A Day In The Life of a Gypsy

It’s been a while since anyone referred to me as a gypsy, but it’s what my mom called me all through undergrad. Actually, she started by calling me a hobo (which I asked her to not say in public) and then nomad and THEN finally switched to gypsy. With which I was okay. Because of Esmeralda, y’all!

Anyway, it caught on. Then, because I moved like 20 times in 6 years (o, how I WISH I were joking), it took. SO, a gypsy i was.

The last few years it’s tempered out. I’ve stayed in Austin and completed a few lease terms, and wear a little less of the typical garb (I do have a hankering to carry a tambourine at all times). But last Friday, I felt like a gypsy again. I did so many varied, idiosynchratic, wonderful things, that I felt like I was back in undergrad flitting off for adventures.

So of course, I took pictures. To be funny, I tried for every 2 hours. Here are the results:

Here I am at 6 am. Completely happy about life. :) Actually, I don’t usually scowl but I kept staying up late and TRYing to sleep in, but my body just wouldn’t let me. Which means I got in extra miles last week but… the getting up was not the most fun.

which, can we also talk about how gym clothes are the limiting factor of my wardrobe? I have about 7 pairs of shorts/pants to work out in, and these are the magnificent “dumpy-butt” ones my mom gave me. They only make an appearance when I don’t wash clothes for a whole week. So about every 7 days ;)

And this is the hot mess that scowling figure turned into 2 hours, 8 miles, and a tan later.

I’m sorry these photos are all so big. it was either huge or miniscule. le sigh.

somehow my skin really does look nice, though, after a work out. Maybe it’s the “flush” anyway, i always look a little like I’m wearing eyeliner after I work out. Until i wash my face, at which point…

9 am: NAKED FACE. As in my face is naked. As in clean. Not at in IIIII am naked. I am fully clothed in this closely-cropped and therefore-confusing photo. Also, a rare shot of my freshly-washed hairs.

10 am: transformation via Nicole at Radiant Cometics, who used me as a face model for her new Indian-inspired colors. I am not a model or an Indian. But I can fake it if you use a lot of makeup. And photoshop. ;) #ambiguousethnicity

just because OHMYWORD how beautiful is that Sari?

11am: Costume change for some RI-DONK-U-MOUS headshots with J Crane, a lover of my soul and putter-upper with my crazy.

Noon: turning back into a regular person-slash-frumper bump with my lazy hairstyle: the Brooklyn high Bun (also known as the sumo bun, when my bangs stick to my head)

1pm : finally figuring out how to rock the dress piano-anna gave me a year ago. I was going to alter it, but then i decided to just to use it as a bathing suit cover up

2pm: BARTON SPRINGS

3PM: still barton, with special appearance by aforementioned J Crane, who sometimes appears on the other end of the camera

4PM. I know, this is the same as my 2pm shot. Well, I was on a “laying on my belly and soaking up the rays” roll. Much akin to a lizard. Which I say “leeez-sard” because I have a confusing mexibilly accent.

This doesn’t show you me, but it does show you why i didn’t get a self portrait at 6 pm: I perform dinner theatre to get him to eat. Dance, monkey, dance.

and here we are at 8. Just after dessert, before teeth, pajamas, story, and bed.

are you photo-overloaded? Couldn’t help it, I had to chronicle all the looks.

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