Troll Princess

I tried to do a hair mask, last night, to disastrous result.  By disastrous, I mean that when I got up to wash my hair, this morning, I couldn’t wash out the oil from the mask.  I looked like I had soaked my head in Crisco overnight.  I couldn’t wash it four, or five more times and still get the child to school before lunch, so I used half a can of dry shampoo and called it a loss.

This means, my hair looked terrible at work today.

When it rains, it pours.  My skin looked terrible, too.  Bad hair.  Bad skin.  Just an overall feeling of looking like my neck had thrown up, and I wasn’t very happy about it.

Halfway through the day, a father came in with his little girl.  They were both having a rough time with each other, so I went over to engage the child while the adult did business. 

She was sugared up, but delightful conversation if you like talking about pink clothes, Frozen, and sparkle-shoes–which, I do.  We talked about how she had on all pink, but I was only wearing black.  Then, she reached over and touched my necklace and said, “You have gold, too.”  

I agreed, and she reached out and touched my earring.  “Gold there, too.”

I said yes, I had on gold jewelry.  Then, she reached over and took a lock of my hair and said, “And here.  The prettiest gold.  You have hair like a princess.  And your blue eyes.  You are just like a princess.”

Then, she grabbed me and hugged me, and asked if I’d like to hear her sing.  Yes.  The answer was yes.

She sang to me, then her father collected her.  I went back to my desk as they walked out the door.  So, it was a pretty big surprise to be nearly knocked off my feet when arms went around my thighs a minute later.  They had come back in so she could “hug the princess” again.

I still think I looked like an ogre all day, but, man…that little girl certainly made me feel special.  And made me feel a lot better about my hair.

Flying Monkeys

I took that Zimbio quiz to see which character I was from the Wizard of Oz. I got Flying Monkey. I am both proud of, and made worried by that.

Flying Monkeys are scarce, however. So, that’s fitting as I have been quite scarce. Work and wooliness have kept me from you, with all kinds of finalizing of edits on PLAYING ALL THE ANGLES (coming soon!!!), and keeping the temperature just right in every other pie I’ve managed to get a finger into.

I’ll have news about a cover reveal for the new book soon, until then, you can like the Facebook page for my romantic efforts: Nicole Lane Romance

You know, I still can’t believe I’m an honest-to-goodness published author. I thought the new would wear off after the first book, or at least it would become a little less magical. Nope. I’m still pretty googly-eyed over the whole concept.

You Better Work

the outside lane:

I just felt like this deserved another look.
I love it! I’m going to decorate it.

Originally posted on The Outside Lane:

I always forget how much I love Peter Murphy.  He came on the radio this morning, and I remembered.

I never forget how much I love RuPaul.

RuPaul came to my attention in the 80s, a couple of years before he popped up dancing in a B-52s video.  I can’t remember how I knew of him–it probably had something to do with my Andy Warhol obsession.  I remember being excited that he’d made it into a music video.  And you know that his song Supermodel was my interior theme music, don’t you?

I loved his look, loved his act, loved his charisma (and his uniqueness, nerve, and talent.)  It wasn’t until the internet that I got to find out how much I love his attitude.  RuPaul presents a lovely personhood.  I haven’t ever met him, so I can’t vouch for how closely life imitates his art, but I buy into…

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