My husband and I were trying to find this one specific
wideshot image from the Oscars and we were googling him and this one weird
photo came up of him on stage with the oscar and what looked like a red target
maybe, off to the side by his shoulder. We click and it led us to a hair loss
or hair replacement forum where they were discussing his hair. A bunch of
people were saying that his hair was a wig. The target photo was a photo in
favor of the idea that he wears a wig and the circle was to highlight how his
hair lay at the back of his neck, proving the point. They also thought it
because you cannot see a part in most photos. Alas, they are un-familiar with
silky asian hair. They went on and on comment after comment about how he wore a
“full cap” and that he had too much hair for is age and how his hairstyle was
“Bieber-ish” and too young for his age. Then there was a whole crew really into
his hair color and trying to pinpoint it, wondering if it would be called ash
brown, or black, or what. It was most hilarious. We got a great laugh out of
It was amazing to experience personally what people on
the internet do. How free they are to trash someone without shame, someone with
low level celebrity, anyone really. It reminded me of just how silly any of us
sound if daring to talk about the way someone else looks. Some of the comments
were vicious and had it indeed been a tender issue, it might really hurt. I had
recently been called out on something I posted talking about someone’s looks,
written 8 years ago when I was a bit more raw, relative to a story about my
mental changes and seeing someone differently, and although I thought I was
keeping it anonymous, I heeded the point. http://hollyramoswrites.blogspot.com/2015/07/im-sorry.html
Notes to self: Don’t judge or criticize
other people’s appearances. Don’t read about yourself online. Don’t believe
anything you read on line. Don’t think you know it all, because you don’t. If
you are curious, go to the source and ask. Always remember that what other
people say about you is a reflection of them not you. And most important don’t
piss off Tom, or he might stuff his wig cap in your face and blind you with his
shiny round head. Well, he wouldn’t do that, since he is kind and doesn’t wear
a wig cap, but I might. I have been known to wear an afro puff or two and some
falls, ala Bardot, now and then. And who knows, I might be completely bald
underneath it all, after all I am almost 50. Laugh a lot, it feels so good.
I read this today and found it so interesting and it
rang so true to me. I hope it helps someone, and of course it relates to girls
as well. I just want to keep inviting anyone who wants to listen, particularly
myself, to stay present, be available, sit through the hard work and get the
payoff, the gold of human connection.
In regard to the huge increase in the diagnosis of
attention deficit Disorder, now called ADAH, Lawrence Cohen writes in Playful
Patenting, “..I think many attention problems in boys are really attachment
problems. They have more to do with the boy’s cup being empty or leaky than
they do with any inability to process information. No one can process information
properly or pay attention well if they don’t have the secure base of good
attachment. Stanley Greenspan write‘The active energetic child soon leans to seek in stimulation the
satisfaction he cannot find in intimacy.’ Then of course all that racing around
makes him hard to be close to. Thus the impulsivity and scattered quality of
some boys diagnosed with ADD may simply be a side effect of a deeper problem,
an inability to connect.”
Connection can be cultivated. All transformation is
99 days till 50: Today I was a really good mother and
gave my kids all the love and attention and kindness they needed and it was
exhausting, so I ate chocolate to have the strength to go on. Being present and
available is not my forte, but I work hard at it, because it is so worth it. As
I said many times before, it is hard to give something you never got. But alas,
changing the historical pattern of generations changes the world. That being
said, can I tell you how
unrewarding it feels? It is so boring and uncomfortable to do the deep inside
work despite it being worth it. And this applies to ANY change you might want
to make, lose weight, stop an addiction, let go of clutter, stop dating
unavailable people, change you life……
Ok, so a rocket is off course 90% of the time. It
constantly veers off course and is brought back. Those minor adjustments make
all the difference in regard to the final destination. It can make light years
of difference over time, yes? A small correction goes a long way in the arc of
a rocket or the arc of a lifetime. The reason people fail to make those
corrections is mainly because there is no external validation in the work. The
work to change feels sluggish, depressing and uncomfortable because we are
literally carving new neural pathways in our brains, fighting against the
current of the path of least resistance. Going against the current is not
comfortable, it is going outside of everything you have ever done and
everything you know and it is hard work and unfamiliar and thus very
uncomfortable. And, there is NO PAYOFF, for a while at least. It just feels
terrible and for me depressing, because there is no drama there either.
Whatever payoff you get from the behavior, you certainly do not get from
changing it, so why bother? Why?Because
all that stands in the way of you becoming who you want to be and having the
life you desire, is a stretch of depressing discomfort that will indeed end. If
you move through it, knowing that there are no cash and prizes for a while, you
will find the gold. I promise. Do yourself the honor.
I have been talking about turning 50 for so long that
you may think I already am, but I still have 100 days till I’m half a century.
I propose shaking things up and doing a count down of what is great and what is
going on for me as I celebrate this period of life before being half way to
100. Today I jogged after dropping my daughter at school and stretched with my
son crawling over me. I cannot believe how magically lovely my family is. I am
thrilled by life. Won’t apologize for bragging. Thank you universe/dollface.
I saw this woman on a game show with straight shiny
anglo hair, cut in a neat bob and parted on the side with one barrette holding
it in place, almost exactly like Margot in The Royal Tenenbaums, except 30
years earlier. I adored her look. Oh, man, was I ever going to copy that style
for my photo shoot that week.
Day of my shoot I parted my thick bushy Puerto Rican
Irish hair to the side in a big tangled mess and put the barrette in place,
just like the lady had it. I put on a navy wool turtleneck with a zipper up the
front with a round metal zipper pull at the throat paired with a red wool mini
skirt and red tights and brown crushed patent loafers. I finished the look with
a yellow-smiley-face-with-googly-eyes-that-moved pendant on a long chain.
As I left for Kindergarten that morning, photo day, my
mother said that I needed to take off the necklace but I protested. She
squashed the argument by saying that it was too much metal for a photo and that
I could wear the necklace to school but I had to take it off for the photo, and
that if I didn’t the photographer would ask me to take it off anyway.
My heart beat in my chest as I defied my mother and
left on the necklace for the photo. I just could not bear to mess up the look.
I waited as my turn approached to see if the photographer would agree with my
mother and tell me to take the chain off. He did not. I still have the photo.
It is way too personal to share right now. It fills me with so many feelings.
Use your imagination.
Yes, tomorrow is photo day at kindergarten and my
little fashionista has her look picked out, including a green velvet glitter
dress. Like mother like daughter. Amen.
One time this biker gang member, who ran in some of the same circles as me, liked me and I was
sort of horrified. His gang
was the real deal and I was so not down with that stuff, the violence and un-reachable un-reasonable un-touchable separate-from-the-rest-of-the-human-race
quality. Not my thing. Never gonna happen, no way. One night he was walking past me in a nightclub and my fall (which if you don’t know, is a wig, a hair piece you wear with
your own hair to make it supersonic larger than life, long fat hair) got caught on all the
stuff on his leather jacket and his walking by jerked my head and mauled my
fall and he seemed really embarrasses as he and I had to untangle our selves. Tre uncomfortable.
Nothing ever happened but we did cross paths many times and once, at a friends request, he drove me home after a gig and helped
me get my Marshall amp up 4 flights, which was very kind. I needed the help. Later he was about to beat up an employee of
mine due to a misunderstanding, not kind, and I stepped in and cleared things up and saved the day. Urg.
Anyway, my impulse was very judgemental and
compartmentalizing, that’s what I do with everyone who might be an enemy or who
I might be scared of, for whatever reason. He is “blank”, stick him in that box and lock it, end of sentence.
Eventually, because we would be forced to interact several times, I had to figure out how to still see him as a human being while
keeping my boundaries. Boundaries can be like brick walls for me and again and
again I am asked to still have them, but with a little more breathing room. Its a great practice for me, a needed practice, and i appreciate the opportunity whenever it occurs, even though it i shard. Still a big challenge for me, it is easier for me to cut you off with an ax,
than to engage and politely have my boundaries, but I am getting better. Thanks. xxH
7th grade I think. He asked me out and I
said yes. I liked him but I was terrified of dating, of commitment, of the
unknown, of kissing for the first time. What exactly was expected of me? What
was I to do? How should I know? What the fuck were all these feelings, liking
someone and then all this other stuff?
He had walked me home, pin straight hair falling into
his eyes. He looked pretty good until I looked down. He had on pointy leather
lace up shoes and he had an umbrella. It had stopped raining and the ground was
a depressing damp. Sorry but that was a deal breaker right there- POINTY shoes
and an umbrella. I had already said I would go out with him, but I knew that I
needed to change my answer. I ran home and could not sleep all night knowing
what I had to do the next day. I could almost die from the anxiety of going out
with someone with those shoes.
The next day in school I broke up with him. Phew, it