Beautiful Brows (And Winter Ramblings)

Hello, hello, and happy Friday! So. Here’s what’s been on my mind lately. Prepare yourself for some deep thoughts. Dear readers, I pose a question for you:

{Seriously?}

How does one grow out their eyebrows without looking like a squirrelly hobo who forgot to get her eyebrows waxed? I mean, Lord knows that I have the follicles to work the brows, but I can’t go more than 10 days without cleaning them up. (I wish I had a pic on hand of me in 7^th grade...I had caterpillars, people. Big, dark caterpillars, creeping on over my eyes.) I’ve read articles on eyebrows and how you’re supposed to use makeup to fill them in during the interim and let them grow-grow-grow in nice and thick, but…no. I mean, I don’t allow myself enough time in the mornings to try and shade in my brows. I barely allow myself enough time to get dressed and drink half a cup of coffee in the mornings, so I highly doubt I will get myself up 10-15 minutes earlier to shade and contour, as directed by the tutorial above. So this is obviously a huge dilemma for me, currently. Also, on a side-slash-kind-of-related note, Cara Delvigne is totally my girl crush right now. She is so darn pretty, and her brows are to-DIE.

 

Okay, I know this is a short and totally random post—I’m stretching my writing muscles and getting back into the habit of getting my thoughts down. I feel like January kind of a terrible month. February, too. But January…man, January. It’s cold, the sun goes down at 5 o’clock, all you want to do is eat salty, carby things and snuggle on the couch with a cozy blanket. (I’m hoping this isn’t just me.) Rascal does things like catch mice in the cold garage and bring them into the kitchen and let them go…and the little mice think, “ah man, it’s sure warm in here! I think I’ll stay and live under the refrigerator,” and then I am shrieking and trying to coax these dang mice out with a broom. (This happened. Last night.) And I always feel like January makes me feel restless. I want a change…I want to vacation somewhere; I want to find a new job; I want to cut my hair; I want to redecorate my house; I want to move to a new city; I want to make my life different in every way I can…and then, when I don’t (because, really, some of these changes are ridiculous—and expensive), I feel bummed. And defeated. And unmotivated. And very…blah. And then, when March finally comes and it warms up and I can have drinks on a patio and take walks outside and smell fresh grass and the sun doesn’t sink down until 7ish or later, I feel better. I feel happy. I look forward to whatever I’m doing. I don’t want to move to Dallas, because gosh darnit, it’s too hot there in the summer anyway. I want to write about my weekends for the blog. I want to vacuum because the sun is shining and I love the way it comes through the windows and reflects across the floor. I love running errands because it’s fun to find a surprise at Target. And I am content. But these 60 days of January and February…these guys just drag, and drag, and drag…

 

So…I’m going to write this here and hopefully my written optimism will transfer to my physical self. Here’s to some sunshine and to these winter months moving forward just as fast as their cold weather can blow them on outta here. I plan on spending the weekend soaking up some friend-time, family-time, and cocktail-time, and pretending that a bloody mary indoors in January is just as good as a John Daily at Woodside by the pool.

 

 

{Cara 1&2/3/4}