Mirror Mirror on the Wall

For two whole days I actually dragged my tired ass out of bed 10 minutes earlier (actually, I'm lying...I just didn't get as ready as normal which is like, never normal anyway) just to get Starbucks coffee in the morning. It's not that my morning coffee has to be Starbucks and I don't even go for the fancy schmancy Venti Whipped Cream with Sprinkles Half Decaf Only With Skim But a Dash of Splenda crap. I just knew I needed It. It meaning the caffiene. Sunday nights are never good for me. The laying in bed thinking about the week anticipation absolutely kills me and always provides that zombie with slits for eyes look come Monday morning. Coffee was definitely in the works for my commute. True story: Monday morning I get out the door 10 minutes early and not even two blocks from my house I run out of gas. The horror. I mean, the light didn't even come on to tell me I was running on fumes. And Terrible Tuesday welcomed me with a scrambling to find my keys in such a panic of being late that I actually thought I'd get fired. So alas, this fine Hump Day morning I get my Starbucks. I'm quite certain I asked for a house coffee, two sweet n' lows and skim milk but am convinced she put a shot of creativity in there as well. Cheers to la barista! (Seriously, I wrote 2 emails full of jibberish to KJ before 9am.)

But I am going to try and channel and focus this creative growth spurt I'm experiencing today. It may turn out to be ramblings and I may be confusing creativity for Chatty Kathy syndrome but whatever it is I kind of like it.

I'll begin with a confession. I have been lamenting for a little bit of time now to a dear friend about how frumpy I feel. Like, I have no ass in my work pants or in any pants for that matter. So they always seem baggy and not tailored. There is a piece of my hair on the top of my head that needs to grow out more than the rest that even my own loyal hairdresser couldn't even figure out. My bangs look like that of a 6 year old's hairdressing playdate gone terribly wrong (this has actually happened to me.) My closet is full of clothes that just do not get me. Half the time I feel like a middle-aged 40 year old soccer Mom and half I feel like my closet is a collection of the college years complete with the Where Did This Come From Dress? I need to refocus. I also need to gain some confidence. I am so inspired by two blogs that I follow on a daily basis; Rockstar Diaries and Cupcakes and Cashmere. These women are so absolutely adorable and own their style. Actually, Rockstar Diaries inspired me to bust out the red lipstick one night in a bold move to actually meet fashion head-on. Both women inspire me to pull together looks based on favorite sweaters or cheap meets good-buys.

But what really is ironic is the combination of my self poor image and the this-just-in feeling that I want to be made up and photographed (tastefully.) I feel like it may be a new creative outlet to explore and in the process begin to see myself in light of beauty. Part of me is embarassed to even admit this to myself; I mean, I'm no model. But it's not to see myself as a model but merely to see the expression of who I am come out a little bit clearer. I don't know. Maybe I just need a good haircut and a nap. My optimism on this subject will probably wear by days end.

The red balloon pictures intrigue and inspire me like here and also here.

Sigh.