Because I Want To

Lately, I've been thinking about selfishness a lot. My whole life I have been told that being selfish is bad, it's a negative virtue, it's not one of the Fruits of the Spirit and frankly, it just sounds bad. However, I am slowly coming to the realization that selfishness, in moderation, is actually really good; I'm even making a point to be a little more selfish everyday. Because I have spent an awful lot of my life making sure that I am not a selfish person, and every time I do something a little bit self-centered, I justify the hell out of it. It happens everyday, someone asks me why I don't eat certain things, or go out more, or why I dye my hair or wear makeup and I justify it with some socially acceptable response but most of the time, it's just because I want to (or don't want to) do those things.
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But there is nothing wrong with doing things for me, I deserve a little more self attention than I have been giving myself. Maybe I'm confusing self love for self centered, but either way, the point is pretty much the same. I don't really love myself, and as a result, my self, suffers. A lot.

So, all that being said, I've embarked on a little self loving mission. I'm spending a little bit more time everyday doing things that make me happy and that make me feel good. I'm going out of my way to help me, and I'm trying to spend less energy on explaining myself. More and more I answer the question "why?" with "because I want to..." and less with some form of explanation that the questioner will like. By default, I find myself being more honest and more comfortable with that honesty. I'm not saying that I've stopped helping the little old ladies across the street, or that I don't say yes when someone asks a favor. I'm a saying that I am making time for me and doing things for me which are things I never really have done before, much less been happy about them. I am not selfish for wanting better that what I have right now.

xxx

Fish Out Of Water

I don't know if it has to do with the fact that I've binged watched some particularly traumatic Grey's Anatomy episodes today, or if because all I want is cold weather and a pint of Guinness, but today is the kind of day that makes me miss London. I'm sure most, if not all, of you will be in agreement that I've done it to myself but when it's a 100 degrees outside and all you have is watery, sad, gluten-free beer, a girl gets a little desperate. I'm sure you've all gathered, due to my basic need to post about it every-freaking-where, that one year ago to the day I moved to London. That being said, I've spent my day in one of the most exquisite form of self torture. I Skyped my old flatmate, listened to Sam Smith on repeat, daydreamed about biscuits( I attempted to have tea but it's way too hot for hot tea), and even regained my mutilated, half there/ half not there British accent. So I'm not really sure of where today's blog post is going, or what direction it may take, but I can promise you that there will be nostalgia, slight narcissism, and a wanderlust that is verging on pathetic.
One year ago I was on a plane somewhere across the Atlantic, but that's not exciting so I'm going to skip ahead. Or around, whichever. I think that for most words and colloquialisms, their definitions are relative. For example, when I hear the words, "out of my element" do you know what imagery comes to the front of my mind? It's an image of my parents waving to me from a taxi cab outside my flat, it's me standing there in the rain with two suitcases that weigh at least as much as I do. That's what I define as "out of one's element" or "fish out of water". Frankly I never pictured or defined those phrases as having a happy definition, I mean a fish out of water is a dead fish so you can understand why. But the moments when I most felt like an outsider in my life, turned out to be some of my favorite moments, like when people stare because of your accent, or when you leave the house without an umbrella because, well, you're from California. Or the times when you call Maltesers, Whoppers and everyone thinks you're insane. Or when people ask how you managed to lose all five fingertips on one hand, in presumably, one go, or when they ask how you can be 21 years old and so utterly, God-awful at video games. I think it's those moments that define who you are, I think that it's when you don't fit in that counts. I happen to like who I am when I am a fish out of water, because when I'm in the water I get caught up in a hundred different currents that push and pull until you drown in them. I guess what I'm saying is be out of your element, be a fish out of water. Well, no actually, don't be a fish out of water because then you're a dead fish. But maybe be a fish out of water for a little while, just long enough to leave you gasping a bit, until you flip flop your way into a new and exciting part of the water.
P.S. I think I may have overused that metaphor...oh well, just keep swimming friends!

Wonderland

I rediscovered a blog entry that I wrote in December 2014 and never published. Better late than never right?

After an unexpectedly thought provoking conversation with a friend recently I've decided to make this blog post about the best parts and biggest lessons of living abroad thus far. Care to join me down the rabbit's hole?...

Number 1:
(Frankly it's the only one you really need)...Living abroad is one massive, kick you when you're down, throw you up on cloud 9, rock n' roll adventure. Nuff said right? As if living on your own, out from the shelter of your parent's wings isn't difficult enough, some of us crazy souls decide to do it abroad. In which case the chaos becomes la demence and our demented ideas have to be translated into a different language. Our normal diet gets pushed aside in a frantic endeavor to fit in or to be brave and try that terrifying dish, and your skepticism on public transport gets shunted aside because Mr. Budget is an obnoxious, rude bastard who takes precedence in everything. Yet, despite all that, you can't help but grin because here you stand on your own two feet, poorer than ever, but not giving two shits because you can't help but feel like a shining beacon of independence. Even if you're the only one to notice.

Number 2:
You find yourself, often in the most bizarre, unexpected places and times. And yes I mean that in the cheesy way of "finding who your true self is...". Hush, I'm going somewhere with this. Nothing is newer to me and more foreign in this country than myself. Every single day I learn something new about myself, and it's kind of exciting. Most of the times it's incredibly ill-timed and awkward,(stumbling out of the tube and landing gracefully on your knees and realizing that you officially are as clumsy as you've been told) to getting lost and ending up in Southeast rather than West London and consequently realizing that you actually can find your way home without your parents. Other times it's a little more unpleasant (Me? Staring at you? Oh no no Ridiculously Attractive Person With An Accent to Die For, I was just really intrigued by the utterly blank wall behind you. No really) those are the moments when you realize that your social skills absolutely need more work. Then there are the moments when you sit alone in your flat and read out loud to yourself in a British accent and thus start laughing hysterically, at yourself and you realize that there's something kind of wonderful about finding your sense of humor. So what if it's a bit immature, dry and twisted? It's yours and you are not obligated to appease to everyone's personal taste in humor. If you can laugh at yourself, you're doing alright. There are the moments when you realize that not everything you do reflects who you are but sometimes how you react, shows who you aren't. There are a thousand and half moments more but we can pick those apart later.

Number 3:
Life is a continuum of moments. Awkward moments, sad moments, funny moments, inappropriate moments, drunk moments, and heartbreaking moments. I believe life is meant to be lived in these moments, as they come and as they go.

Number 4:
This isn't just for living abroad but it needs to be said. Pants, just aren't always necessary.

Number 5:
I think this the most important thing I've ever learned, so if you get anything at all from this sporadic writing, let it be this: the world is actually ten thousand times more vast than you think. It's also ten thousand times bigger than that. It's just freaking huge. Your safety net might actually be a cage that's holding you back, and your sense of responsibility might just be a crutch to keep you safe and secure. Living here in London has Rocked. My. World. It's grabbed me by my ankles and Hulk smashed me around like Loki in The Avengers and I am ever so glad it has and I can't wait for the next time around. It's as though all of a sudden I get that, comparatively, America is tiny. My world was tiny, and still is pretty small, but each time I test that safety net and break through my comfort zone, my worldview get's a little bigger. So screw the net, take a leap and do something daring, or outrageous, or unexpected. I guarantee you won't regret it for a moment.
xxx

An American-Londoner in America

You know, I sorta thought writing this blog might encourage me to break away from the rather sporadic and annual entries I always made in my journal. It appears I have a lot of catching up to do, seeing as it was December when I last wrote, let's start there.

So. December. Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, New Year's Eve and all that. My December rocked, three of my best friends came from California to visit me in London and we had such an amazing time! I loved getting to play tour guide and show them around the city, to all my favorite landmarks, restaurants, and parks. It's so cool how you can not see people for nearly five months and then suddenly they're in your living room drinking tea with you and it's like nothing at all has changed. You laugh, joke and poke fun at each other like you've done a thousand times before, never mind that it's been months since you all hung out. We spent so much time having a wander around the city; museums, parks, and pubs were our bread and butter, and then there was the Harry Potter Warner Bros. Studio Tour...*WARNING-SEVERE NERDING AHEAD* Yes, yes I know you're all jealous of this particular adventure and you should be, because it was spectacular. It took the lot of us around two to two and a half hours to get from Ealing to Watford but it was worth every second. The tour starts off with an introduction to the whole thing( blah blah show me the Great Hall already!!!) and then you are lead through the giant, wooden doors of the Great Hall just like eleven year old you always dreamed you would be. Inside the Great Hall(let me just point out that if you don't know what the Great Hall is- then go watch the Harry Potter series you Muggle) are long tables filled with delicious looking fake food and a myriad of props surround said tables. There are outfits worn by characters and massive Christmas trees with painstakingly detailed ornaments and baubles covering them. After this experience we were led into my favorite part of the tour: a ginormous room filled with basically every prop, set, backdrop, and cool nick-knack you could possible fathom, along with a little blurb about some of the main crew members. There were the directors and producers, script supervisors, costume design and makeup design, which was particularly awesome to see. You could also see the sets for the Burrow, Gryffindor Common Room, the Potions class room, Ministry of Magic and many more. We could also see the special effects used to make the broomsticks fly and  to make ordinary objects appear to move on their own as if by magic. It was so cool to see the amount of detail and creativity behind the most minute of props. After this was a cafe where I tasted Butterbeer for the first time, and it was delicious, like liquid butterscotch. Next was a series of outdoor sets and props such at the Hogwarts Bridge and number 4 Privet Drive, along with Hagrid's motorbike and others. This portion of the tour probably would have been more enjoyable had we not all been freezing our arses off in the winter wind. As the tour winds down we were led through the more technical aspects of the "behind-the-scenes", here we saw the animatronics, prosthetics, and aqua-tronics used to create the many creatures found in the world of Harry Potter. Finally we got to see a model of Hogwarts school recreated down to the last detail. All in all the tour was awesome and it awakened the little kid in me, who, let's be honest, didn't need much help being awoken.
*END SEVERE NERDING*
We also got to see The Lion King in South Bank which was remarkable and ingenious. The transition from cartoon movie to the stage was flawless, epic and so colorful. The talent was incredible, the singing, acting, makeup and set design all stood out to me as particularly extraordinary. It was so much fun having  my best friends there to explore and experience the city with me.

Once school started again we had six weeks left until graduation, in the first two weeks we delved into more advanced casualty, exploring broken noses, medical casualty, extreme weather, as well as more detailed character makeup. I loved these two weeks, not only because the learning material was fascinating and challenging, but because our tutor Amanda is so talented and she taught me so much I never knew. The next four weeks were dedicated to advanced fashion, where we spent a solid week learning different techniques for a smokey-eye and spent a whole day practicing winged eyeliner and refraining from pulling our hair out, and don't even get me started on lip day. In the last week we had a professional photo-shoot with professional models and photographer. This was terrifying at first, as we practiced in the days leading up to the shoot but when we got there I was pleasantly surprised to find it a relatively relaxed and laid back atmosphere. I was so pleased to be there working on my gorgeous model Alice and I am so happy with the results.

Then, quite suddenly, the last day of class was there and then we were graduated and school was over and I found myself facing the dreadful prospect of trans-Atlantic moving all over again. After a stressful yet fun week of packing and saying goodbyes and embracing the ambiance of London before leaving, I was all of a sudden driving to the airport and realizing that I was leaving behind the place that had captured my soul. And so, with a heart heavier than my over-sized extra suitcase I boarded a plane and spent nine hours with my neighbors elbow in my ribs. After that, my befuddled and sleep deprived brain managed its way through customs and on to my connecting flight with fifteen minutes to spare, and then I woke up in Sacramento to a small-town, sleepy airport and my darling parents. It's funny, having not seen them in person for so long, the second I did see them, my brain kind of said, " Right, so that's Mom, and that's Dad, and what was so unusual about this again...?" and then I had to adjust a bit.

And so, after a week of said adjusting, on many levels, here I am, pretty much adapted to the Pacific Time Zone and driving on the right side of the road, being 21, hearing American accents everywhere I go. Actually that last one still throws me off. I do seem to have difficulty shaking the British terminology however, seeing as I still go to the "toilet", order "chips", and my greeting of "morning" still has a very muted r-sound. But whatever, I think after six months abroad I have the liberty of speaking however I bloody want to. I have to admit however, that it's been really strange having moved back to Chico. I almost feel like I've forgotten how to function without the Underground and my trusty Oyster card. I miss the smell of fresh chips and cigarette smoke as I waited for the bus. I miss complaining about the cold and wearing at least two pairs of socks no matter what. I miss Primrose Hill, street food, the men on the Northern Line, I miss my church and I miss walking through the city and reveling in the strangeness of it all. I miss my flatmate Stef, I miss our lazy nights, our clumsy moments of falling down any flight of stairs nearby. I feel so lazy driving everywhere, and I can feel myself getting to comfortable here, there's no surprises, nothing to keep me on my toes. I'm sure there will be at some point, something will come take me by surprise but for now I feel so...stuck. I'm sure it will go away once I get working more and a busier tone to my life, but don't ever let anyone tell you the return trip is easy. But don't let anyone convince you it's not worth the trip either.

At any rate, I think that's you lot all caught up, hopefully my writing will be a bit more frequent, but I wouldn't hold your breath for it.
All the love my friends
xx

The Americans Are Coming!!

...well, technically they're already here. In case you were wondering, three of my most favoritest people in world have come to visit me!! Two of my best friends from high school and one of my best friends from work arrived this morning all the way from California...amazing right?! After a particularly frustrating journey on the District Line(typical) I finally got to Heathrow and began the search through the International Arrivals gate and its myriad of coffee shops for the lovely Kelsey. You know those horrifically cheesy airport scenes in movies where loved ones are reunited and one person runs into the awaiting arms of the other in slow motion, grinning like a fool? Yeah, that's exactly what happened. Except it wasn't in slow motion, and I was actually awkwardly, shuffle-running rather than just running. Either way it was beautiful and I don't care how may people looked at us weirdly. Anyways, after picking everyone up, we took a rather harrowing cab ride home and sat there blinking at each other  wondering if any time had in fact passed since our last meeting. Despite being well aware that I've been away for almost 5 months, seeing my friends sitting around my flat laughing, reminiscing, and joking with each other, it still feels like I saw them just yesterday. It's a strange thing to be away from lifelong friends for so long and then to see them; everything feels completely normal, as if we always hangout at my flat in London on Saturdays. Anyways, more on our adventures later!
So it's Christmas break for this makeup student, I have about a week left until it's back for the final six weeks of college, two weeks of advanced casualty and four weeks of advanced fashion. I can't believe how quickly these past four and a half months have gone, nor can I imagine what it'll be like to go back to Chico. I feel as though I'm living in a safety net, and by moving back I'm cutting a hole in the middle of that net and it's a bit terrifying to be honest. In all my time dreaming about this school and life in London, I never thought much about the return trip, at least I tried not to. I'm not entirely sure why, but being on my own this past week has made me acutely aware that the "real world" is waiting for me back in the States. At any rate, I suppose there's no reason to dwell on it now, I still have time.
Christmas here was actually very nice despite being away from my family! I spent it with a friend from school and we cooked massive amounts of food, drank wine and prosecco, talked each other's ears off, and watched all eight of the Harry Potter movies. Not the most monumental of days but we thought it was pretty darn great. Nothing spectacular happened in the days before that, just me watching copious amounts of Sons of Anarchy, singing really loudly and taking long walks in the freezing cold. As much as I'm enjoying the time off, I look forward to being back in college and doing more makeup and learning new tricks of the trade. Before we broke up for Christmas, we did Fashion makeup which I really enjoyed. I wasn't sure I would, but a few days in I was loving it, the amount of artistry that goes into creating a catwalk or editorial look is incredible. Initially I thought I'd go through this course with the film industry as the goal but it turns out I quite like fashion too! Full of surprises aren't you London...
I promise to write again soon when there's another week of shenanigans under these four American's belts, for now three of us are jet-lagged and one's just plain tired so for now, goodnight xx

Unofficial

This a really random and probably short blog post, but I wanted to share it "unofficially", as in it's not posted to Facebook or Twitter or whatever. I wanted to blog about it because it felt like a defining moment for me. Just not one that I wanted to announce to all of Facebook...

An old friend recently pointed out to me that I've changed a lot in the few months since I've moved. Obvious right? But here's what got me: they said something along the lines of "you've grown into your personality...". When I asked them what they meant they replied with, "you're not the same quiet girl, you've grown into your personality. I don't get the feeling you'd take anybody's shit anymore. You might have taken it lying down a couple months ago, but I get the impression that now, you'd confront anything that you didn't think was right, that's a good thing...".

You've grown into yourself. It's an interesting idea isn't it?...Anyways, to that person, you know who you are, thank you. Seriously.

Thank you.

Day By Day

Well, it seems like ages since I last blogged anything at all. I feel as though an update is necessary...so let's see what I can tempt you with. My attempts at dealing with the weather? Random adventures throughout London? Cool makeup stuff? At little of everything you say? You got it. Let's start with the way Mother Nature behaves around these parts...

First, let me start by saying that I am a Californian. I currently live in London, England. That should tell you all you need to know, but where's the fun in that? I know that the weather isn't generally something to blog about, it's more that topic you desperately cling to while flailing about on a bad date. However, let me at least attempt to make it an enjoyable topic. You see, I come from a place where the last big snow storm was in like 1938 or something crazy like that, and by "big snow storm" I mean a couple inches of sleet. I don't think I've ever experienced weather below, oh I don't know, 30 degrees? And that's in early mornings in January. It's barely November here, and the temperature has already opened a can of Whoop Ass on me. It's about 11 pm and already a mere 46 degrees. Why, oh why didn't I choose I warmer country...Anyways, it's not purely the temperature, oh no. Supposedly, it actually SNOWS here too. Like proper snow. I'm barely scraping by with adjusting to the rain and wind and general frigidity of this place as it is, but there might be snow too?! Someone help me. I live in the Arctic. Oh and let's not even begin to talk about the struggles of using an umbrella...seriously, do you know how many people I've clocked with my umbrella in an effort to utilize it properly? A lot, that's how many. It's an endless stream of, "Oh excuse me!", "Let me just untangle our umbrellas...", and "Oh God, I'm just...I'm so sorry." And what the bloody heck are you supposed to do with a sopping wet umbrella on the tube? Seriously, please somebody tell me the British etiquette for this scenario because so far I've stabbed myself and sprayed people with rainwater. Also, has anybody else experienced that moment of walking behind a cluster of umbrella users and you suddenly find yourself judging these people by their umbrellas? Then consequently wondering if the people behind you are doing the same thing and if so, I don't think I like what my paisley umbrella says about me. Then there's always that one guy who's walking around in shorts and a tee shirt completely oblivious to the cold, never mind that it's pouring rain, he's happy as a clam. Final note on the weather here, somebody tell Primark that paper bags just don't hold up in the rain. They just don't.

Now, let's see what sort of adventures have been had...Well, for starters I went to Hyde Park today, which was lovely. However, what my artsy Instagram photos won't tell you is that somewhere between entering and leaving the park I did in fact sit in bird poop. Classic Melissa Adventure. But let's move on from that. So a couple weeks back myself and some girls from my class did a bit of work experience at a Halloween party in North London, which was amazing and tons of fun. We got to do all kinds of cool makeup and get a feel for the general persona of being a make up artist. Anyways, during the process of talking to clients while transforming them into cats, or brides of Frankenstein, or zombies, I made the unfortunate discovery that some commonly used words in America mean something altogether different here. Like, for example, when I asked the guy who I had just given a sliced arm to please "check his gash out, and see what he thought...". All you British people are having a good chuckle at me aren't you? Bastards...You see, what poor me didn't know was that "gash" is apparently British slang for a woman's erm, downstairs area. So, as you can imagine, everyone else in the room got a good laugh while I stood there trying to figure out what I had said that was so gosh darn funny. Of course it didn't help that the guy was super cute too...just my luck. Another client, spent a solid three minutes trying to guess which state I was from until I said the words "thank you" and he suddenly shouted "California!!". Apparently all Californian girls say "thank you" the same way (which is just not true) and we all sound like Katy Perry when we do. I thought this was a gross misjudgment and told him I wasn't going to thank him for anything anymore. There have also been the smaller but equally enjoyable and fun adventures, like on Halloween, taking a friend out for her first beer and watching her starting to talk nonsense barely halfway through a pint. That was also the night that I ordered a beer with a 7.8% alcohol content and didn't realize what a bad idea that was until I was laughing for no reason whatsoever a little over halfway through my pint. Ah well, live and learn right? There was the time I got a bus at random and ended up on the opposite side of London and frankly had no idea how to get back, the time that my roommate and I sat next to each other competitively playing Diner Dash on our respective laptops because yes we are that cool. There was the time when I discovered that Swedish apple juice is a thousand  and a half times better than American, or any other kind for that matter. There was the time I saw the guy from One Direction, and the guy who plays Carson from Downton Abbey as well. There was the time I overindulged on chips from Nando's, which is actually every time I go to Nando's. There was the time I tried mac and cheese from a can (I don't recommend it). There was the time I spent a solid hour getting makeup peeled off my face, arm, and chest and the time I freaked out while being driven around in a car on the wrong side of the road. I could go on, but I think you get the point, there have been many, many beautiful adventures here.
Last but definitely not least. MAKEUP. Last time I blogged I was still knee deep in hair styling, In the time since then I have done two weeks of casualty and character makeup and one week of body painting and airbrushing. Casualty and character has been by far my favorite module, I mean I spent two weeks making people look like everything from gunshot victims, to different genders, to drug addicts. It was morbid and gruesome and amazing. Which makes me sound like a total nutcase but I think I can live with that. I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed this part of the course, I'm not usually one for blood and gore but during those two weeks I actually had a hashtag for just that. I loved making burns, slash marks, track marks, bruises, and gunshot wounds and the more blood the better, it was a whole new side to myself! Character was really amazing too, we got to age each other and do gender changes as well. All in all it was a bloody good couple of weeks ( *wink wink* see what I did there? Puns...right). So body painting, was an interesting time. We mostly did airbrushing, which is much harder than I was expecting, or maybe I was just phenomenally bad at it. At any rate, it was not my favorite thing to do, or have done, as the blowing sensation is a bit unpleasant, especially for a person who wears contact lenses. However, it was interesting to learn how to use the airbrush and to get a different perspective on makeup application. The actual body painting that we did was just painting clothes on each other, which again is not really my cup of tea. If I'm going to paint I prefer it to be with watercolors so I can smear it all together into a "sunset" or something if it looks bad. However, painting clothes on is a challenge, the shading had to be right and and the 3D perspective had to be there to make it look realistic and there was contrasting and highlighting and I'm just not very good at that. Particularly when it's in non-nude colors. Anyways, it's been a varied and fun few weeks, and tomorrow we start on hair again, but this time it's hair cutting and barbering...dun, dun, DUN. Not that I'm nervous, not at all. I'll keep you posted on how it goes, unless it goes terribly awry, in which case I won't post anything.
Goodnight for now, it's been, as usual, an absolute pleasure.
You stay classy world