I am so, so excited to be partnering with Ouidad to host a Scary Curl Contest for all my fellow curly girls. Not only will one winner receive a trip to NYC for a curl makeover session at the flagship salon, (I had one a few months ago and it was amazing) they will also receive spa treatments, spending money, two nights at a swanky hotel and tickets to my official book launch party, hosted by Ouidad. Yes, my favorite line in the world is throwing me a book launch party and I want you to come.
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It’s a well known fact that I have a deep appreciation for certain four letter words. I always have, I always will and with the exception of some Pollyanna people on Facebook, it’s never been much of an issue with anyone in my life.
Except, that is, for my phone.
For years, my iPhone has been not so subtly suggesting that I clean up my foul language. When I innocently ask “What the fuck,” my phone seems to think that “what the duck?” or “what the fickle?” is just as effective. It swaps out “shot” when I type “shit” and even had the audacity to once correct my mistyped “asshole” to “appalling.” Appalling, indeed. Asshole.
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Every single school day, The Happy Mother walks her dog and two children along our route to the neighborhood school. Her kids are typical kids, not particularly spotless or notable, and I’m pretty sure I once saw the brother knock over his sister and laugh about it. They’re kids, just like mine. But, it’s the mom that strikes me day after day after day after day as I ride by hissing at my own offspring. And, why? Because she’s smiling, ear to ear, every damn time I see her.
I look at her laughing with the kids, holding the dog leash in one hand and a coffee cup in another and wonder how she manages not only to bear that uphill walk, but to actually seemingly enjoy it. I wonder if she notices me at the same intersection every day, with the exhausted look in my eyes and the sulking kids in the backseats. Does she wonder why I have to yell at them? Why we’re not happily playing word games or discussing world peace like they probably are? Does she think she’s better than me? Does she even see us? No, I’m sure. Most likely she doesn’t even notice me because she’s too busy being… happy.
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