Have you been wondering where I was? Were you biting your nails in desperate worry for me? Were you anxiously watching the clock as you compulsively checked for a new post? Were you just about to call the Missing Persons Bureau? No? Did you hear that sound? That was the sound of my ego deflating.
I know I have been MIA lately and haven’t done updates on ProjectTHINK, Rock the Gray and the House Declutter Project, or anything else, for that matter. I could bore you with my list of excuses. I won’t. But I really have been beyond swamped the last few weeks, including, but not limited to a complete homeschool restructure, an uptick in ministerial responsibilities, being flat-on-my-back sick, a death in the family, finding out a thief went on a shopping spree with my debit card, a child with sudden and mysterious hives, busting the beta fish tank and many more super-fun things. Try not to envy my life. Surely things will settle down soon, though, because I want to tell you about way more interesting things than my recent life.
First, let’s get those pesky over-due updates out of the way. Let’s start with the super-interesting topic of hair — my hair to be exact. Or your hair. That would be more fun, and probably a lot better looking right now. But since I can’t talk about your hair, we’ll have to stick with mine.
My hair is UGLY. No kidding. That isn’t mal-adjusted humility talking. It’s just reality. My hair is an odd mix of white hair, barely salted brown hair and orange hair. P-R-E-T-T-Y. I can feel people staring when I’m running errands. I try not to notice the perplexed expression on their faces. I keep waiting for someone to offer to pay for a dye-job as their charitable service to humanity.
Growing out your gray is like unlocking a very private room that contains the hidden, dark secrets of how you really feel about yourself, how others view you, your ideas about beauty, human value and so much more. You begin facing the reality that some people will always judge you based on your looks rather than your character, and deciding if you are okay with that prospect. It is a deeply jolting experience. There are no more secrets from yourself. Who knew hair was such a cloaking device?
But never mind all that. You want pictures. You want to see me in my ugly agony. Admit it. (It’s okay. I won’t judge. I’ve been stalking other “growing out the gray” girls on the Internet to see their awkward stage.)
This is about a 1 1/2 months into the journey. My hair grows fairly quickly, so there’s that. Here I am with that orange part all tied up in a bun:
Can you see the multi-tones? Here, let’s have a closer look:
You can see the white at the temples, the salt & pepper brown further back and the incredibly orange color left over from the old henna (which I keep trying fade with various tricks that don’t do much).
Just in case I had a problem with vanity…
this is what I get to sport on my head day in and day out.
Grow, little hairs, GROW!!!!
Have a great day (with hair of a single color…),
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