Quirky. But Not in a Good Way.

Phew, it's been awhile since I wrote. Sorry about that. Uninteresting personal stuff.

While I was gone though, I got a make-under. Do you remember Jane Magazine? I looooved Jane Magazine. But I wasn't quirky enough for it when I read it. One of the editors hosted a party and served Pimm's Cups. I had to google what Pimm's Cups were. And I still don't know what they are. Anyhoo...they did make-unders for girls who wore too much red lipstick and liquid eyeliner. And girls who teased their hair about 12 inches too high. I loved that part of the magazine.

Well, I got a make-under of my very own recently. And it wasn't on purpose. And I hate it.

It started with my hair. The lovely lady that usually does my hair is actually a friend of mine. And she had a lovely baby. Well, a handsome, lovely, baby, and she couldn't do my hair. So, she suggested her friend at the salon do it in her absence. I actually somewhat knew said friend, and she is also a very lovely lady. And she did a nice job, except I couldn't help but hear the tiny voice in my head saying, "Your hair is tinted orange. Your hair is tinted orange." I ignored the voice. It's pretty much always there. I can't always listen to it, how else would I teach kids how to draw line segments and identify a right angle?

So, I drove home, still ignoring the voice (how else could I order my dinner from Chipotle?), and showed my Mom. I told my Mom my hair was orange. She said it was Strawberry Blonde. Well, that worked for me. I loved Strawberry Blondes! They were adorable, pretty, dainty, and quirky! Perfect! I would now be all of those things.

Except I wasn't. My hair actually got orange-err. Well more carmellyyy. Which I also thought sounded cool. But not dainty or quirky. Sexy. Trendy. Perfect. I'll take sexy and trendy. Except...carmel just isn't my color.

I decided I'd fix my problem by making an appointment with Lovely Hairdresser #1 (Friday, where are youuuuu?) Problem Solved. Right? Well, sorta.

In the midst of all the hair drama I popped in my favorite nail place to get my eyebrows waxed. It's cheap ($7), and they do a really nice job 8 out of 10 of the times. And even those other 2 are pretty okay. Well, let's say this last time wasn't really nice, or pretty okay, or even okay. My eyebrows are practically gone! I should've known when the tweezing portion (my least favorite part) was taking waaaaay too long. Or when she handed me the mirror for only half a second to look. Of course I said, "Very nice job. Thank you!" I always say very nice job!

So now I'm walking around with an awkward hair color, and even more awkward eyebrows. Dave still loves me. People still look me in the eye. And my students don't run away when I greet them in the morning.

And I probably seem so shallow for even writing this, but I don't care. I wanted to vent about taking a step backward in my quest to become cutely quirky.

Thanks for Listening,

Not So Quirky

Welcome!

Hello there!
My name is Halle. I'm a twenty-something who looks like a teen-something. Really. I have a job I sort-of love, a dog I definitely love, and a boyfriend who definitely loves me (luck for him I feel the same :) )

So, the title of my blog? It pretty much says it all. I always feel like I'm the edge of quirky. I have an almost quirky sense of style. An almost quirky personality. Come to think of it, I'm on the edge of a lot of things. The edge of being a great baker. A talented cook. A one-of-a kind teacher. (there's the job I sort of love!).

When I walk down the street, or through the store, because living here in NJ, I don't walk down the street much, I see people who look like they have mastered something. The girl with the smoky eye? She definitely mastered the make-up course of life. The lady I work with who wears the trench coat and riding boots? She mastered the "10 Classic Looks Every Women Must Own" skill. My friend who has the most abstractly-perfect, don't match anything, yet they match everything" drapes? She has the quirky, cozy, home decorator down.

Don't get me wrong. I do not go moping around wishing I was trench coat lady, or look at my drapes and consider hanging myself from them. I just wonder if someday I'll be the drape lady in a trench coat with a smoky eye. It's certainly worth a try.

My hopes for newborn blog are a lot like any parent's hopes for their newborn (real, breathing) baby. I want her to be the best she can be. I want her to follow her own path, even if it's not the one I originally set out for her. As a parent to a newborn baby blog, I want to enjoy every moment, and be proud of my little girl :) I don't yet know how exactly this blog will turn out, just like a real baby! (The comparisons keep working!!) Happy Birthday Almost Quirky!! I can't wait to see what you become! And with that...

...here goes quirky.

xxoo
Halle