Trying to do daily updates is so the first week of June.
G is for Graffiti Art
I’m much too much of a chicken to actually try my hand at graffiti art, but I do love looking at it and taking pictures of it. The title of this blog is even based on some street art I started noticing while living and going to school in Philadelphia. You can read all about them here.
H is for Hair
My hair and I have a complicated relationship I think most people, and especially women, can relate to. As far back as I can remember, I kept my hair in a chin-length bob with straight-across-the-forehead bangs. Though the length varied depending on my age, by high school I was so uncaring, I kept the short bob all the way through graduation. When my grandmother took me to her hairdresser and I found the length she gave me too short for even my taste, I let it grow out for about three or four years. It got to boob-length before I re-bobbed it again, and unsatisfied, I came up with a plan.
After a lot of planning and money-saving, I visited my campus’ extremely expensive hairdresser, who was a great guy and had so much fun chopping my hair into a pixie cut and dying it pink, he didn’t mind that it took a full three hours. I don’t think he got to experiment like that very often. I spent another couple years after that keeping it short and dying it black when the pink became too difficult to maintain.
After college, I let my hair grow again, convinced it was the right thing to do for the wedding I’ll eventually be having. I thought having plenty of hair to work with would be ideal when the big day came. But as we’ve continued pushing it back due to financial constraints and laziness, I found the surplus of hair annoying. Just like any time my hair was long enough to get in my face, I’d pull it back into a ponytail or bun to keep it from tangling and getting in the way. I never did anything with it, and it had extra waves and weird crimps from all the elastic bands I rarely took out.
The result of my frustration is the above picture: hair short and natural, no color or highlights. I might again turn it to straw experimenting with color in the future, but for right now it’s staying that short, wedding photos be damned.
I is for Irritants
Irritants are a big problem to me. I have sensitive skin, and I mean REALLY sensitive. I can’t use generic or even “normal” soap, otherwise my skin dries out almost instantly. I can’t wear certain fabrics because my skin reacts badly to them. Most shampoo is a nightmare on my hair and scalp, and gently scratching my skin leaves red marks that last much too long. I don’t use powder makeup, because it if gets in my eyes or up my nose, there goes all of the day’s grooming into a red, puffy mess. Towels at hotels have given me painful rashes. I’m allergic to half of the outdoors, some of the indoors, and my own dog. If I could live in a bubble, I would.