Electrolicious

I wrote this for my friends at Vain to post on their blog, but I wanted to share it here, too

I’m a marketing manager in my mid-30s. I work on the Eastside in a windowless office where I do stuff like social media campaign strategy (zzz), PR planning (*blink blink*) and mulling the return on investment of corporate communication strategies (yawn!). I go to tech industry conferences and speak about public relations (honk-shooo).

…I also have bright pink hair.

Almost three years ago, I made an appointment with my beloved Jenny Slay, who’s been doing my hair ever since I hacked off my rainbow dreadlocks in 2001. In late 2005, my hair was long, straight and medium brown, and I told Jenny “I like it long, but I’m bored with my natural color. But I hate doing root maintenance! I want less boring, but low maintenance.”

Jenny’s solution was to bleach the tips of my hair, and then dye the ends with Special Effects’ Atomic Pink. So, for the last three years, the bottom six inches of my hair has been flamingly bright pink.

It’s incongruous, I guess: a 30something professional with pink hair. But honestly, the pink hair fits perfectly into my professional life, and I wish more established professionals would go for wild colors.

Here’s a short list of why:
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It was 85° yesterday, and Andreas and I were walking four blocks from our house to dinner. I noticed he had his backpack on, and asked “What’s with the big ol’ backpack? Are we going somewhere after dinner?”

He looked at me and thought. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t need anything in my bag at all. I guess it’s just habit.”

I had to laugh, because it’s true. Dre’s famous for pulling on thick socks and his work shoes when it’s broiling hot out and he’s wearing shorts, just because he’s used to that. His brain is like “Whaaaat? You mean, I own flip flops?!”

I mean, I’m a creature of habit too … so I almost get it. But not quite. I’m not so much a creature of habit that I lock the door while I’m pumping gas, which is another thing Dre does without thinking. (Exit car, lock door.)

When I mulled over my own habits, Dre stopped me and clarified. “You like routines,” he said. “But you’re not blindly habitual like me. You seem to actually almost enjoy every little detail of your set ways.”

While that’s not totally true (I can go autopilot as much as anyone else), I do get a sick pleasure out of my routines. I like gloating over the efficiencies as I run through my patterns, noticing the minutes I’ve shaved off of my tea making routine (so effective!), and marveling at my own cleverness when I perfectly anticipate a need — say, having chapstick at exactly the right dry-lip moment (so smart!).

It may all come down to self-absorption. While Dre’s brain is thinking about history and politics and music as he pulls on his huge, unneeded backpack, I’m ticking through my lists thinking, “Are my lips dry? Are my feet hot? Does my back hurt? In a few hours, might I have a headache and want some Ibuprofin?”

This is the log cabin I was raised in. My parents built it in 1977, when I was 2 years old. It’s all cleaned out for new tenants — I’ve never seen it empty!

People, I am tired. This weekend Dre and I drove to Missoula for his step-mother’s memorial. 16 hours of driving round trip with 36 hours of intense life and death and babies and memorials and hot solstice sun and all the stuff that comes along with family but, like, times 10 and with some PMS thrown in.

I’m also undergoing an experiment — my beloved Sidekick 3 is dying, and I’m trying a Tmobile Dash from work for a while until I decide what I want to do next. (First person to suggest iPhone gets a kick in the nuts. I need a tactile keypad, so please shut up already about the iphone. It’s awesome for you. It’s not what I want.) It’s amazing to me how switching communication systems (ie pda/phone) impacts my emotional state. I mean yes granted: I was in an emotional place this weekend literally and figuratively and hormonally. But I couldn’t help but observe how having an unfamiliar communication system only added and amplified my emotions — CAN’T CHECK EMAIL HOW I NORMALLY DO. FREAKING OUT.

God. I’m so delicate sometimes.

I think I just need some time at home, which may not be in the cards for a while. July has me going to Boston for work, probably LA for some offbeat bride development stuff, Montana again, and then our summer camput. BUH!? I love summer, but I sure do get tired…

Again with the delicacy.

Ariel (if she were a Japanese tourist)
Originally uploaded by Andreas Fetz.
Last weekend Andreas took me to Victoria, B.C. for a late Birthday getaway. We had a great time being tourists and taking photos and enjoying the friendly Canadianess of the city. O Canada: It’s where everyone’s nicer.

Anyway, here are my pics, and here are Dre’s. Not captured: me barfing on the Clipper.

The magic shelves
Originally uploaded by .Ariel.
My outlaw mother has just about finished the shelves she built in our living room. I am in organizational heaven right now, just gazing at them and dreaming how all our books and plants and tchochkes will sit.

We are so blessed!