop, which is where i have gotten all of my pirate related tank tops.  We also were on the hunt for a swim suit for me since the one i have is juuust a touch too small.  And we found an awesome red one by Body Glove, which is a great company by the way and the suit itself was also very cheap comparative to some others that we saw. . .

Looks great doesn't it?  The color is called Ladybug Red, and the pictures doesn't really do it justice.  I will hopefully be able to wear it out again soon and i will have David take a picture.  It fits me a lot better than the other suit and it covers my big bum a lot better as well.

We also went to Lulu's Bait Shack for dinner and we had some GREAT quesadillas, even better than Moe's!  We also ordered a "Purple Jester" which was REALLY freaking good, almost too good. . . it came with one of those toy hollow alligators that held a floater of 151, which David poured into the drink itself.

We had an awesome view from where we we sitting as well, we could look down and watch the people walking by and watch the boats and freighters go by.  We discussed a lot of things, when we could hear each other since they had a cover band playing and we were very close to them.

After that we went home and relaxed and slept in until about 830 sunday morning.  I wish we could have slept in longer but i had to work all day. . . which really sucked.

Which is obvious considering my expression.  But Monday was better because I could REALLY sleep in, even though i had the dog that night.  It was just a pretty chill day of getting a few things done even though i have a shit ton of things to do still.

Though the most entertaining part of the day was watching my dog go after the lizards on the window and her JUMPING onto the windowsill like a damned cat!!

All in all i had a great weekend!

Abandonment Issues And General Distrust Of Men

So last week my sister gets into a VERY minor car accident (I.E. No damage whatsoever but the guy she bumped is a real dick) and in panic my mother called my father to get some advice.

My father meanwhile is on a boat in Islamorada for the weekend with his precious buddies most likely and being his normal narcissistic egocentric self and says that there is NO possible way that he could receive a phone call because his precious headset is broken and he'd have to get a new one and . . . 

can you smell the bullshit or do i have to keep showing you more?

ANYWAYS, he tells me that he's deleted my mother's voice mail without even listening to it, and that he'd be out of contact until he gets back Sunday.  Which i relay to my mother and stuff gets bad FAST.  He starts to not respond to any of my texts, which i DEMAND that he call me (cuz god forbid he goes below decks or use the phone ON BOARD). 

So my sister texts him basically saying "well it could have been worse, but thanks for showing how much you care," and all of a sudden he's backpedaling and the pile starts getting higher and higher and REALLY reeking.

Saturday morning at ONE AM i get an e-mail from him basically telling me that even though i want NOTHING to do with him he's still going to try to contact me, and that my mother is/was never supposed to call him in emergencies. . . that she could only text him. . .   My first thought is WHAT THE HELL!? the next is merely oh whatever you sad excuse for a man.  

But then my mother gets TWELVE text messages from him, accusing her of calling him on purpose just to make sure that he pissed both myself and my sister off because HE showed he didnt care about what happened to his daughters (My sister and I basically said the same thing to my mom "What does one of us have to be in the hospital, dead or dying for him to sit up and take notice?").  He also accuses her of forcing us away from him, and that it would cause  "long term damage to all relationships they have with men", and that whatever reply, however logical would be "hateful". 

Umm. . . Mom taught me to love, to hug, to smile, to see all the beauty in the world even in the little things. HE was the one that made his friends more of a priority over his goddamn family! HE is the one that left us, abandoned us, showed us that the man we trusted, the man that made the most who helped provide a room over our heads would walk out of our home and our lives with little to no provocation other than the fact that he couldnt handle his own guilt and being held repsonsible for his actions.

But its all my mother's fault that this has happened and all my mother's fault that I will probably never trust the male race ever again, all because he left us without a word, just uprooted all of us violently and carelessly.


Yes you bastard, blame my mother, blame her for your shortcomings yet again.


We shall see who rises and who falls.

BINDI!!!

So my bindi finally arrived last week and the spirit gum arrived earlier this week, and i finally had some time to put it on and mold the bindi to the curve of my forehead where i HOPE to be able to put the bindi.

Though the original way the vendor intended to have the bindi worn is framing the eyes like so:

 

Both ideas i like, and depending on how i finally decided to do my hair in may one of these placements will be how i wear this bindi.

Now i just have to get my ass in gear and work more on my solo so i'll have something to perform then!