This wand business

I have never ever been a beauty queen. Or claimed to be one. I was always more of a sweatpants-hair tied-no make up-but I got 20 minutes of extra sleep-girl. Sleep is very important folks, both for my skin and my no maintenance personality. 

I always envied the girls I saw in high school, and in college that looked like they got up 3 hours early just to wash their dry, blow dry it, straighten/curl it, tease it, put make up on, find a fashion designer, get their outfit made, find shoes to go with it, match perfect accessories with their outfit and voila. Beauty queens. They were the Regina Georges, I was Cady Heron before the makeover. (Mean Girl reference..people, get with the prog.)
Anyway..Now, it's my time bitches. I had a coworker tell me about her curling wand and I never really paid any attention to her until she came into the office at 7am with her hair curly, her make up intact while I looked like a wildebeest. I'll admit, I was bash her in the head type a little jealous. I asked for pointers because it looked like she spent hours on it when she assured me her long, thin hair took only 5-10 minutes of her time.
So I decided to order one and try it. HOLY SHIT PEOPLE! This is serious business. My hair is long, and it's semi thick because I am balding (insert any old hag joke here), but it literally took me 10 minutes to do my whole hair and apply my makeup this morning. I am in love. I thought I would never utter those words to any beauty product..because let's face it, I was never going to fucking waste my sleep..but, but FOR CEREAL, I am in love.

I mean aren't those curls uh-may-zing?! Yes, I am such a dork but I am so friggin' excited about this development in my life. All you heifers are getting married and having babies. I'm over here like check out my push-ups, look at my curls and check out my pics while I travel the world, bitch.

Toodles!

Move over, fat ass

Okay, so most of you know I have been losing weight since last year and the last time I blogged anything healthy was that I was 138or9 lbs.

Well, today I come to you weighing at a whopping 150lbs and UNHAPPY! I have gained most of my weight back and it's a little discouraging. I have been going to the gym as frequently as I can, which used to be every day and now I'm good if I can get a couple of days in. Many people are saying I am just building muscle and it weighs more than fat bla bla bla. I say I'm just back to being a fat ass who needs to go back to calorie counting.

Seriously?! This weight problem is annoying. I mean Jesus H. Christ on wheels, I have battled with it my whole life. Can a girl get a fucking break? It seems like I take one step forward and two steps backwards.
Well, it's time to fucking do something about it. From today, I am trying to eat better, cook more, eat junk less, be more active, be less bitchy (moderately less), be more happy! I am leaving for Bosnia in a month and a half and I want to have a fabulous body when I get there. Or at least, one I can be kind of proud of.

You don't understand..My people are judgmental little fucks. They are all thin and beautiful back in the mother country; high heels and motherfucking tiaras. I am NOT even exaggerating. I need to be HOT! Okay, enough of my pity party. I just need to stop whining and do it. I hate cooking with a passion. When it comes to cooking for myself, I'd rather skin a bear. It's not that I don't have a sense for it; I mean anyone can Google a recipe and copy it. It's just that I'm fucking lazy and want it fast. When my belly grumbles and lets me know "hey we're hungry", I want food then, not wait a damn half hour prep time, hour cook time and 15 minutes cleaning time. I want it NOW! 

Also, grocery shopping?! Ain't nobody got time for that!

In other news, lookie what my family did. Extremely proud of both of them for sticking by their promise and getting the tattoo with me. My older sister is a different story. Chickenshit.

20 years later

So, 20 years since I've been back to my hometown in Bosnia and I am nervous. I am travelling in May and coming back in June with my sister and my mother. My father doesn't know I'm coming and neither does my grandmother. I want it to be a nice surprise. I have many emotions running through me about going back. I just hope I can handle it. If you don't know why I am nervous, shame on you for not keeping up with World news and if you are younger than 20 years old, disregard that comment.

In 1992, war broke out in Bosnia and many of us were chased out of our homes, our families and friends were killed and we left our country in refuge for a better tomorrow. My sister and I had to leave after the war was over in 1995 and we moved to Croatia to be with our father.
Many of my memories are suppressed deep down and it will take years of therapy to recollect all of the things I forgot. Not to mention, many of us have undiagnosed PTSD and it affects us daily in our lives. Most of our people found refuge in America and it wasn't easy starting a new life. We dealt with prejudice, religious bashing, nightmares and general terrorizing from the American people. Don't get me wrong; not everyone was the same. There are some genuinely good human souls out there. I am forever thankful to live here and be safe, but not everyone feels the same about us being here. We are intruders, job-stealers, terrorists, corrupt, ugly reminders of the past.

Now, after 20 years I am going back to the place that started it all. Going back to the place where my memories lie buried, to the place that set the standards of my growing up. I had the best childhood growing up. We didn't have distractions like kids today have. We were raised to respect, work hard and to stand up for what we believed in. We had happiness; genuine, innocent friendships. I miss my family and want to see them! But..I'm scared. I'm scared that the memories will come rushing back and I will come unhinged. I'm scared that I may go and not come back the same person I've become or worse.

I hope this trip opens my eyes, brings my memories back so I can remember where I came from and instills all of my family morals further. I hope it's a growing experience instead of just revealing scary skeletons in my closet.

I hope...I'll keep you updated.