7 Quick Takes - Take 1

7 Quick Takes

I haven't posted in almost 5 months! Where has the time gone? In an effort to cover a lot of ground quickly, I am going to try out this "7 Quick Takes" approach!

1.      Dreadlings. They are a little dread-full. I won’t lie. I knew I was getting in a little over my head (oh the puns) when I put them in. I had an idea that these suckers would require some attention, and I knew I was about to have a newborn and a toddler maxing out my time. I have to admit that I nearly cut them off. It has only been 6 months since I put the last ones in, and I KNOW it takes a solid year to really start to see them as dreads and not just a bunch of tangles. I almost didn’t have the staying power - and that was always my fear when I put them in - that I would be all, “yeah! Cool!” when I started followed quickly by, “I give up.” But at Christmas, some of the girls I am getting to know in my town were so enthusiastic about them that I had some renewed hope. And when I finally did sit down and put some effort into them, I got encouraging results. I still have a huge matted chunk or two on the back of my head. Conga dreads to the MAX. But if I take the time to snip them apart, and work them into themselves with my little crochet hook and wrap the bases of the ones I have completed with some elastics to try to keep things separate then I really like the way things are going! So I am going to persevere. It seems silly when I write it out. Who puts so much work into tangling their hair? Don’t I have something better to do with my life? Maybe I do. Maybe that’s why they are such a mess right now.

2.      Lent.  I wrote a big paragraph just now about what I was giving up and my strategy and my excuses for sucking so hard last year. Deleted.  I was reminded the sacrifices God wants are not the ones I boast about on my blog. Thanks H.S. for catching me before I put a huge foot in my mouth.  Dear Lord, help me to seek you this season, and every time I feel the twinge of my cravings be reminded of what real sacrifice is and then go live that.

3.       MY BOOK!!!! So I mentioned before that I havebeen writing with a group called “Family Secrets” and we are self-publishing a book!!!! And we are having a Gala Book Launch on March 7, 7-9 pm at the Kootenai Brown Museum in Pincher Creek. Come. There will be wine. And so many good stories to share. The book is officially titled, Family Secrets 27 Mostly True Stories by Southern Alberta Authors. I can’t believe I am going to have a legitimate publication. (Self published - but published nonetheless!)

4.       King Sized Bed. If you have a family - especially with little people, it is my opinion that you need a king sized bed. It is like having an office. Almost all of life can take place in this location. Right now, in my “office” I am working on my blog, hanging out with a three month old, folding laundry, changing diapers, working on my dreads, communicating via social networks, and reading. Ok. I am not doing all of those things this very second, but all of the elements for these activities surround me and I have done all of these things in this location in the past hour or two. MUST HAVE.

just a small view from the "office"

5.       New Year Goals. I have 5 goals this New Year - and not all of them have definitive end results, so I guess maybe they technically aren’t goals, but I hate the word “resolutions” so I am going with goals. Here they are and very briefly how I plan to accomplish them:

a.       Lose 30 pounds. It is kind of nerve racking for me to put that out there - but I DO need to lose some weight. Thirty pounds isn’t a crazy amount. But it isn’t a little amount either. I am cutting refined sugar from my diet and I have been exercising three times a week plus trying to go for daily walks. #losehatenotweight #loseweighttoo

I've been working on this goal since a few months after my first babe was born.
Time to get it wrapped up!

b.      Write more. I am motivated to write more because of the Family secrets compilation, so I am going to continue to follow this dream. I am going to try to journal five days a week, using writing posts sometimes, as well as try to post to my blog at least monthly - but hopefully more.

c.       Read more. I’d like to read 12 books this year. One a month. It shouldn’t be too challenging if I can learn to limit my social media time. Also reading improves writing. I’ll let you know what books I have finished. Another strategy will be to try to keep some reading material near where I do most of my nursing. Like here, in my “office.”

An old anthology of Grey Owl's writing. First published 1938.

d.      Simplify life. This basically means purge things out of my house/life. I’ve been through my clothes. I have a big closet that is next and a buffet/hutch to clean out and ship out. And toys. How could these two tiny people already have acquired so much STUFF? I constantly have a box on the go where I chuck stuff to go to the thrift store down the street.

e.      Get my dreads under control. See quick take #1.

6.       I feel like I have said enough. So consider this early dismissal. You may go outside and play now.

Peace.

Update on Dreadlocks

The finished product *for now*
I also trimmed my own bangs because who needs to pay a hairdresser?
#frugal #cheap

Well, the dreads are all in. I finally got the last ones knotted up the first weekend in August, which was a huge relief.  I had been trying to get them done for two months.  I don't know if I should mark June as their birthday or August, but it will make me feel more accomplished to say June,  so I'll probably go with that.  I really thought once my husband was on summer vacation that I'd have nothing but time to sit and back comb my hair and that I'd get them done in a couple of days. But then he was off work and I just wanted to hang out with him! So we hiked a lot and went for walks or took our little one to the park. Or did some renovations. Turned out that the time I had to work on my dreads was mostly in the vehicle as we drove to places to have fun! So it took a lot longer to wrap them up than I had anticipated.

On top of Mt. Albert in Beauvais Lake Provincial Park

And now, my friends, the maintenance. I am already behind on it and as a result have some dreadlocks forming congas at the roots. As well, my hair is supa fuzzy on top. And everywhere. I did a couple hours worth of maintenance on the top/front dreadlocks because I had a wedding to attend and wanted to try to tame the beast a bit, but that was last week and today I couldn't really tell I had done anything.  I NEED to get back at it because I have just a few short weeks until I am going to seriously neglect them for months! There is a user I follow on Instagram called @wonderlocks and they posted a video on YouTube about how to deal with congas and how to prevent them.  I haven't watched it. I probably should. Instead, I just cut them apart if I can't pull them apart and use my crochet hook to try and tighten those roots up. I partly think I am doing it wrong and partly think, "What the crap. They are just big knots. How could there possibly be a wrong way to make them?" 

After all, I do what I want.

There are occasions in life I believe in taking the time to watch a YouTube video or six to learn something before you try it. Like I did before I started this whole dreadlock journey.  Or when I learned to drywall. But this is not one of those times. The few minutes it would take me to find, watch, and evaluate the usefulness of these videos is more than I am willing to spend.  I could just be doing the maintenance with that time. Or reading my kid "The Gruffalo" one more time. Or writing. Or cleaning/cooking/gardening/laundering/some other useful if tedious task required in the keeping of a household. There is a time for trolling the internet for information and there is a time to just work it out on your own.

So I am up late drafting a blog post instead of dealing with my conga situation. Late because I spent an hour scrolling through Instagram. Bah. 

*I know complaining about social media in a blog post is kind of biting the hand that feeds, but this blog makes me no money. I also know I am going to link this post on my Instagram and Facebook pages in hopes some of you friendly people out there read it, so there is also that irony, but I am going to go a head and share my struggle with the mindless scroll anyway.*

I need to also get a handle on my social media habits.  Time to trim back on the screen time and think more about my creative time, family time and necessary task time. Although in the past couple of days I have made 4 extra freezer meals swept the floors (which I do plan to wash tomorrow) and wiped down the bottom half of the kitchen walls. Thanks to no Insta' or Facebook during the day. I don't know if I'm nesting, realized I only have limited time to accomplish some of these pressing tasks, or am experiencing social media freedom, but I am grateful to have those things done. I like looking at the walls and seeing significantly less dirt streaks and fingerprints. 

Tomorrow I'll be satisfied with washing the floors, finishing the design work on an anthology project I am part of, and actually doing some work on these dreads. On top of the regular things like little kid music class and having my friend and her kids over for lunch. (UPDATE: The floors never got washed, I still need to wrap up that design work, and I finally worked on my dreads about two days after I wrote the draft of this post for about an hour. Life, my friends.)

I had better get to bed. Looks like a big day tomorrow.

Peace

Writing Prompt #16

I have been writing down the writing prompts that Lil Blue Boo has been posting on her blog, and while she is on prompt #40-something, I am way back on number 16.

Since I have been trying to think about craft and challenge when it comes to writing, I decided to tackle this one as a poem. I haven't written a poem in at least 3 years.

Prompt #16  -- Pick one word and write where it takes you:

CORNERED

KNOW-IT-ALL

SALTWATER

All life

is made of 

saltwater.

People say Adam

was made of 

dust.

But it was the

saltwater that brought

him to life.

Saltwater oozes 

from our pores

from our eyes.

Expressed from our

bodies when we 

are wounded.

Or when we 

are elated,

united.

Our first home is 

a dark sea of 

saltwater;

Where we learn 

to breathe

to dance.

At the end they 

drain the sea from

our bodies

And put us in 

the ground

to dry.

Peace

About Writing....

Journal-ling on my deck. AKA "my happy place"

I have been getting excited about writing again. To be honest, I am always excited about writing. I have an inner monologue that runs in my head as if I were constantly writing a journal entry. Some nights I lay awake and think about what I wish I was writing in my journal, but I often don't get up to write. Instead, I rationalize that I am too tired, or will need to be up with the babe soon and I should just go to sleep. I would probably be further ahead if I just got up and wrote for half an hour and then went back to bed instead of mulling it all over for an hour or two.

The elusive "sleeping baby"

Tonight, I didn't even try to lay down to sleep. I went out to a movie with some girls and had a large Coke and popcorn, so I am all jazzed up on sugar and caffeine. Not to mention all that popcorn in my pregnant body is giving me some serious heartburn. Babies take up so much room! There will be no sleeping for a little while yet. 

Since July, I have been more motivated to make an effort to write every damn day. It's a hashtag. I have been following the writing prompts of "lilblueboo's" blog and while I have only done about a dozen of them, they are a great way to get me putting pen to paper, telling stories I might never have written down and actually making me think about my craft. So far, I hadn't written anything today besides copying some recipes from the interwebs into my "make-your-own-cookbook", so this is an opportunity I will not waste. And what better way than to put up a blog post?

Writing Prompt #6 - Courtesy of lilblueboo.com

I have been working with a writing group at my local museum. The title of the group is "Family Secrets" and the goal was simply to get people writing their stories. Especially stories about family history. There are so many things in life that are lost because no one took time to do a little recording. We aren't a group who is about genealogy or chronology or even names of places. We are simply trying to tell our stories. The beauty is that as we tell our stories our histories come out in them and are recorded. We leave a legacy of ourselves and also those who have influenced us. And maybe nobody else gives a crap, but since stories are a universal glue that holds humanity together, I think someone somewhere might actually crap. Or give one. Or whatever. 

At first, I wasn't sure I was fitting in as a writer with the group. Everyone else has stories of horse drawn wagons, homesteading, and one room schoolhouses. My stories have a similar feel, as I grew up largely in a rural environment, but my stories also feature technological advances such as electricity and tend to feel more like a journal entry. (Obviously, most of my writing experience takes place merely between the coil bound covers of my journals, so besides university papers, I don't have much experience as someone who actually "writes".) It took me a little bit to realize that my stories were the same as my counterparts - even if my style was a bit different. I was writing about being a kid, growing up, funny anecdotes, relationships with parents, and the other members of the group were too. It is just that they are all 30-50 years older than me. 

Our leader, a local author named Tyler Trafford, has been extremely helpful and encouraging getting our group moving forward, getting stories down, sharing our voices. He even suggested we create an anthology of our stories to publish and will be walking us through the process. He has a great deal of knowledge and experience to share with all of us amateurs. In fact, he has really challenged me as a writer, which no one has done since my 20th Century Irish Drama class in university. That professor was an extremely tough marker, but I didn't take her grading as an invitation to improve my craft. It was merely a formula I needed to passably achieve in order to make it through her class. I learned in university that my writing ability was not necessarily magnificent, and while I have always harboured hidden hopes of one day being published for my own merits, I let my laziness and my arrogance lull me into believing that my words were somehow....a big deal. That if I bothered to write it down, it was good enough. That is the danger of only writing in a journal . The only audience is me. And I know exactly what I am trying to say. I like my writing style. I don't notice my grammatical errors. I think I am witty and entertaining and profound. That is also the beauty of just being a journal-er. No one insists I do better. No one challenges me about my craft. No one can burst my bubble.

Tyler burst my bubble. It has taken me a couple of days to grapple with it.

He is SO encouraging. He calls and leaves messages about how he and everyone enjoys my stories and that my words are so great. It has been nice having people pump my tires about writing like I did in junior high. But - He told me I do well at getting words out and once I spew it all out on paper, I get lazy. He told me my pieces were good, but if I would just invest more time and effort into them, they would be great. The elements are there. However, I need to rework them.

I want to protest. To say, "but I am so busy with a little kid in the house." I want to say, "I've never had to put so much extra effort in before." I want to say, "Aren't my words, the way I say them, enough? Aren't they already magic?"

You know what, though? He is right. It happens all the time with me. I get excited about doing something, but then I don't pursue it to my full potential. And it is OK to do that. I can't throw my whole self behind every project I take up - it isn't realistic to think that I can be fully invested in every endeavour I find interesting. Nobody can.

This is where my problem is: I have this black balloon I have been packing with me for years. It is the idea that I am kind of good at a bunch of things - but excellent at none. That there is nothing about me that makes me special. At least not in tangible gifts. My husband and I used to have this joke between us: this is Mark, (followed by a lengthy list of his accomplishments and talents), and this is his wife, Val, she's a good friend. 

The truth? I have never really put myself out there in a way that has challenged my abilities and talents. I had enough to get by - and get by pretty well - so I left it at that. Honestly, it is easier to coast through than to make myself vulnerable by really striving. That way if I fail I know I haven't really tried anyway. Super cliche and super lame, but also, ashamedly, super true. I have the potential to learn how to be excellent at writing. I have been keeping a journal fairly consistently since the 8th grade. I think that is a pretty good indicator about my passion for writing. Journal-ling is the only thing that I started in my childhood and have continued through my life. I have always wanted to write down the things I think, feel and experience. The craft of it is something that I can learn to improve on. I can learn to be an artist with my words. And you know what? Even though I am interested in trying and doing lots of things from knitting to tanning leather to pottery, I will be happy to do all of those things decently - but I want to be excellent at writing. Maybe one day I will be published for my own merits.

I guess that means I should spend some time editing this post before I put it up.

Peace.

Not Good, Not Better, But Best

My dear, beautiful, inspiring, amazing, godly friend (who is came to visit this past weekend!) forwarded this message on to me - and of course, it came right on time! So I thought I would send it out there to everyone who is connected to me - who knows, you might get it right on time too!

NOT GOOD, NOT BETTER, BUT BEST

"Well done! You are an industrious and reliable servant. Since you were dependable in a small matter I will put you in charge of larger affairs. Come, share your master's joy!" -Matthew 25:21

The Lord doesn't call us to do good.  "No one is good but God alone" (Mk 10:18). He doesn't call us to do better - better than others or even better than before. The Lord doesn't like to compare. He simply wants us to do our best. Our best may not be better. It may not even be that good. Nonetheless, the Lord is pleased with our best. It is a sacrifice acceptable to Him.

   We all can do our best any time we want to. Our best doesn't require ability, skill, training, or even maturity. A little boy can do his best. A feeble elderly man can do his best. We can always do our best. It's just a matter of trying our best. The Lord is not concerned with how many talents we start with (Mt 25:15).

    He just wants us to do our best with what we've got. Ten talents are pleasing to Him if they're our best. A thousand talents are displeasing if they're not our best.

-------- So "whatever you do, work at it with your whole being. Do it for the Lord rather than for men" (Col 3:23). To do our best, we must give our all. This is the first commandment: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind" (Lk 10:27).


Prayer: Father, may I not have good days but best days for Your glory.

Promise: "We belong neither to darkness nor to night; therefore let us not be asleep like the rest, but awake and sober!" -1 Thes 5:5-6

This is not my creation and I did not compose it but I am forwarding it because it is the way I think and it blessed me greatly -- I SEND THIS WITH MY LOVE AND PRAYERS -- FR. CLAIR

So, Dreads.....

It's been about three weeks since I started this dreaded journey. Sorry.  I couldn't resist. 

:)

Anyway,  I am still at the beginning as not all my little braids have been transformed into dreadlocks yet. I have about 15 braids left to go. Ugh. Let me tell you, this whole thing is not for the faint of heart or scalp.  Or the vain. On Instagram when you follow people with dreadlocks, even baby dreads, they have one picture up of their normal hair and then the next day or two and there is a photo of them with perfectly shaped knotted and placed dreads. It is deceptive, friends.  I have been doing this on my own and there is no such thing as going to bed one day and and waking up with beautiful dreads. I have had these little braids in for 20-odd days and they get fuzzier and frizzier every day. I have to pull the dreads and braids up in a bun and wrap a scarf around my chaos just to go out. I'll post some photos.  Seriously.  It is out of control up there.

Once you have a head of new dreadlocks, it is recommended that you let them chill for about a week before you wash them, but since I've been at this three weeks already, I don't have the luxury of letting the newbies have a week to work their magic before they are assaulted by shampoo and water.  *YES! Dreadlocks are meant to be washed. For some reason people think that dreads are dirty and greasy, but the opposite should be true. Hair dreads better if it is clean and free of oils, so a set of squeaky clean locs are definitely more desirable to a head of smelly, greasy tangles.* The cleaning is good, but shampoo is slippery and can leave moisturizing residue that can cause those hard earned knots to untangle. So even if my two or three new locs are looking tight, after a shower and a couple of days they are loosening up and getting fuzzy and misshapen. And then they need maintenance.

I am at the point where I have over half my head done. Although many of my dreads need some TLC and attention, I am feeling like I should just hurry and get those last ones done so I can focus on the maintenance and trying to curb some of the frizz in a productive way - by snagging it up into a dreadlock! Of course I started with the bottom and am working my way to the top so all my ridiculous fuzz is sitting mostly on the top of my head. I would do it that way.

The creation of a dread

I could use wax to help shape the locs and minimize the frizz.  I don't want to. It has worked great for many others, but I just have an aversion to putting it in my hair.  When I was researching online, I found more people opposed to wax and so I have settled myself into that camp. Not from experience or knowledge or anything other than it just seems like the best way for me to go with this. Kinda like a gut thing. I think that wax would make the dreads dirtier - stuff sticks to wax - and I would worry more about things like my dreads drying properly after a wash and potentially developing knot rot. Ewww. It's a thing. I am just going to work those puppies over with my crochet hook as much as possible over the summer and hope they lock up. I got some bar shampoo from LUSH which I will use and I am going to try an apple cider vinegar rinse after as recommended by an etsy shop owner who makes her own shampoo for dreadlocks. One thing I have learned about dreadlocks in the past week is that they may need to be moisturized. It seems that since the oils from your scalp no longer get worked down through your tresses, they can become dry and brittle and that isn't a good scene for dreadlocks either.  So I will have to figure that out, but all in due time.

Let me also just ask, can't a girl just be a 30 something, Catholic, stay at home mom who doesn't smoke weed or read tarot cards and want to have dreadlocks? I don't own any barefoot sandals (anymore - though I did as a kid!) or have any Buddha or Vishnu statues, or burn incense - although I really love the smell of incense when it's used at mass - or ohm. I feel like I am a bit of an anomaly. At an end of the year event at the Catholic school my husband teaches at, our member of the board of education, who I have been getting to know through some other venues, (it is a small town) questioned me about my sprouting dreadlocks. "I heard all about it in a hemp shop in the Caribbean!" she told me. She wanted to know why I wanted them and what my dad had to say about it! I just want them. I think they look cool. "I'm not Rasta, or anything," I assured her with a laugh thinking about how I might look as a Eucharistic minister at the end of the month with my knotted locs sticking out. Also, I'm a 30 year old woman who has been making questionable choices about my hair styles for YEARS now. Who the heck cares what my DAD has to say about it? What the what?

http://seekingfaith.stedward.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/shutterstock_246673681.jpg

I am not Rasta, in fact I realized I don't know much about what Rastafari really is so I of course Googled it and what I know I read here: http://listverse.com/2014/01/06/10-things-to-know-about-rastafari-beliefs/  The university degrees in me are screaming in my ears about reliable sources, of which I can't be sure this is one. 

fourthy.deviantart.com

Is it so strange to want dreads but none of the stereotypical culture that comes with it? Now I'm not saying that I am not a little more hippie, a little more free spirit, a little more on the fringe than some. Maybe I am. Or at least I kinda was before moving to this little town that is a strange combination of Red Neck-Granola Crunchers. But I would just like to feel like I'm not the only dreadhead who loves Jesus, is into gardening, eats red meat with delight and reads papal encyclicals. Anyone with me?

Peace.

UPDATE: 

I wrote this post almost 3 weeks ago! I STILL don't have all my dreads in. Seven(ish) to go. 

What do you mean having a one year old and a renovation project and a husband who is now off on summer vacation and a bunch of hiking trips equals very little advancement on my dread-venture AND no time to properly edit, add photos and post to my blog? I don't get it.

Why Is Hair Such A Big Deal?

I am not a long haired girl. It just isn’t me. I cut my hair off for the first time in grade 8 - which made me about 13 years old - and I grew it back initially because the change was just such a huge shock I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. But within about a year, I cut my hair again. And then again. And again. I cut it about three times in a week shorter and shorter until we got to a place where I loved the new look. I went from shoulder-ish length down to what I lovingly refer to as “hockey hair”, to a strange bowl-esque/mushroom-y kind of cut, to a super short pixie cut. I LOVED it. My mom HATED it. My dad said it was just hair, and so I got to keep it short, and short it stayed all through high school, most of university and into my adult life. I have had long hair twice since I finally got it down to my beloved pixie way back then: I grew it out for two years conveniently around the time I got married so my wedding photos have a pretty sweet up-do. I like to call it a faux hawk/bump with class. Which was quickly followed with a real mohawk; red and black with lightening shaved in the side of my head. The second time I have had long hair is now.

The weeding do, 2006

The hawk that followed.

I feel like I don’t even look like myself if my hair is down and flowy and, ugh. It is just weird. Even my husband doesn’t think it is me.

June 1, 2015 This is my hair as it is right now. Just showered, not combed, not straightened.
I am about to section it into braids to await dreadlocks.

I have run the gamut of colours and short edgy dos. Mohawks, fauxhawks, long bangs, rat tails, spikes, and shaved. I loved them all. About three years ago, I decided to start growing my hair. I had a goal. Something I hadn’t done before. Something that was going to take some commitment. Something that made everyone cringe. Dreadlocks.

Here are a few examples of the hair I have had over the past 10 years:

I am not a planner by nature. I don’t have 5 or 10 year goals. We have a supper menu on a chalk board in the hallway because my husband got tired of me never knowing what the crap I was going to make for supper that day. So the biggest plans in my life are what’s for supper Monday to Friday, and the rest just comes at me. Or I come at it. I guess it depends on the day.

BUT. I planned for this hair. I have a goal. Dreads.

Also, I should add that I am a strange combination of an opportunist - looking for someone else to do the hard work for me - and a “do it the hard way” kind of girl. I don’t like to spray weeds. I like to pull them. (why? I don’t know. I feel like it is more meaningful. And more effective.) I recently made soap. I know I can buy it. But I MADE some. And I think that’s cool.

Anyway. I put out a plea on Facebook to my friends and family for someone to help me out with putting these dreads in my hair. I really only have a limited amount of time where putting them in makes sense, because soon my hands are going to be full full full of a new baby and a toddler, so I wanted to maximize the summer and this time with only one kid to really work at these dreads. (In case you are unaware - dreadlocks are very labour intensive for the first little while - up to a year - while they mature and lock in. If they aren’t looked after, they get gnarly and scary) I got lots of encouragement - and some cringes - but no one offered up their time or energy to help me out. (To be fair, recently, a friend I know who has helped maintain her brother's dreads has offered to help.)

I went to a local salon for a bang trim. I asked there. I mean, it doesn’t hurt to ask. $100 an hour. For at least 8 hours. Probably more like 10. Honey, ain’t no one got a grand to drop on a hairstyle. Please. So. Here I am. I have a head full of hair that doesn’t feel like it belongs to me, and a goal. And a bit of a time limit. Sigh. I guess I’m going to have to do it myself. At least I am not scared of the hard way. I guess my weeds are just going to have to wait to be pulled while I dread my hair (and blog about it!).

My hair is a big part of the expression of who I am. It has been for a long time. It is loud when I don’t feel like I have the voice to be loud. It attracts attention. It has a mind of its own. So, while I thought about maybe just giving up and cutting the whole mess off, going back to my “safe” hair styles - I decided I just need to go for it. It is going to take me some time to get it done, it took me two days just to section my hair and braid it so it would be somewhat organized for this endeavour. But I think I want to document this too, because I am really excited to see how it all goes. And in a year, to see what they look like. If it doesn’t work out, that’s ok too. I’m not scared of a pair of clippers. J

Braids in. Now for the real work to begin.

My first dreadlock of many.

I know most people don’t give two poops about a post on hair - let alone a plan to document my hair in the coming months, but if you made it to the end of this post, I feel like you should be rewarded and if you comment or if you know me well enough to send me a text or email, I will send you something just for you to say thanks for actually reading, and at least pretending to care about how firmly I have attached my identity to my hair. You are either a great friend, or you are super bored!

Peace!