my sweet Lucky

Some of you know, most of you don’t; my cat back home has been sick for a bit. Yesterday my parents had to put him down, marking the second time my pet was put down and I was thousands of miles away.

My Dad found Lucky at work and brought him home for my little brother and I. He was just a little kitten, seriously skittish and not too fond of strangers. But that cat was smart.

Like a dog, Lucky would come up to you and meow while touching your arm with his paw when he wanted something. If you weren’t in the room with him, he’d track you down and meow until you followed him to where he wanted to be. He loved getting petted when he came in the house. Not loved, insisted. Mom, that was awesomely annoying to train him that way.

He wasn’t a hunter like Stickers, but instead let her kick his ass on the reg. Poor guy. So when Stickers passed, Lucky was the king of his jungle and he loved it. Consequently, he became a lot more needy.

While watching Cats 101, I learned that he was an Egyptian Mau and those bad boys go for lots of money and win cat shows. Too bad Lucky didn’t have the temperament for it.  Hating people is not a trait that a winning cat possesses.

Lucky, we’ll miss you. I won’t miss the meowing at 4am though. Well, when I’m at my parents house.

notice anything? anything

What is up my readers?

Do you notice anything different around these here parts? Above, below, over here ——>???

I could NOT be more thrilled with how my new blog has turned out! I love the crap out of it. Working with Danielle was awesome, as usual. We did get a little nutty a few times and only went through like 500 different color combinations but the final product? Holy amazing.

Honestly, if you’re thinking of getting a little pick-me-up for your blog or a total massive re-haul, look no further than Danielle. I heart her, long time. And obviously I mean that in the most non-perverted way possible. Well, maybe I don’t.

So go ahead and follow me to your right and take a look around! I still have a lot of organizing to do but I was so excited I couldn’t wait.

Danielle, you’re mah homegirl. You’re the bomb.com. Sometimes you are funny and sometimes if you force it, things will get awkward. But this site is dope and you ain’t no poser. That’s for sheezy. 

i’m getting a makeover

I’ve been keeping a secret. A big secret. But now I’m getting so excited I can help but shout it from the mountain tops. I’m reminded of a great man who once said “I’m in love, I’m in love, and I don’t care who knows it!”

This blog will be moving but hopefully that will go smoothly. Fingers crossed. To where? We’re moving to blogger! So now all of you that bitched at me for not being easy to follow can shut the hell up.

The best part? It’s going to look ill as crap. Mah homegirl, Danielle, is laying those fresh to death graphics down and it’s going to be dope.

How sweet is my graffiti. I mean, come on. Let’s discuss. Dollar signs? Get out of town.

In later news, it’s freaking FRIDAY. I’ve had “one of those weeks” and I know a lot of you have as well. Here’s hoping the weekend is awesome. It’s supposed to snow here but that gives me an excuse to break in my cute Sperry’s.

Boom! goes the Dynamite.

saturday at arrojo

For those of you who follow me on instagram, this is old news. However, I am a realist and know that not all of you do. Although secretly I wish you did. O.k., maybe not secretly.

I met up with my homegirl, Amy, on a lovely Saturday morning (two weeks ago, to be exact). Except it wasn’t that lovely. I woke up late, the subway was all screwed up and some assclown locked me in a turn-style with him because “that’s what you get for cutting people off”. Needless to say, I did not respond politely to that douchewad. To be honest, I wanted to punch him in the face but as he was a rather large African-American man, I let logic get the best of me. That was not a fight I cared to start. Well, he started the verbal one and I ended it. The fact that he shouted “bitch” as I walked away is inconsequential.

When I finally got to Arrojo, my spirits were lifted. The space = amazeballs. The staff = all freaking nice as crap. Yes, nice as crap. Write that down. It’s like nice, times a million. Amy = freaking pretty with awesome hair. I knew the day could only get better.

Rachel was petrified at my mop, yes, mop of hair. She was thinking “ugh, really with all this one layer hair-do? this girl looks like a hippie and not in a good bohemian way”. She later said that she was terrified I was going to be one of those girls who was totally attached to the one-layer do. For serious, I told her she could do whatever she wanted. And no, I don’t usually go 9 months between trims. That’s…just…gross.

So she washed it up. Which was amazing because if you know me you know I am…ahem…lazy?

Then she literally cut a ton of my hair off with a razor. I won’t lie, I was kinda freaked out but oddly calm at the same time. When she was done she showed me the easiest, most amazing blow out of all time. Seriously…check this out.
Ta da! Amazing, right? And no round brush involved. Rachel is amazing!!! Needless to say, I’ll be back…um forever.