juju jeans and memories of my mom

{cheap jeans from the landmark}

last friday, i bought a pair of cheap jeans.  you see, last january, i promised myself i'd lose a lot of weight and that i'd buy clothes once i've lost everything i've set out to lose. well, i lost some, and then i stopped watching what i ate and exercising, so i gained back some of what i've lost. and i'm miserable not buying, especially since my jeans have all but faded in the wash. and you do know how everyone seems to be wearing dark rinse, so i decided to be kind myself and bought me a pair of jeans. but only the cheap kind - i still intend to lose a lot of weight, i just don't intend to wear old, worn-out jeans till then.

but this post isn't just about jeans, it's about the memories of cheap jeans - what my mom and i used to call juju jeans - and all those times i spent shopping with my mom.  you see, when i was a kid, i didn't have a lot of friends. i probably had a good friend or two from my class and spent all of my free time with my mom (and my brother, but that's a different issue altogether, haha!).  in fact, when i was in grade two, we were asked who our best friend was and i said "my mom" and my teacher got angry and all that and told me, "it has to be someone else." probably she had her own mommy issues.

of course as with all mothers and daughters, we had our major issues, and there were times that i couldn't wait to go back to the dorm to "escape" my mother.  i suppose she wasn't too happy with me either - i had a boyfriend real early, dated the most inappropriate boys (and men -- i was horrible at picking them, i tell you), and got three quatros on my second semester in UP.  and while she discouraged one of our dearest helpers from taking up education when the latter finally went to college and hated the fact that my grandfather was a lawyer (she felt they were poor growing up cause he never made much as a lawyer), irony of ironies was the fact that i took up education in UP in preparation for law. and while she did "succeed" in discouraging me from going to law school right after graduation, i eventually went to law school, albeit two years later.

still, i'd like to believe that my grade two self was correct - my mom is my best friend.  so what if she hates north park (which i love) and thinks my curtains are cheap?  my mom was the one who taught me how to ride a bike without training wheels, inspired me to be an amazing driver despite the fact that i'm female, and made sure that i was first in line for the csa grade 1 entrance test even if my last name starts with the letter "v". to this day, my mom buys random things with flowers simply because i love flowers on things, and sends them to me in a big balikbayan box even if her budget is overstretched from the horrible economy and the mortgage payments they're making monthly. i may not look like my mom, but i look at my toenails and my calves and overtake inside the village despite the speedbump on the road and i know, i am her daughter through and through.

so yesterday, after buying the jeans i sent a text message to my mom telling her of the purchase and how i was reminded of her.  this morning, she replied, and said the words that makes me feel good no matter how far she is from me, "i love you."

me and my new hair

i'm the girl who refuses to spend a lot on her hair.  that was, until last tuesday.

i can blame it on impulse, claim temporary insanity, or the fact that i was wholly dependent on a hair tie to keep me from looking like a crazy woman at work.  whatever the cause, right after a quick lunch at the canteen, i told my officemates that i wanted to go park jun and get a haircut.

so someone called to check if the creative director was there (she came highly recommended on a spot.ph article which claimed that she's perfect for those with thick, frizzy hair) and when i was penciled in at 12, we all trooped to glorietta and an hour later (she was quick!), i came out with lovely, lovely hair.

now, if you have the same hair texture that i do, you do know that lovely, lovely hair from the parlor translates into unmitigated disaster after the first shampoo.  and true enough, my nice soft layers turned into crazy woman hair after i allowed it to air dry yesterday.  i was a bit disappointed -- did the writer who did the review not promise that this woman, who charges what it would cost me to eat a buffet lunch at spiral (without a voucher!), is amazing when it comes to my kind of hair???

but then (1) my hair really is extremely damaged and (2) she did tell me i'd need a major treatment + grow my hair so she could cut off the damaged area and (3) i'd need a volume rebond later on to tame my wild tresses.  so today, i air dried my hair and then did what any girl wanting to make the most out of her expensive haircut would do: spent time styling it.  my weapon of choice? my revlon hair iron.

and what do you know. in less than fifteen minutes (it was dry already so all i had to do was iron), i had lovely, lovely hair once more.  sure, it wasn't wash and wear like i wanted, but at the end of the day, i was able to sort of recreate the "look" the stylist did for me. i got the nice layers framing my face, and the shape was a nice long bob, and while it wasn't as sleek as the blow-dried version, my version still looked like i paid good money to look cute. i felt the same way as i did when i stepped out of the salon.  now THAT, at least in my experience, is rare.

so thanks, Maiya for making my hair pretty.  i *might* just make it back to you salon chair in the future.