Confessions of a Lip Biter

So I’m combing my hair this morning and my heart skipped a neat. See it? A bit of blonde at my temple. Can it really have been a full year ago that I chopped all of my hair off and dyed the 2 inches left black? I had just gotten screwed over pretty bad (a blow to my career) and I wanted to look “tough”.

And, within weeks of this drastic transformation, I got stopped on the street to model for two different agencies, asked if I wanted to be in some video of some sort, and asked to be on Millionaire Matchmaker. I, however, am 5’2”—I see no career as a model and I have no intention of going on reality TV. So I instead went to interview after interview (8 in the span of 3 weeks) and spent most of my free time sketching in coffee shops.

When my dad was up for his triple bi-pass, I used my last resources to fly across the country to see him before the procedure. Once here, my parents began to make me question what I had to go back for. I only had enough money left for either a plane ticket home or to pay my phone bill (which I had deferred into the hundreds). When my phone was disconnected, I knew what I would do.

But seeing that blonde hair? Brings me back to the gritty part of downtown LA: flirting with too-handsy fabric venders….bribing my sewers with cases of monster…sitting on floor beside my patternmaker’s desk and crying from exhaustion….

My life was tough but….EXCITING. I felt like I was constantly on the very edge of greatness. I miss my blonde days.