Glamour Shots

So I did it. I finally made the appointment and got my hair done. It had been soooo long. Like it was in bad shape before I was pregnant with Christopher, and then once I'm pregnant, all feelings of caring about my appearance generally fly out the window. Too busy feeling like garbage all the time to worry about my roots.

For awhile there when my hair would get too long I would just walk into a great clips and have them whack several inches off, but that's it. Now I have highlights. I was so happy to have it done, to find someone (cause by this point it had been so long, I didn't even know where to go) to do my hair that had been recommended to me several times over, that when I got there my only instructions were that I wanted it long enough to put into a pony tail. I really don't think I could function without a pony tail. I need to be able to just pull it back and forget about it. So I plopped into her chair, and gave her free reign. I mean really, at this point I could have walked out of there with pink and blue striped hair, but as long as it would go into a pony tail I would have been fine.

Before I had kids, I had straight hair-(me- circa 1995- what you are not seeing in this picture are the go-with-everything Dr. Marten boots I lived in.)

Unless I was in jr. high and I permed it- but even then my hair never really held a perm. (this next picture is me- circa 1991- we don't even need to discuss the outfit I picked out for picture day. My fashion sense-or lack thereof- could be a whole other topic -and after 17 years, this is pretty much the first time this picture has been seen publicly, I hate it that much, but I needed proof of how bad my hair looks with a perm- can we say "yikes" though? Even John visibly flinched when he saw this picture)
With each consecutive kid, my hair got curlier and curlier. The other day, someone actually asked me if I got my hair permed. (Now that all that weight is gone, it looks curlier.)

So the day that I got my hair chopped off, ( I think 8 inches or so, I didn't keep track) she also straightened it, to make sure she got it all even. I always love it the day that you get your hair done, that's the one day that it looks the best cause your hair was in the hands of a professional. It looked pretty good. I even got a compliment from a teenager that I know but have never even spoken to before.

So add that to the fact that there are very few pictures out there of me that I like, or at least that have been taken in the last decade or so, and because of blogging and/or facebook, I've been in need of one from time to time, and so I swallowed my pride and took like a million self portraits, hoping for one that I wouldn't hate. I had to open the blinds to let in some natural light so I wouldn't have to use the flash, and I felt pretty stinking ridiculous standing there in front of those windows, taking pictures of myself. Believe me, there is a reason why I'm the photographer in this house I'm much more comfortable on the other side of the camera. So I took a bunch, hoping for a good shot, and deleted most of them. I had to cut myself off, because I'm fairly self-critical, and then I would have had no pictures left as proof that I had good hair for a day.

I'm considering investing in a straightening thingy for my hair (flat iron? I can't remember what they are called.) Of course that's just another example of how the grass is always greener, when I had straight hair, I permed it, now that it's fairly curly, I want to straighten it. A girl's gotta have options though. Of course the other day, I was wearing it in two pony tails, and Madison told me I looked like a cheerleader. I'd bet good money nobody's ever said that about me before.

And don't even get me started on styling products these days. Back in the day, there were three- hairspray, mousse, and gel. For the most part, I got the concept there. The results might have left a little to be desired, but I didn't feel so lost. Nowadays, I get a little overwhelmed in that section of the store these days. Cream, wax, pomade, amongst so many others. I even have hair taffy. (I haven't figured out what that goo has to do with candy yet.) My poor daughter. I hope she has friends that can help her.