Life Changes

So I'm sitting here making breakfast in my new kitchen thinking about how everything is so different now. Different from last month, and different from when this blog started. Life has changed, big time.

And though I haven't been on here that much, I think I might make more regular appearances now that there is a little bit more free time in my life. And maybe, just maybe, change some stuff up on the blog, too...maybe...

we have longer than what the calendar says...right?

We've barely started summer and already I'm realizing how quickly certain things are approaching. In June we had two weddings in one weekend to plan for and look forward to.  Two weeks later we celebrated fourth of July...though I still feel like that shouldn't have happened for another couple of weeks. This Sunday I anticipate hopping on a plane by my lonesome and heading out west where I get to spend the next week driving back east with my dear heart as we move him from a-school to duty station. Once we're back on the east coast there will only be 6 more weeks until our big day.

And just like that, the realization of just how little time we have left is hitting me hard. The anticipation of getting on a plane by myself (I'm not a huge fan of flying) is giving me a little anxiety...but I know for a fact that my prize at the end of about 9hrs of traveling is worth it's weight 10X over in gold. And the experience of driving across the country is one that I have always wanted to have, and will remember for the rest of my life! And honestly, how can I complain when I'll have his company all to myself for about a week. These will be the last moments we get to spend with one another before another short separation, followed by the hoopla of family descending upon our houses and wedding craziness and then moving craziness.

My brain is a little on overload right now. Anticipating things such as finishing up at my job and leaving them down one stylist in a very busy salon, putting the finishing touches to all the wedding plans and wondering if we're ever gonna fully be done, getting through the wedding, and then moving my whole entire life down Cape Hatteras, NC.

To their credit, some members of my family are pretty good at consoling me when i'm on the verge of an overload. But the only person who I really want to be consoled by, and who really can calm me down completely, is on crazy schedules making him mostly unreachable by phone during most of the day, and very much so out of my arms reach all the time.

I find myself missing silly little things like getting ice cream or driving to wendy's at 12:30am with him, and watching miscellaneous sitcoms we stumble upon and becoming die hard fans! I miss just driving do mundane places like the grocery store, with my feet on the dash and singing along to silly songs. Basically, I miss life with my best friend, and as we get closer and closer to our big day, it gets harder and harder in the "I miss you " department.
Like when you start to picture your significant other as your phone...oops.

60 more days, and counting!!!!

Now that she's back in the atmosphere...

Well, I'm back. And boy, what a trip...

It was an adventure. I relaxed. I ran around. Had some nice late night talks curled up at the kitchen table with a mug of tea. Had some crazy days spent hurrying here and there, never staying in the same place for more than a couple hours. I hung out with old friends, feeling like family. I met crazy awesome new people. I spent about 50 hours of my life on a train and am now pretty familiar with Amtrak...there and back I had a lay over in Chicago, and so was privileged to roam around the beautiful Windy City with 3 amazing dudes.

I left with little expectations, hoping to maybe just quiet my soul, listen to God, and visit my friends...and if God happened to nudge me in any direction, that would be awesome too.
I returned with a lot to think about.
While I was there opportunities arose. Internships came up. Chances to shadow at salons. As well as missions opportunities.

And ever since I got back a feeling has been growing in me...something that's always been there that now is spreading. I've never really been able to describe it, and it's frustrating. But the other night I was having a conversation with one of my best friends. One of those conversations that fall under the "If I don't get out of here soon I'll be stuck here for the rest of my life, that I don't know what I'm doing with anyways" category...I'm sure you have those all the time...

We talked about jobs. We talked about monotonous life. We talked about restlessness...We talked about senioritis.


Finally I tried to put this feeling that I had into words and it came out like this:

"...Do you ever get that feeling like...let's see if I can describe it - 

like, you were made for something more? That growing up, finishing school and getting a job and routine just wasn't what was intended for you? That you were created, not for something mundane and monotonous, but for something truly breathtaking and extraordinary? Cause...that seems to be how I feel. And like that desire for the extraordinary is trying to claw it's way out...like it's suffocating at the thought of never getting to see the sun...or maybe I just have to much of an imagination...?"

So...yep. That's where I'm at right now...perhaps this was a nudge in a direction...guess we'll see. 

The Bean*

*(I have now seen The Bean, one of Chicago's great works of modern architecture I am told...but secretly I'm pretty sure it's an idol to the Americans love of coffee...see for yourself. ;) )

This is my Therapy

"And you're kept in an open cage, So you're free to leave or stay.Sometimes you get confused, Like there's a hint I am trying to give you."

"talking bird" by Death  Cab For Cutie

Poorly drawn picture...by me.

I believe I've mentioned before about how much I love road trips, and have joked about having a touch of gypsy blood in me. I've expressed my restlessness of being in one place for too long (even though I always come back home.) I've talked about my longing for adventure and how I've made due by trekking through the rain and creating crazy story plots inside my head. 
And so...I find myself yet again feeling those stirring desires in my heart to go on an adventure and travel far far away...
I thought about it for a while, weighed my options, bounced thoughts and opinions off of close friends, prayed, and drank more than my outrageously large quota of coffee. 


The fact is, I still have no job. Let me reword that. I have no stationary job. No salon to call 'home', and not because there's a lack of salons or opportunities. When the Velvet Touch and I parted ways, somewhere in me, I felt peace. It was an odd and unexpected thing to feel upon losing a job. 
An opportunity for a stylist position in another salon arose, and I pursued it, but something about it just didn't feel right. It's hard to explain, but I couldn't shake it. Nothing came from this pursued position. But here's the beauty of it. My job doesn't have to be stationary! I can take it with me wherever I go...which means I can travel :) 


And so, after some deliberation, I have decided to go on my adventure. Finally. 
I have nothing that's holding me here. I have no salon to report to. No major responsibilities to look after. No relationships tying me down. So, I ask myself, why not? 


I've got a lot on my mind, and I'm a curious soul. Travel is a therapy to me. Staring out a window, watching the world pass by at blurring speeds, my mind seems to process things clearly. And so, I've purchased a train ticket, and next Sunday I begin my journey. To where? The Midwest. Kansas City, Missouri. Why? Because I have good friends out there (They're in the middle of an adoption, check them out and see how you can help contribute HERE!), and they belong to a church that I've been wanting to visit.


And so, I'm running away. Because I can. 

"I never thought I'd be driving through the country just to drive

With only music and the clothes that I woke up in

I never thought I'd need all this time alone it goes to show

I had so much yet I had need for nothing

But you

This is just therapy

Let's call it what it is

(Not what we were)

With a death-grip on this life always transitioning

This is just therapy

Cause you won't take my calls

and that makes God the only one who's left here listening to me

Letting it all sink in

It's good to feel a sting now and again

I hope it's one less woeful thing there is to fight through

Forgetting it all begin

Fresh paper and nice expensive pen

The past can not subtract a thing from what I might do

For you

Unless that's what I let it do

Loneliness and solitude are two things not to get confused

Cause I spend my solitude with you

I gather all the questions of the things I just can't get straight

And I answer them the way I guess you'd do

Cause this is my therapy

Cause you're the only one that's listening to me

This is my therapy

Let's call it what it is not what we were

With a death-grip on this life that's in transition

This is my therapy

Cause you won't hear me out

and that makes God the only one who's left here listening"

I tend to sing this when I start to get restless and need a road trip...so, on a pretty regular basis.

Keep Calm and Carry On

So. Here I am again....

Last Monday I went into my salon to work for the last time. If my client hadn't have been a personal friend I probably wouldn't have gone in at all and asked them to give the client to another stylist. They had let me know the Thursday prior. The economy just isn't supporting the both of us. And for an up-and-coming to be sitting, waiting, in a salon for perspective clients when 99.9998% of walk-ins are already regulars to another stylist there, well it's not really helping to build the clientele. 

So, I'm on the hunt. Again. While I am looking, I am running a small salon out of my home. It'd be stupid not to, seeing as I have all the equipment in my living room, except for a legit salon sink...but someday, maybe ;)

Even though I am technically jobless right now, I am strangely peaceful, and once again am reminded of how blessed I am with the friends God has given me. One by one, as I let them know about my situation, they each responded with different ways of comfort. 

A group of us went to a midnight movie premiere and giggled together for the three hours that we sat waiting. One called me within seconds of receiving the "I've lost my job" text, and even though the conversation was short, it was comforting to me that she cared enough to hop right on the phone to see how I was. And my best friend showed up at my house with a tall thermos of Carmel Coffee and we spent the afternoon, and some of the evening, around my kitchen table just talking about life.

I decided to not start looking for a job until after Thanksgiving. Taking the time to let it sink in, form a game plan, enjoy the holiday, food, and friends, and spend some quality time with my brother, Oliver, who was home from college for a few days. 

We went to The Muppet Movie the night it came out with a couple of our friends, we let our little brother tag along too, and BTW...it's hilarious. Go see it.

Yesterday I went over to a friends house and arranged a resume (this was actually fun!) and I realized that I love words....and that I had done much more with my talents than I had thought.

I also found out yesterday that one of my dear friends lost her job, too, so I called her up and we talked for a while. Our circumstances seem to parallel each other and I joke that this way it's easier for us to relate to one another. 

So, for now I'm trying to keep my head up, 'keep the dream alive', keep calm and carry on (as my British ancestors would say)...and all that. Giving up is not my name. My name is Industrious. My name is Diligence. My name is Perseverance. My name is Emily, and I'll be your stylist today. 

Look out world. Look out artsy industries. Here I come....again....

Tell me I'm not crazy, well maybe just a little bit....

I am pleased to say that autumn is here. And I gladly welcome it with open arms, steaming coffee, and comfy hoodies. Late September through early November continue to be my favorite months, and Fall my favorite season. The change is so tangible, expressed through colors, and smells, it refuses to be ignored. I find that my imagination goes wild as my senses explore this magnificent transformation.


Being a part-time employed gal, missing her brother, with some time on her hands and errands to do, I found myself adventuring through neighboring towns yesterday. Purchasing chemicals, picking up job applications, making bank runs, and visiting one of my favorite places in the world: the library. 


There I returned all my books, and went to find some new world to delve into. Success, I think. I left the great hall of literature with only two books in my bag this time, I had learned my lesson on over ambitious amounts of reading with lack of time to do so, and was intrigued by the story line of my new companions. (Happenstance Found, by P.W. Catanese, an author who apparently lives in CT, and The Wednesday Wars, by Gary D. Schmidt an author who does not live in CT ;)


I pushed through the double doors out into the gray, damp world of downtown Manchester. And as I made my way to my parallel parked car, leather boots sloshing through puddles, something about the whimsical plot of Happenstance tickled a corner of my brain....I pondered it the rest of the day as I listened to the pitter patter of rain on the windowpanes. Finally my imagination got the better of me. I grabbed an old notebook filled with loose papers and a tale of epicness in the the making,(a little story I had long since put down and nearly forgotten about) set up camp in my garage, and prepared for a walk in the rain.


 With leather boots laced up and a heavy barn jacket I strolled up towards my cul-de-sac. The street was deserted and lit by four or five dim lamps. The air was pleasantly fresh, and I lifted my face towards the sky inviting the rain to soak me. It may sound terribly odd, but trudging through dark streets in the rain can be quite invigorating. As I traveled up the street my mind went on many adventures. So many stories, so many possibilities. 


Returning to my garage I slouched down in a canvas chair, notebook in my lap, doors wide open, the sound of rain and chill of mist floating through. I sat there for the next hour familiarizing myself with old friends, and reconstructing new and exciting plot lines. Thinking up all sorts of adventures that I wish I could have. Once or twice my father came out with looks of confusion, amusement, and what may have been concern for my sanity. I was inspired. Blame it on the weather. Blame it on my new pair of scruffy leather boots. Blame it on boredom, or a lack of adventure. Blame it on my lunacy. I don't care. I had fun. 

I escaped for just a little bit, and it was most refreshing to do so.

Being Still, and Knowing...

Well hello there, land of bloggers. I come to you with a mind overflowing with wonderings. Within the past two weeks I have found myself to be befuddled with emotions, and thoughts. My brother graduated last weekend and will be leaving us in a couple months. I will be sad losing him to college, we are very close and I will miss his humor and company greatly. There is friend drama, as always, that leaves me confused and drained as I try to figure out where exactly I stand in all of it....And work....always work.

I was blessed with an amazing imagination and love of dreaming, but sometimes I wish I could just stop thinking. I've shared my frustrations and confusion with some of my closest friends.

Feeling vulnerable, and sharing what's really on my mind is not something I'm used to. I have this rather dangerous tendency to pretend that everything is fine on my end. Shutting emotions and troubles away in a box deep in the back of my mind. But I can only talk to my friends so much before I feel like I am vomiting the same conversations on them over and over and over! (Sorry for that mental picture....although, if you are picturing physical letters of the alphabet raining down on my friends, then by all means laugh...)

*thank you everyone who has visited me at the salon in the past two weeks, btw. You guys are awesome!

With all this rolling around in my head, becoming tangled and more confusing as it gets analyzed over and over, I have found myself mentally writing psalms, drinking way more coffee than is probably healthy(which probably isn't slowing my brain down at all) and spending vast amounts of time sitting on a very special couch that is living on my porch. This couch is a glider that has been around circa 1930? maybe earlier. As far as I know it has spent most of it's life rocking back and forth on the porch of the Upper Clubhouse, an ancient building in the middle of Harriman state park in upstate New York, until two years ago when the owners of one of the appartments in the upper clubhouse decided they wanted it thrown away. WHAT! But you can't have camp without the glider!

We came back to camp one evening to discover the huge wrap around porch empty of this nostalgic piece. My brother, who works as part of the maintenance team, informed us of it's relocation to the dumpster. I was upset. I loved this glider! I was ready and willing and trying to convince my family to drive down there and load it up in our van and drive home with it in the dead of night! We totally would've been able to get it home and be back before 4am....if we left 'now'.... My father wasn't really thrilled with my spontaneous plans for adventure, and told me to let it go...but with my ardent arguing I had planted ideas in the mind of my mother. So....we went to bed, I slept in the kitchen...or was it the common room....and woke up to find that my father's mind had been changed... So, my mother and I prepared for a quick escape. We loaded up the skeleton of the glider, much to the pleasure of some of the older camp members who had also grown up with the couch and hated to see it thrown away, and took off to home. We met my grandparents half way and they took it back to our house. The two of us were back at camp before late afternoon, both of us beaming with excitement for what would be waiting to greet us at home.

Yes. I stole the camp glider.

...It makes me wonder what now sits on the porch of this enormous old house that sits atop the hill that overlooks more or less the entire grounds of Camp K-20, a family camp that has been around for about 100 years.

My family and I have had the privilege of hiding out there for a couple weeks each summer for 6 or 7 consecutive years. Last year we couldn't go because of my school schedule, and we hope to at least chill for a weekend there this summer if we can.

But when you're up there, it's like you're hidden from the rest of the world. It's wonderful. It's quiet and peaceful and such an escape. (Escapeeeee'....that's funny, it's spelled just like 'escape'!) And it's a place where you do a lot of crazy stuff, reckless stuff, fun stuff, and a lot of thinking...No one seems to really care where you go, as long as you wander into the kitchen when you're hungry. Tabs aren't really kept, and there's a vast amount of freedom. (Probably because there's not too much trouble you can get into up there...) But on rainy days, the whole camp shuts itself away and becomes silent. People nap, sneak away to the 'real world' aka - walmart, or, if you're one of the lucky few who owns a tv up there, you watch movies. Me? I liked to make a cup of hot coffee, grab one of my dad's big comfy sweatshirts, and gently sway back and forth on the glider.

Something about being alone, inhaling the wet air, watching the rain fall while being sheltered by the porch roof, it was peaceful, calming. I felt like I was sitting there, alone but not alone, with my chest ripped open and my heart exposed. Everything in my confused mind made sense as I looked out over a hill covered in wild blueberry bushes and ancient forestry.

And right now, I wish I could escape' to that. I guess, it's what I call "Being still, and knowing."

But I guess I'll just content myself with another cuppa coffee, maybe some poetry, and a gentle sway on the glider as I be still and know some more...

I laugh in the face of 'danger'! Hahahaha!

"The count down begins at zero..."

That's right my friends, the State Board countdown has ended. Last Saturday, 11/13, I woke up earlier than my normal Saturday earliness and ventured to UHart with my mother. There I met with the 100 other cosmetology students waiting to take the boards. We were the first wave of Board takers that day, waiting for 8:00 to come so we could start. I wasn't really nervous that morning, more excited, and anxious for it to be over. Most of my nerves came out the day before when I pretty much had a breakdown in my theory room and was told to put all my flashcards and study papers away and just relax.

Of course sleep was really just a bad joke. It's not like I really thought of the test I would be taking the next morning. Actually, I was thinking of cutting techniques and color designs and people I could do them on...which was random.

I was pleased to find that not only was I joined by 4 other students from IIC, but 2 or 3 from our plainville branch. Seeing familiar faces puts me in a calmer place. At 8:00 we all sat down and waited for the last few stragglers to find their way in. At about a quarter after we opened our booklets and started to fill in all the little bubbles.

My heart was racing as I examined what I was facing, random facts and questions running through my brain as I tried to remember all my studying from the past 6 weeks. I looked down at the first two pages, each page had only four questions each. Ok, that's not too overwhelming. I read the first question and a smile appeared on my face. I know that!!!

I continued on through the test pausing for only two or three of the questions. Before we had started, one of the proctors had explained how the test was to be filled out, how it was graded, yada-yada-yada. The same sort of spiel that they give before any sort of multiple choice test. They had explained that we had two whole hours to finish, and they would set a timer to go off every hour. "By the time the first alarm rings, you should be on at least question 44. This way you are about half way done."

'Hurried' isn't the word I would use to describe my pace. I made it through the questions very quickly, not rushing. I was able to read the question and have the answer already in my head before I looked at my options. A grin graced my face all throughout the period I was there, a few chuckles even escaped my lips -the proctors probably thought I was crazy, or on drugs...

I had made it to question #1o1 and glanced at my neighbor sitting to the right of me, some dude I'd never seen before. There he sat, leaning over his test, clenching his pencil....staring...

My eyes followed his unwavering gaze, right to question #45.

I looked back at my test.

102.

103.

104...

105.

SEE YA DUDE!

I glanced quickly at all my little bubbles, making sure I had filled them all in, got up and brought my sheets to the front of the room where I handed them in and signed out. I was done!!! and before the first timer went off, before 9:00. I walked out of the room, smiling that I was the third one finished, but only by a minute or two.

The next hour was spent finding our way back to school...we got lost in Hartford...all parts. Then got stuck in the drivethru in a DD just down the road from my school...

My teachers laughed at me when I told them how simple the test had been. "I don't know why I was so worried yesterday!" They know I'm OCD about tests.

Now I wait. I've been told that the results should come on Tuesday or Wednesday. DUNDUNdun...

who says blondes have more fun?

Today I had the pleasure of coloring my friend Sarah's lovely hair. Her mother is a very gifted professional photographer, and I was over their house one afternoon practicing a vintagey pin-up-esque hairstyle on her youngest daughter for themed shoot we were scheduling when the topic of coloring hair came up. (To see her work, and the results of the shoot we worked on together click here:
http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fhalliewestcott.com%2F&h=c488c , http://networkedblogs.com/91rMH)

We went back and forth discussing different color options, which got me pretty excited. If you know me, then you know that working with color is one of my favorite things to do. We finally decided on some colors...and here are the results of today's fun... :)

Color. Me. Happy. :D

In The Beginning

The fateful day arrived this Tuesday(12/15/09) and was greeted with some nerves and much anticipation. Monday night I set an alarm on my phone to wake me up at 7:30 (since I've been waking up sometime between 8:15 and 10:00 for the past five months.) Strangely enough as I went to bed that night I felt fine. There were no butterflies in my stomach or tense nerves in any part of my body. Even my brain, which normally runs crazy analyzing and over analyzing and over anticipating was calm and relaxed. The only thing that had me really "worried" was that I didn't know which room to enter when I arrived.

I went to bed with a peace I've only experienced a couple of times, a peace and ease of mind that only comes from God. (Thanks God, I needed that, really)


[This is what it says on the back of our school shirts. Neat huh?]

I slept soundly, though my body was still full of expectancy, but was wide awake come 7:00 a.m. My alarm hasn't gone off yet... I thought groggily as I contemplated just laying in bed, but my nervous system was too pumped and ready to go, so I hopped out of bed and headed to the shower. Surprisingly I was in and out before my alarm (which was now set for 7:15 after I added a Snooze Allowance [ ;) ]) had gone off. Hmmm, I did that really quickly!
It's not that I take long showers, but I do like to just kinda stand in the warm water for a while. But when ones nerves are excited and they know they're in a time crunch miracles can happen :D

My father and I jumped in the car and raced off to the International Institute of Cosmetology(herein after known as International or IIC, or just school). We arrived about 15 minutes earlier than planned. I tried to open both the front and back door and found that they were locked. We waited a little longer until we saw some of the other not-as-new-as-I-am students go in.
It felt odd getting out of the car, in an unfamiliar and strange place, and having my dad drive away with an "I love you" and "goodbye." Now I was on my own.
I walked into a room with stations set up along the entirety of each wall. Each station had a large black gym-like bag, a black and metal case(like what they use in special agent movies), and seven boxes stacked on top of the counters. I was directed to the space the kits with my name on top and took a seat. We were encouraged to take part in the "welcome" continental breakfast - consisting of DD doughnuts and coffee.
We all sat at our stations, quietly sipping our December 2009


We all sat there quietly sipping our very hot coffee as one of the directors explained dress codes and how to clock in and out of school. (It's pretty cool, we each have our own code and there's a machine that reads the length and size of our hands to make sure that someone else isn't clocking us in and out)

As the day progressed we went over all our equipment and mannequins, eventually wetting down one of our SEVEN mannequin heads. (It was really creepy loading them all into the trunk, individually wrapped in clear plastic bags at the end of the day...) That afternoon we learned two ways of sectioning, and how to section each part of those sections.

That awkward first day ended silently as we all packed up our 50 lbs. of new stuff and headed home with stiff backs and aching feet.

Here are some of the goodies I brought home that day :D

These are my Le' Marca hair shears. These are very professional, and very sharp, scissors that I will be using on real people when I reach the mark of 200 hours of training and go from mannequins to humans.

aren't they pretty?

This is one of my two straight razors. Don't worry, I'll be trained properly and have enough mental health so when I get to use them I won't pull a Sweeney Todd...on most people.

This is Jesus (or John the Baptist) my male mannequin. Each mannequin has it's own little punny name on the back of their neck, but this guy has some weird ghetto name that starts with M...but for the life of me I can't remember what it is, but it doesn't matter cause he doesn't look like the name they gave him, so I changed it ;)

Plop went the mannequins, ready for inspection by my family. My dad wanted to sit them in our windows, next to the Christmas window candles, to freak out the neighbors. Oh dad.

all my junk.

My fancy smancy kit.

this is the little emo guy emblem of IIC.