Today I made a decision:

I am throwing away my toothpaste.

After spending an afternoon reading article after article on the dangers of fluoride, I made my first proactive lifestyle decision.

Before you go spouting off about the possibility that I may just be paranoid, or gullible, or simply ridiculous for making such a big deal over a substance that has been in our drinking water since before I was born, let me assure you that I have done everything in my power to ever avoid giving up my Crest toothpaste for Tom's, simply because it tastes better and leaves my mouth feeling cleaner.

I do not enjoy finding out that I'll have to change up my routine (even if it's a matter as simple as brushing my teeth) because, Oops, sorry folks! We -the people in charge of your public health- "forgot" to tell you that fluoride causes long term health effects such as bone disease, brain damage, endocrine problems, kidney problems, and cancer, while also having little to no positive impact on teeth, and, in excessive amounts- actually damaging them.

In addition, I'll definitely be drinking as much purified water as I can. Though, many plastics and packaging also contain fluoride. It's pretty distasteful that it's impossible to get away from completely.

I even found an article in which scientists were discussing the possibility of adding lithium to our water, claiming that it decreases suicides, even though it's only a thousandth of the minimum pharmaceutical dose!

What's wrong with good old H2O? Do we really have to drug our water? Shouldn't we finally be getting to the root of the epidemic that causes people to need these drugs to begin with?

I won't preach much more about this, but if you're interested in knowing more about it, please visit Fluoridealert.org

This week, I'll be trying my hand at mixing up my own toothpaste. I'm rather excited, actually:

Coconut oil (natural antibacterial and antifungal, excellent for gums)

Baking soda (neutralizes acids that are at the root of tooth decay and absorbs odor)

Peppermint or Spearmint oil (optional, but as a fan of that fresh tingly feeling, I will definitely be using one of these)

Stevia (also optional)

Voila! I'll let ya know how all that pans out.

The upside to this is that I think this will push me to be more self-sufficient, and more DIY. I generally try to be aware of what is going on around me. Sometimes though, in fact, most of the time, awareness is not enough. I don't know why I chose to start with my toothpaste, but this is the birth of a more proactive me.

I think that is something to be proud of. :]

Still waiting for some feedback on all these stressors!

I know you are all probably real busy with work and/or heading back to school or feeding your dog and whatever else... but if you get a chance, shoot me an email or comment. You could even rant a bit if you want to, I'm an excellent listener, and have a knack for with-holding judgement, as well as keeping things private. I'd just like to gain insight into what keeps people from actually going crazy. Or if it is rather crazy of a person not to go crazy in the society we live in. There's a whole sloo of questions that will come from this question alone, which I think is entirely important at this point in time. Puh-lease get at me.

To end this entry on a much lighter note, here are some things I've been looking at lately:

My hunger for another tattoo is growing stronger with every moment I stare at this last photo.

What a day, what a day...

The hard drive on my computer decided to crash last night.

After a frustrating morning of my own attempts at playing Mrs. fix-it, I finally bit the bullet and took the poor thing over to the apple store. $180 later, I had a new hard-drive. I'm not complaining about the price because I was expecting it to be around 400 or 500 given it was no longer under warranty- but, alas, there was a bit of silver lining to this whole technological disaster.

Took a shower and pulled a clump of hair about the size of a date out of my head.

Alarming.

I've always shed quite a bit- but not like this.

Why is my hair falling out?

Naturally, like any good hypochondriac, I consulted webmd.

Alopecia. Hypopituitarism. Or just good old fashioned hair loss.

I suppose a typical reaction to the amount of hair I've been losing- especially for a young woman- would be to cry. And I definitely have felt at moments that I wanted to.

But, I remind myself, it's still just hair: at least you aren't going blind or deaf and have all your limbs.

There are always wigs.

Then again, I'm getting way ahead of myself assuming I'll be losing all my hair, or even a noticeable amount.

Either way though, I'm losing a considerable amount and it's quite mysterious.

I alerted my boss, who is a hairstylist, and I went in to get a small trim.

She seemed to think it was all due to stress.

I didn't know whether that was good or bad news.

How does one manage stress in modern day America?

My therapist has spent the whole summer dishing out advice on this very thing. (A bonafied gem of a lady, btw.)

But still, I am bonded ever-more deeply, no matter how good I've become at appearing collected, at harboring a category 5 hurricane inside me.

I won't spend the entire entry trying to convince all of you that my stress levels are exceptionally greater than anyone else's, or more valid; they aren't.

Rather, I'd really like to know, what is everyone's number one stressor, and number one way of relieving stress?

I know it's a rather vague question with perhaps some very obvious answers, but that's sort of the point.

You can comment here, email, or twitter. (Email: loveseablog@gmail.com)

Be honest! I think it would be interesting, and maybe helpful to know, even though obviously we are all different and experience and deal with things in our own ways, what the common ground is, why, and how it can be changed.

Surely, life doesn't have to be this complicated.

On another note, if my hair does decide to stop running away from me, I, for the first time in my life, have a hair goal. I know, it sounds silly, but a hair goal is just what I need to keep me from my spontaneous attraction to scissors. So, By George, do not let me cut my hair.

Oh, and Kate Moss got married.

Just stepping out of a vintage rolls royce, no big deal.

Love the wicker garden tea set, especially fond of the veil.

PS. I just realized this is the second post in 3 days that I've included pictures of Kate Moss. Rare occurrence.

charm city, city charm.

Did a little joiner of some old photos I took this past winter when I first got my Diana Mini. Need to start using it more and really get to know all of it's quirks. I've yet to master getting a full roll developed without 50% of the images (accidentally) being overlapped.

These were taken at a bar in Baltimore called Mt. Royal Tavern. I don't know what it is about little hole-in-the-wall places that are so charming and alluring. It's literally across the street from MICA (Maryland Institute College of Art, for those who are unfamiliar) and while in the evenings it attracts many a MICA student- apparently- I've only been there that late a couple of times- during the days it attracts the nuttiest, most hilarious, certifiably genius crowd of elders.

I love the electric blue bar top with coins etched into it (though many are mere wooden holes since, as one bartender puts it "those goddamn mica kids are always picking them out.")

I've met the most delightful people there- though I suppose most people are more delightful with a beer in hand... but some, can be just the opposite.

A handful of regulars who you quickly know by name, greet you as you walk in the door, and everyone is there to laugh, share stories, and have a good time.

It also has an especially awesome juke box selection. Patsy Cline, mhm.

One man, who was probably pushing late 80's if I remember correctly, teeth missing, hearing impaired, memory lacking, spent an afternoon telling me about his time in the military, his time living in Spain, his love of bull-fights, and how he should have married the woman he fell in love with there.

(He was never married.)

It's rare for moments like that to find you. The ones when you're in the right place at the right time, and there's someone next to you who's willing to tell you the story of their life.

I suppose his age probably had a lot to do with it. His son was there, and seemed a little less fascinated, I'm willing to bet he's heard those stories many times.

But I really enjoy the wisdom and pictures that those who've seen a lot more life than I have can offer me, especially if they're great story-tellers. I could see every last detail in my head, as he was explaining the food his girlfriend's family would cook, and feel the panic in my bones when he talked about bulls ramming into people.

I've tried to find a bar as charming in Houston, but have come to realize that every city has it's own unique charm, which is what makes those rarities so special.

I have a whole new place to explore, and I'm going to take more advantage of that.

On another note, I came across this today in Free People. I never thought I would admire Vanessa Hudgens' little sister's wardrobe but... I do. There, I said it.

by iain mckell

some of my favorite things:

thrifty bedside table, preview international patent leather stilettos (the only pair i own, they make me feel unstoppable), steve madden motorcycle boots, my slicky (if you know me well, you already know how special this is...i'll leave it at that ;]) perfume samples from my favorite fashion magazines, my journal, old family photographs, letters from jj accrocco on pretty stationary, the miseducation of lauryn hill, souvenir coco mango lotion from a nice hotel, taupe nail polish, scarlet nail polish, neroli jasmin perfum from the body shop, my $2 antique string of pearls, elf shimmering skin illuminator, the key string to my fan that i wear as a necklace, metal seashell necklace, denim vests, peppermint gum, floral print planner, my phone, quarters, zebra patterned tights, cream irridescent feaux leather wallet gifted by my friend carli, aviators, blank cds, mad men dvds, ernhest hemingway-the sun also rises, truman capote- breakfast at tiffanys (reading now, loving it more than the movie) jd salinger- franny and zooey, the diary of anne frank (i know, sort of a strange favorite, i've read it dozens of times), the trouble with angels vhs, tea light candle in cermic holder, diana mini camera, bottle of granacha, breakfast at tiffanys dvd, la vie en rose dvd, the way we were dvd, the first and only painting i've ever painted since elementary school (covered by books and dvds for good reason, but i really enjoyed making it)

it's strange to see all these things laid out on a tabletop smaller than my pillow, and to know how comforting all these things have been to me in the littlest ways.

The other day at work, a girl around my age came in to get her hair all shaped up before heading back to school for the fall. She came in, skin cancerously tan, shorts inching a little too far towards her butt, keys clicking, gum smacking, walking straight past me before I could greet her or offer her a beverage, and went and sat in the seating area in the stylist's room, where she exchanged "Omg, HIIIII!!!"s with who I shortly realized was her sorority sister, whom I had spent a little time speaking to at the shampoo bowl just prior to her friend's arrival.
Nothing heavy, just polite conversation about where she went to school, what she was majoring in, etc.
She was a nice, sweet girl, innocence still fully in tact; you could tell by her smile, so genuine, as if it hadn't left her face since the day she was born.
I know it's a lot to assume about someone over a few minutes with their soapy hair in your hands, but it's surprising the things you learn about people when you find them in a place of relaxation. Some like to talk, some like the silence, some seem nervous- perhaps that I'll get water in their ears or won't wash the conditioner out thoroughly-who knows, and some remain unaffected (this is shampoo. that is all.)
By all apparent accounts, this girl simply seemed young. She too, could have only been a couple years younger than me, if that. But I felt much older standing next to her. Not in a superior, demeaning sort of way. Just that I felt like maybe my face had a wrinkle or two on it, or that my eyes maybe a littler duller than hers, a side affect of awareness that comes with the surge of heartbreak, lessons learned, lessons you're still learning; life.
I could feel the slightest pang of sadness in my gut, of what it was like before, when I smiled because that's just how my face was.
And I wondered, and hoped, that she would always stay that sweet.

Her "sister", on the other hand, could have been death herself. In fact, since I don't remember her name, we'll just call her Death. Her grand enterance into the salon, was already enough to make me tell myself, "Don't judge her just because she tans too much, drags her feet when she walks, and smacks her gum obnoxiously." No, I decided, that is simply not fair.
So, I carried on with my usual tasks, deciding to confirm the next days appointments before the day came to a close.
Unfortunately, my desk was a stones-throw away from Death, who had plopped herself on a chair near her sister, Sweet girl, who was still sitting in the salon chair getting her hair hilighted for the second time.
I was not prepared for the utterly distracting comment that would send me stumbling through my words in the middle of a voicemail I was leaving for Mrs. So-and-so, that she please let us know if she would be making her appointment tomorrow.
I could hear chatter and laughter over this and that, and then, like stepping in a pile of shit, I wasn't sure if I had actually just heard what I thought I heard.

"Oh my god, yes! I was JUST talking about how much I despise mexicans!"

I'm sorry, what?
What... did you just say?
I thought, for moment, that my mouth was going to open involuntarily, and some foul things were going to come out.
How are you so medival? So cruel? And stupid? Do you live in this century? Who is your mother? What's wrong with you?

I could feel my heart leaping out of my chest. It was time to leave the room.
I could hear them all still laughing. Sweet girls mother was there. And they were all having a ball laughing about mexicans and how lazy and useless they apparently are.

I gave myself a little talk "Okay Chels, don't lose your cool. They are very sad, ignorant people, and you cannot change that. There's no point in getting upset.
...But damnit, there IS a point in being upset. This is 2011 for crying out loud, and that girl is a part of myyyyy generation, she's a disgrace!
...Nope, no point. She, fortunately, is the minority now, with her ugly, last century racism. She will always be that way. Shampoo that bitch, and get on with your day"

I shampoo'd her. We didn't say a word to each other, and her eyes were closed the whole time. She had an heir of innocence too, but it went by a different name; ignorance.

Saw "The Help" yesterday... You should too.

Just awoke to a text message from my boss asking me if I could come in early because it's "been a rough morning". Oh dear, what could this mean?

Time to start my day. But first, Hot Cocoa.


via fashiontoast

essentials

via the sartorialist

A splash of color and a puppy, the two things to get you thru a below-par day.

Tanzania, by Stophavingaboringlife

Barcelona, by Astrid

The desire to travel is becoming overwhelming. While at work today, suffering from a headache that seemed to be radiating through my entire body, I was pretending myself useful, and doing laundry at pace slower than a glacier, and imagining myself in any and every place I've ever wanted to go. I started thinking, as my mind was living in this other world for a few moments, and my body in the present reality- how long am I going to be doing this?
This wishing my life away? Now, I know what you're thinking- You're thinking, at least if you're my mother or father, "Don't be foolish, Chelsea. You have responsibilities, obligations. Not to mention, you're poor and you need to get your life in order."
And this is true. I won't even elaborate on my impulsive, indecisive nature and it's adorable presence in my past. I'm getting a handle on it moreso now, very slowly. But I think it's more a matter of balance.
I believe myself to be a bit of a risk-taker, at heart. That sounds kind of... dumb, like an adolescent excuse for being irresponsible. And while I don't enjoy the particular set-backs many of these risks have caused me, there are a handful I truly will never regret.
If I could just get down to what is truly in my heart, and make those decisions my top priority, like any ambitious, inspired soul, then I'd really be proud of myself.

So- I've decided, while folding towels today- it isn't if I'm going to travel anymore, it's simply a matter of when.
I want to go back to hair school (...I think). The "I think" is what makes me feel that traveling first, is actually smarter.
Because part of me only wants to do hair because it's the next step, it's expected, and it's safe. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy hair. I find it exciting and fascinating; the things people can do with hair is insane- look at Lady Gaga for crying out loud.
Once I'm licensed, it will be vital for me to stay in one place and work diligently to build clientele. I would be devoting a good 4 or 5 years of my life to establishing this.
And while it does sound rewarding in one respect, I worry that my curiosity for the unknown will simply peak right in the middle of it- which, I know, is where self-control comes into play.
And who knows? What if I get married? What if life just starts to go in a direction I never planned for it to go? (I know thats what they always say about life, and damnit, you're only young once. If I deny myself this experience, I know I will obsess about it for years and years.)

So, why should I hush the little shred of child left inside me, so that I can start life first, take on more responsibility, and let this moment slip away as life just gets more complicated?
I guess I'm just worried that at 40, I'll think back on this time and say "I should have..." And if I'm still clueless now as to how I want my life to turn out, I still at least know that that is exactly how I don't want it to turn out.

Spent the day reading:




1) I've always been so in love with 50s/60s fashions, and was so excited when I saw the first preview of Mad Men several years ago. The silhouettes, the colors, the detailing. It's all so romantic and personal. Though I'm definitely grateful to live in a time when throwing on a pair of jeans and a tshirt is acceptable, even fashionable if worn properly, I do sometimes feel gyped in present day society's wardrobe habits and selections. There's something about a full dress, the hat, the gloves, the heels, the whole package... with all those feminine, romantic details such as lace, bows, or ruffles, that makes me a bit jealous of my grandmother. There's definitely been a big come-back of cinched waists, feminine silhouettes, and even some of the more retro hairstyles, since the show has aired. So exciting! I snatched this book up this past week after passing by Borders and seeing their big "GOING OUT OF BUSINESS! EVERYTHING MUST GO!" sign. I couldn't resist. I remember being 9 or 10, and spending afternoons in my room, drawing my own designs, and making a mock-catalog, that I would relentlessly peddle to my parents and all their friends. Over the years, I became busy with music, and forgot all about it. But I've been TRYING to teach myself how to draw. I'm nowhere near great, but I'm not horrible, for not having any formal lessons. I was practicing pretty consistently for a number of months, but went through a particularly stressful period, and got out of the routine. (This is a common theme with me... I'm going to break that habit so help me god!) I've been looking for more inspiration, as I've been somewhat of a blank slate lately, it's doing me good to get excited again :]

2) My family always teases me, every time I buy a new book, that I only choose books that are depressing and morbid. Always, I hear, "Why don't you read something HAPPY? Some chicklit perhaps?" I can enjoy "chicklit" as much as anyone can- I've read my fair share of Sarah Dessen. But my response to them is always that I enjoy stories about real life, I find them to be uplifting. I like to hear about the many ways people process and react to different circumstances. It's a testament to a persons strength of character. That, to me, is more comforting, and more inspiring than a fictional love story- not that they don't have their place, too. Lord knows I live my life as if I live in one. But this is a book I haven't been able to put down. I wasn't sure, when I bought it, what to expect. It was sort of an impulse- buy. I wanted a story to bury my mind in, something consuming, like any good book, and something moving, like any great book. I knew nothing about it when I bought it. I read the inside sleeve and decided I'd made my selection. I'm near the end of it, and for the first time, I'm considering writing the author a letter. It will challenge what you think, and how you think, the next time you hear the word "Homeless".

3) I laughed when I saw this title on the shelf. I picked it up immediately. "This is exactly the kind of thing that I need to keep on my bedside table!" Dozens of profiles of every philosopher you can think of- and their horrible luck with love. Though I really must say, I think the title is a little off. So far, every philosopher I've read about has foundlove, they just weren't able to keep it. Is that failure?

All in all, it's been a nice relaxing day off. I did exactly what I wanted/planned to do.
Except, I did have a migraine for most of the day, which hindered me reading as much as I wanted to.
But, there's still tonight :]

I'm off work today and for some reason I'm up earlier than my mother- it's 6:30.
Today, I will read.

I've decided it's time to start back up with this one. I have another blog as well, thats more centered around relationships, and overcoming one's fears. More reality and less frills. If there's one thing I'm learning this summer, it's that you need a bit of both to maintain balance and sanity! I've let both of these fall by the wayside as life becomes busy and/or turbulent, and I always end up scolding myself in the end, because I need these sorts of check-points, to keep my mind balanced and focused. So PLEASE, if you read this, and enjoy any of my entries and want to see more from me, please let me know. It will help keep me on task.

The past week or so I've been going through a bit of a funk, and it's been difficult to get inspired and stay inspired. I think almost everyones worst fear is some serious tragedy befalling them- like your entire family drowning in a tsunami or being in flight and witnessing the roof of the plane blow off (seriously happened!) or some other disaster completely out of your control. Or maybe I'm just a paranoid freak? Either way, I'm finally realizing that there are only a handful of things in this world we can control, and that is what I'm trying to spend my time focusing on from here on out- at least 95% of the time. So here, I will post all my dreams, aspirations, and all the things that keep life looking bright and shiny to me. I'll start off with a few things that I am grateful for, so I can always remember, in my selfish, pitiful moments, that I still have a pretty awesome life:

1) My mom, a woman who you'd swear was born with not one, but two hearts and an extra set of eyes for her to cry all her proud, happy tears. A strong-willed, hard-headed, ambitious, brave lady, who has worked tirelessly to fill many shoes over the years. I'd be a different person without her.

2) My sister, a girl wise beyond both our years', also with a big heart, and an even bigger smile. Best and most loyal friend I'll ever have.

3) A heart that feels it all. Though this can also be a downright curse at times, and I have to stay aware of how my heart behaves so it doesn't reach a toxic level of foolishness, (too many Feist references, coincidentally- not that that's a problem) I'm grateful for my sensitivity. I hope I always stay that way.

Love,
Sea