Mustache...

For almost ten years for handsome man was baby-faced with an occasional bout of lazy-scruff. (see picture above, ignore the split lip that was a 'present' from a friend over a kiss from a member from Ladytron, another story for another day)

Since March he has taken it upon himself to grow a mustache. At first it came in rather meek and feeble. Itching like crazy and like he had a dirty upper lip. As the weeks progressed it turned into an angry caterpillar, growing gradually and with ferocity. As seen below...


Save your judging about the smoking for someone else...this is all about a mustache adventure for right now. So yes as you can see the angry caterpillar started its creep outwards to finally become...
That.
Yes I know its a little creepy but it was done for the purposes of humor with some old man glasses I bought for another photo shoot. Tony and his mustache have become two separate entities. More obvious when drinking copious amounts of Pabst and discussing 'mustache friendly foods'.



As much as it is a 'facial fad', it is really growing on me. His confidence has skyrocketed. Men and women alike have come up to him to compliment him on 'his amazing face growth' or 'wicked 'stache man!'. His mustache also has helped considerably in certain 'hipster' establishments(stronger drinks). I actually giggle more when I look at him. I feel like I have a whole new man for me to enjoy. Someone who feels happy with his appearance and takes pride in his 'wicked handlebar face accessory'.

Last but not least...the fact that it tickles. Pow!

~Steffaree

In the past...

Quite a few years ago I began to make wigs. I was bored at work and had been invited to attend a 'party', more commonly referred to as a 'rave'. I had attended raves in high school and was known as a 'raver' all throughout my senior year. I never truly dabbled in drugs while at those parties, even though that's what was very common back then (and now). Not until after high school and in my twenties, had I actually 'rolled' at a party. I kept those experiences purely recreational and made sure it was in a controlled environment. Too many outside influences can impede on one's good drugged up time at parties, but I digress...

This particular 'party' was my first in years. I was full of bitterness from gaining weight, having a boyfriend that was addicted to an online role playing game called Final Fantasy XI and had lack of social fun besides getting drunk at home with people. I wish I still had the picture that inspired me to create but I'll try to describe it. It was of a gorgeous woman with dreadlocks in beautiful bright colors and very imaginative makeup, sprinkled with glitter and staring off in a devil-may-care way. I wanted to be her. Her confidence and colorful hair and makeup was everything I needed in order to be happy. Within that day I ventured out, procured wool, a wig, craft foam, rexlace and glitter. Even joined a forum to teach me the ways of felting wool into dreadlocks.


The above is a partial picture of my first dreadlock wig. I created it in a day and at the party I received so many compliments, I felt as though I was floating on air. After a couple years of just feeling like the friend 'who got fat' I was all of a sudden treated like the amazing creative person I had been keeping quiet with vodka and cupcakes.

After my debut back into the 'party scene' I began creating more and more wigs to satisfy my need for attention. I wasn't getting it at home at the time and I thrived on feeling beautiful and being treated like a creative goddess. The picture at the top of the page was taken at a time when I had finally begun to make 'friends' within the scene. Some of which I am honored to say are the best I could have ever hoped for. Through my crazy wigs, I began decorating for parties because promoters sought me out for my creativity. I slaved for them in order to just have something creative fill my time while I still worked at a job I despised (and still do). Through all my stresses in decorating I met some amazing people. Some of my best friends went through the same rave bullshit I did. By bullshit I mean, dealing with 'e-tards', stinky people, working for nothing and dancing until dawn then taking all that decorative crap down.



The pictures above are from a party called Techno Therapy. I covered the warehouse with sheets, black lights and cardboard cut outs of stars, Dr. Mario pills and medical crosses in neon paint. You can see me in my white wig surrounded by some friends at the time. All are gone from my life now for various reasons. I can safely say they helped me become a better friend to those I have in my life now.

Through all the drama, creativity and drugs the rave scene did a lot to help me be who I am today. So yeah, I did drugs, danced until the wee hours of the morning, cut out things out of cardboard until my fingers bled, spent hours felting wool to create wigs for vanity and forged friendships that have outlasted my love affair with raves.

In the past...I was a raver and I'm not ashamed to say it.

~Steffaree

3 Years Later...

Three years ago today, I married my love. We were together for nearly 7 years before the knot was tied. I'll go into detail about how we met another time, today its all about 'the big day' and the events leading up to it.

He proposed to me in front of The Redwood in Seattle in front of our closest friends, after picking a fight with me in order to get me out of said bar. I kicked him, laughed, cried and instead of yes, I said "Fucking, Duh".

We've never gone about things in a 'normal' fashion. We've tried, but to do things that way it never felt really 'right'. We never wanted the 2.5 kids and white picket fence. So getting married we took our time getting there. 2 years of being engaged and then our wedding day was upon us.

Our ceremony was short and sweet and performed by a Judge and not a priest (much to my Mother's dismay). We planned our big day to be focused on celebrating with food and drinks and dancing the night away with family and friends rather than all about the traditional pomp and circumstance. There was no bouquet toss, garter toss, special dances, or long winded speeches.

Marriage at it's simplest form is just a legal contract between two people. Our relationship never needed that extra step, but with an excuse to have a giant party with all of our friends? Well "fucking duh" we are going to do it up right.

My favorite memory from our wedding day has to be our first dance and what happened when we arrived at our hotel on our wedding night.

We danced to 'Fly Me To The Moon' sung by Frank Sinatra. I'll never forget the rush as he pulled me up the stairs to the dance floor at our venue. Laughing uncontrollably as he dipped me and looking into his eyes, sharing a special moment with just the two of us.

After the whirlwind, booze filled fun that was our wedding, entering our suite felt instantly soothing. We were both drunk and excited that "YES WE DID IT" that we couldn't just consummate our relationship right off the bat. Tony just HAD to get us 'something'. So off he goes in his wedding finery, leaving me behind to sip Chardonnay out of the bottle in my wedding dress, on the bed watching the summer Olympics. About 15 minutes later he comes tumbling back into the room with a six pack of Olympia beer and a pink geranium (complete with roots). We laughed, we drank, we 'held hands' with ping pong going on in the background and slept like the dead.

Three years goes by incredibly fast with someone you love. Over the weekend I kept looking at Tony and feeling blissfully happy giggling about something as silly as our pug letting out a squeaker fart. Yep, we're 'those' people. I can safely say that I love him more now than I did 10 years ago, even three years ago.

My Tony, My Love.

~Steffaree

Remembrance

re·mem·brance/riˈmembrəns/Noun

1. The action of remembering something.

2. The action of remembering the dead, esp. in a ceremony.

Today would have been my Uncle Kent's birthday. He died in March so suddenly it still takes my breath away to think I talked to him on a Thursday and he died Saturday.

His presence has been in my life since I was born. Family vacations, christenings, graduations, birthdays; every conceivable event you could think important in a growing human's life, he was there. Christmas Eve was an especially amazing time for us all to get together. Even more important as my brothers and I became adults. We would drink martinis (when he drank hard alcohol before being diagnosed with hepatitis C), eat chocolate and laugh while tearing into our gifts. He could always fashion the most amazing bows using a length of ribbon and his creativity. Always wore his bright red sweater, gave the warmest hugs and always smelled beautiful. I would always breathe in deeply and squeeze him back, even if I was annoyed that he was almost an hour late. He always ran on 'Kent time'.

On my Birthday, as well as his own, we would talk about how being a Leo was the best sign of the zodiac to be. How our loyalty and killer sense of taste is just a part of being a Leo. For years he would call me on my birthday and read my horoscope to me from the paper.

Today's says:

If August 12 is your birthday:
You are very likely immersed in something that fills your every waking minute. This may be a person, job, an ambition or just a new hobby that inspires you and fulfills your fantasies. Your business skills are improving and during the next few months, you can make admirable progress up the ladder of success if you maintain a low profile while placed in a learning position in September.

I'd like to think of him doing interior design in the cosmos with Elizabeth Taylor. Drinking champagne and rolling around in a puddle of diamonds. He would always give my mother silly costume jewelry or books about glamorous women. Kent and my mother were best friends right up until the end. She and my father had the chance to see him before he died. My Father held him and cried. My Mother would call me weeping and held the phone to his ear so I could say goodbye even though cell phones weren't allowed.

I miss Kent every day. Sometimes I will still hear him chuckle in my mind whenever I see some disaster of an outfit. He never said anything mean about anyone though. Always Mr. Tactful. I strive to be more like him now more than ever. To carry on his lust for life and positive spirit.

Today I will be going out for martinis and a day of beauty with my lovely lady friends. I will toast to you Kent, where ever you are.

With all my heart,

Steffaree

Note: The picture above was taken on my Wedding day August 15th, 2008 with his mother.

So it starts...

This blog was formed in 2008 but I never truly had the confidence to post the inner ramblings of my brain.

It starts today.

With every good beginning, a little introduction should take place. We'll start with some random facts...here goes nothing...

1. Rhinestones, glitter, sequins
-I cannot get enough of anything shiny. I see rhinestones and suddenly the world stops to shift and spin around said shiny object. I have said that in a former life I had to have been a female impersonator. The big hair, glitter, feathers, rhinestones...speak to me more than anything demure and reserved for 'normal ladies'.

2. Viciously loyal
-I have a tendency to get irrationally angry when something bad happens to those I love. Because why not? My friends are amazing? Why would someone purposefully do something awful to someone so wonderful?? I am there when they need me and treat others as I would want to be treated. Not to 'toot my own horn' but I consider myself an honest and loyal person to the umpteenth degree.

3. I love to entertain.
-Hosting parties is in my blood. My mother taught me to always make sure a glass is full and that the food look appropriate for the event. Decorations, lights, candles, you name it. I live for a chance to laugh and drink with my friends while forming the best possible atmosphere in my humble home.

4. Tourette's Syndrome Behind the Wheel
-I talk, I swear, I hollar, I honk...I'm getting better about containing my outbursts about random motorists but proper driving etiquette (or lack thereof rather) sends me into a flurry of cursing and/or honks. No I'm not some crazy blonde speeding and honking her way through the city. Just an annoyed motorist that expects turning signals and people driving in their own lanes. Perhaps its too much to ask but my behavior behind the wheel is something my friends find comical (if not a bit unnerving at times) enough to call me out on. I wear my crazy badge with pride. USE TURN SIGNALS DAMN IT!

5. Platinum Blonde
-I've had Platinum blonde hair for years. Its 'my thing'. People like to comment about it constantly. No it isn't because of Lady Gaga, although I do get those compliments quite often. Technically my hair could be considered 'white' and I love it. I say constantly that I can't wait to go grey! Would save me a fortune in bleach. A classic style I hope to have for years and years because it feels organic for who I am.

Generic, random, a little twinge of crazy...indeed.

More to Come...

~Steffaree