Hair Retrospective 2 of 3 - High School and College

I left of last time in Junior High School, when my hair first became wildly curly.  Let's continue our journey, shall we?

In ninth grade, I discovered gel. And got a little overzealous in my curl-controlling attempts.  I think this is L.A. Look, the green one.  My hair was literally hard to the touch. And crispy.  And awesome?

I actually think this from some summer in junior high, but I'm throwing it into this series because THIS IS WHAT MY HAIR LOOKS LIKE RIGHT NOW. I'm not so good with the brushing/combing/etc.

Tenth grade, when I got switched over to private hippie school.  Thus begins what will continue into a long history of 'hair twisted up and back.'  My bershon face is because I broke my front tooth the week prior, and I WILL NEVER BE PRETTY AGAIN AND LIFE IS SO UNFAIR.

In 11th grade I start smiling again even though you can see my horrible unsightly broken front tooth.  My hair is it's natural hair color, shortish, and it's actually much curlier than this, but by now I've figured out that if I keep it up when it's wet, it will dry much straighter.

Senior year, hair down and fairly productless/in its natural state.  I think there might be some sort of lemon juice thing going on, but I was pretty blonde just from outdoorsness, etc.

Hey! College! So. College? Yeah.

Then I dyed my hair brown VERY briefly (don't have a pic online to show you), and then I tried to dye it back to blonde, which is where we'll start up with photos again.

Oh wait.

Here's a super washed out pic, but you can see that my hair is fading out of the brown into the....something?

Yeah, see the weird blonde dye line happening halfway down my face?  That's the evidence of the brown hair.

I think this is more or less back to what my hair looked like (naturally) when I still spent a lot of time outdoors/in the sunshine and before I got preggers and stuff. 
Um. Yeah. Also I'm dressed like chicken and putting my hand on my friend Cody's stuffed banana hammock.

Gratuitous picture of me in South Africa, next to some lions, in Kruger National Park.

BRAIDS!!!!!!

Next time, post-college to now.  At some point I get married to my bangs and refuse to ever ever EVER give them up.
EVER.

Diptych - Vespertine

Kellee and I have started using dictionary.com words of the day (eventually even the most brilliant minds run short on ideas), and today our choice is vespertine.

Of, or pertaining to, the evening.

And do you know why my standardized test scores are always artificially high? Because I actually remember learning that word, in junior high.

I threw a fit, and we're taking next week off because I'll be in New York City making an ass of myself in front of a bunch of other bloggers. 

The week AFTER that (8/11), our theme will be bijou (I totally recommend looking THAT one up, I was thinking of bayou, and THEY ARE NOT THE SAME THING).

All diptych info, including explainy information and a list of participants, can be found here.

One Year

Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land

Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:

"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.

 -Percy Bysshe Shelley

BlogHer - Pro Tips

1.  Whining on twitter about what parties you didn't get invited to makes you sound:  like a whiner.  Cut it out.  There will always be private parties, at any conference, and there will always be people who aren't invited.
I say this as someone who probably wasn't invited either.
Would you believe that I'm not invited to MOST PARTIES?
It's like, only my FRIENDS want to invite me to their parties, and complete strangers who have never heard of me couldn't care less about my attendance.
Go.
Figure.
Stop worrying about what you're NOT invited to, start thinking about the places you ARE going, suck it up, and have fun.

2.  Most people won't recognize you.  Don't worry, most people don't recognize me.  I don't recognize most people.
Seriously, I'm bad with faces.
And names.
Even if you talk to So-and-So every freaking day on The Twittah, unless you've printed up your avatar and pasted it to your forehead? Don't expect too much.
If you do paste your avatar to your forehead?
Can I have whatever you're having? Please?

3.  Don't get your panties in a bunch because everyone's talking about shoes and clothes and pedicures.  If you don't care about that stuff then just continue not to care about that stuff, filter out the noise, and carry on with your day, easy peasy mac n cheesy.
Similarly, don't get your panties in a bunch TALKING about shoes and clothes and pedicures.
If you shop at major national retailers? Someone else will probably have your dress.  Or your bag.  Or your earrings.  Or whatever.
There are couple thousand women at this conference, and I guaran-goddamn-tee you that a big old chunk did their shopping at your favorite store.  (And based on my highly scientific twitter research, that is especially true if your favorite store is Anthropologie (guilty as charged)).

4.  Go for whatever reasons you're going (social, business, what have you), practice patience, follow the golden rule.
Have fun.
Everything will be fine.
Don't forget your psych meds.

Julia Julia Julia

Hey Julia,

I know I've mentioned it a few times before, but we've been friends since we were seven.  That's pretty fucking rad, no?

(Click to embiggen)

I'm glad I still know you, and I'm extra glad that you're still so ridiculously awesome.  

Here's to another 20 years.

Get out there and have the best damned birthday in the history of ever. I love you sweetness.

-Jenny

Who knows how to make it a night out? Me, that's who.

(Photos sniped from @califmom, cuz that's how I do)

Hair Retrospective 1 of 3 - Birth to Junior High

Look at me with my baldness! 

So. That continues for awhile (I'm the baby on the left).

Aw I'm two and still don't have enough hair to cobble together a pony tail (on the right).

2 1/2 - is that the best we could do? Really? It's awfully floofy.

And when she was almost three, she finally grew herself the baby mullet.

At 3 1/2 my hair was long enough for pigtails.

The start of the bedraggled hippie child little messy fluffhead years.  It gets worse.

Well, first it gets better for a minute. In kindergarten my dad did my hair.

Oh yeah, there it is.

When I told my mom bangs? She should have said no.

Awesome.

This is fourth grade? Someone needs to brush my hair. Although I can vouch for my mother: I wouldn't let anyone brush my hair.

Huh. So...this is pretty much what I do with my hair today. Some things don't change.

Let's skip ahead to 6th grade, and the greatest outfit in all the land.

And then when I was 12, my hair got VERY SUDDENLY CURLY. VERY CURLY.

Stay tuned for my next installment: Awkward high school years and college mistakes!

You Sir, are ALLERGIC

So yesterday morning I'm sitting at my desk at work, where I've been sitting five days a week for over two years now, when my eyes started watering uncontrollably.  I went from normal Desk Sitting to OMG IT LOOKS LIKE I'M WEEPING AND I DON'T KNOW WHY WHAT'S GOING ON WITH MY FACE in about thirty seconds.
That was weird.
Then my nose started running.
I splashed some water on my face and told a bunch of coworkers that I was NOT having a nervous breakdown, despite appearances.
Then my face started getting all puffy and swollen, and there was a collective decision made by the Forces of Work that homegirl needs to get her ass into urgent care, stat.
Then on the way my throat started closing up.
Then I got there and they shot me full of whatever they shoot you full of when you're having an allergic reaction such that your body is trying to kill you.
Then because somewhere in there my Cough of Doom (a preexisting condition) flared up, I got to breathe some steroids on the nebulizer.

Anyhow, prior to ALLERGIC FIT OF MYSTERY AND DEATH:
I ate kashi cereal and soy milk for breakfast, same as 90% of mornings.
Had coffee, same as 110% of mornings.
Was wearing clothes I wear all the time that aren't made out of weird materials.

Allergies that I have (that I know about (that I don't think are related to yesterday because, well, I DON'T HAVE THAT KIND OF JOB)):
Latex* - When I was working in the medical field it got to a point where I would break out in a rash if I touched anything containing latex.  I remember we had a set of masks that were SUPPOSED to be latex free but the tie-thingies WERE NOT, so I had this weird rash ON MY FACE.  Now that I DON'T work with the stuff every damn day this seems to have eased/mellowed/perhaps disappeared? I've definitely come into contact with latex in the past 2-3 years without negative effect.  My preference is still to avoid it though, for obvious reasons.
*Why yes, this is the worst allergy EVER IN THE WORLD, and it can be VERY AWKWARD TO DISCOVER, if you know what I mean.

Nonoxynol 9 - This is ALSO a very awkward allergy to discover.

I get a rash when I spend A LOT of time in chlorinated pools, and all sorts of different beauty products make me break out, but I think that's more about sensitive skin that allergies.

My eyes get really crazy itchy and dry sometimes, but that seems to be more related to Extensive Computer Time than any other variable.

And that's it, that I know about, for preexisting allergies.
So what do you think?
I didn't do anything different or new, I didn't eat anything different or new, the weather has been the same (and that would be some SERIOUS sudden onset hay fever type allergies), etc.

I have an epi-pen now.

And also a MYSTERIOUS ALLERGY.