My Hair-Did

I have a message, for everyone who has ever felt picked on because of their hairs.

Your hairs do not define you! You are more than just your hairs! They are a part of you, but they don't tell the whole story! As important as they are, they aren't everything. Just ask anyone who's ever gotten chopped on ANTM - hairs are important, but you can werk without your normal style.  #blackhairsmatter....and so do #blondehairs and #brownhairs and #redhairs. Furthermore, I want to encourage everyone to style their truth! Baby let your hair down! Drop it down low or pick it up real slow! It's your hairs, so do whatever you want with it! I support you. 

Once upon a time, I.

I.

Ihadsomehairhaters. 

Okay this is still a little hard to talk about, but I think that there are people out there who will benefit from hearing my story, so I'm going to tell it! 

I tried a new hairstyle, one that I had seen on Pinterest. It's called the Bubble Ponytail. I carefully teased, tugged, and tied until I had reached the look I was going for. However, I wasn't 100% confident in this trail I was blazing, so I went about gathering some opinions. Stephen said it looked cool, and his aunt said it was fun, but just to be sure, I txtd some important people in my life. And in my txt I included a picture, which is lucky for my visual learners in the audience:

Hmmmm. Not exactly the enthusiastic response I was hoping for....but maybe balloons are a good thing? I sent out a few more txts and figured I would just let the majority rule on this very important issue.

Nicole responded first:

What the! Okay, this was much more hurtful than I had anticipated!

I smiled as I sent this last txt. Surely my sister would feel my passion for fashion through the phone, and catch my vision, and jump on board.

......Nope, I guess I was wrong.

So that was definitely not the response I was hoping for, but in the midst of that, I got some kind words of encouragement from my friend who has a fashion blog, and I was pretty sure that a fashion blogger's opinion should count as 2 points at least, so now I had gotten 3 positive responses, 4 if you want to count the fashion blogger as 2, and 2 negatives.

Unfortunately, Jacob was the next person to respond:

Sorry for the obvious photoshopping, but I am not trying to give out my little brother's number to all the ladies who undoubtedly would have snatched it up and tried to txt him after seeing this charming exchange....

And then Julie responded after him:

I was feeling very smfimphim. <--Do you know what feels like? Like nobody understands you. Like you're all alone in a sea of people. Like there's nobody out there who shares, or even comprehends your dream! (Can I get an amen!!) 

But then I thought about Stephen's response - that "Yeah, it looks cool. I like it."

And his aunt's verdict, that it was fun and creative. 

And Caitlin's heart-eye emoji, and her comment that it was fun that I was experimenting and doing something cooler than just a plain ponytail. 

And the lady at the Dolla Store last year when I was running errands, who gasped and said "Youuuu, have the most beauuuutiful hair!" 

And the Portlandian girl who told her mom that she liked my hairs, when we were at Beacon Rock State Park.

And all these loving supporters buoyed me right back up, and helped me channel my inner Blake Lively a la Met Gala, and I went out into the world bright-eyed and bubble-ponytailed, and I loved every second of that journey. 

So my message to you is, try something new with your hairs! You are bea-u-ti-FUL! Even if there's someone out there who thinks your hair-did is a hair-dud, you can be sure there's someone right here, who wrote this blog, who thinks it's a hair-(please)-do(-over-and-over-again), and I'm cheering you on! And if you're standing in front of your mirror in doubt about your hairs, know this: if you were Bruno Mars' girlfriend, I'm sure he would write a song for your hairs, and he would mean every perfect lyric, and all the girls all around the world would swoon e'er time it came on the radio, and wish that they were you. 

You do you, hair experimenters. You're the movers and shakers, and Portlandians and fashion bloggers and Bruno Marses everywhere are rooting for you. 

Leave the Waxing to the Pros

I don't want to name names.....but someone learned a valuable lesson this last week. That lesson is that you should always leave waxing to the pros.

This one girl thought that she could wax her armpits on her own. It would be fine to just use a store-bought kit, she rationalized. I have sisters! she triumphantly reminded herself. One of them is perfectly capable of pulling the skin taut and yanking ruthlessly. Probably the 13-year-old one.

So she bought the kit and made like the karate kid. A few hours later, she brought her waxed-on armpit to her 13-year-old sister's attention.

A few days after that, I arrived. And found this:

A leper. Sarah tried to soothe the armpits with some ukulele serenades, but I don't think it did too much. 

The horrible burn? Rash? Abrasion? Infection? Only got worse from there.

Now the poor leper was forced to find creative ways to shield her injury from further harm, without being too immodest. This style is made of a tanktop and a scarf. The excess scarf has been shoved into the tanktop, making it into some functional - and fashionable! - sleeves. 

I, personally, loved this style.

On the day she flew back to Maryland, this anonymous person discovered some tea tree oil ointment thing that smelled terrible, but apparently helped the pain. She then proceeded to glob it all over the affected areas, and lift her arm so I could take a picture.

Still not naming names, but isn't she cute? Staph armpits and all. 

So yes. There is your friendly PSA. Do not attempt waxing on your own. If you need someone to meet your waxing needs, I know a girl. And she is not the one pictured above. My girl would never let this happen.

Just Missing Joseph

I saw my family this week! Everyone except Joseph.

And now, since I'm stuck in the Chicago airport with butt-long delays, I'm going to write a summary of my trip.

Sarah plays the ukulele now. And she loves noise I think more than anyone else I know! She was constantly singing, playing the piano, playing the ukelele, chatting with me - it was so fun. Also, she is ginormous. The baby of the family is now almost as tall as me! I think my parents had a specific number of tall genes, and at first the tall genes were like okay, no one can have too many of us. We've got to spread ourselves out. And then all of a sudden, it got to the 6th and 7th child and all the tall genes were like oh freak!! We won't have anywhere to go! Hurry! Everybody, unload! This is not a drill!! So now Jacob and Sarah tower over the rest of us midgets.

Jacob is also ginormous but this is nothing new. My favorite part of hanging out with Jacob was when we went to this fannnncy-pants restaurant with a ghost for lunch on my last day (today), and Jacob literally fell in love with his sandwich. He just sat there staring at it and commenting on how beautiful it looked for like 5 minutes, and then he delved into it, and he could not stop smiling! When Sarah asked if she could have a bite, I think she took a bite out of his heart as well. But Jacob is just the kind of nicest-guy-ever who would give his little sister a bite of his favorite sandwich, so he did.

Actually, my favorite part of hanging out with Jacob was seeing what a sweetheart he is. He's just so nice to talk to, and so compassionate, and so helpful!.....but that's a little more boring to blog about. I'm just saying. Whoever marries him is going to be so happy about that delightful turn of events in her life.

We pulled up to my family's new house where there were a bunch of new friends to meet. Apparently my whole family hates quiet, because as the kids all move out, we are being replaced with noisy animals. We've always had birds, but now they have chickens, a turkey, and a dog that looks kind of like a polar bear and barks like it is under attack.
My favorite chicken is this one named Mohawkey, who has crazy hairs, but is actually very nice to hold.

Even the turkey, Rocky Jr., lets you hold him and is pretty calm about it. He kind of reminded me of a peacock. He just stands there and puffs up his feathers and wants to be the boss. If he feels like he's not getting enough attention, or someone isn't doing something he specifically approved, he lets out this "GOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLE!" that does not even sound like an animal. It seriously sounds like a person who's really bad at imitating turkeys! But it actually is Rocky Jr.

Aldas (All-dosh) is the polar bear dog. When they got her I did not think I would like her. As you may recall, my idea of a perfect dog actually does not exist, since I would like one that doesn't poop, bark, shed, jump on you, whine, drool, lick, disobey, get dirty, bite, weigh more than 10 lbs, smell bad, hump other dogs, want to go on walks when I don't want to, or cost money. This dog does not exist, and I realize that.

But Aldas is like - five things I don't like! She is huge, hairy, sheds and drools constantly, has a ton of energy, and I'm pretty sure her poops could squash and kill smaller dogs. She lurped out of her house (which is the garage, because she's a white Clifford, you guys) and ran and jumped up on me right when I got out of the car. And then, I loved her.

Despite all her on-paper flaws, she is actually so sweet and so cute! And it's funny to me how she loves being scratched and she plunks down on top of your feet to trap you there so you have no choice but to rub her belly.

She loves to jump in the pond and chase the frogs,

and when she wants attention, she puts her paw very bossily on your leg,

and looks up at you, panting and smiling like she can't imagine a better friend in the whole world.

My grandpa is the cutest little putterer ever. He used to wear suspenders and a baseball cap all the time and now he doesn't any more. But he is still so cute. I just want to pinch his little cheeks! One day everyone left to do something, except Sarah and Grandpa and I. Sarah was taking a shower and I was planning out a menu for my parents and Nicole, who are going to do Whole 30 with me! Because, for some reason, I am doing it again.

Anyyyway, Grandpa came over and was like "Tell me about your husband." And then we talked for almost 2 hours! It was so fun! He told me about places he's been, and I told him about places I've been, and we talked about hypnosis because, you guys, my grandpa was a hypnotist and I'm not even kidding!, and we talked about Stephen, and my grandma, and it was just so nice.

I love my grandpa because eeeeven though this morning he walked out and said "How are your stocks? The stock market just closed. Yep. And China closed, too." - even though he said that, he is actually very witty and has a great memory. And this gives me hope that when I get old, I can have a strong mind and not be confused all the time.

Julie was in Ohio when I arrived, but she actually left on Sunday, so we only had a day and a half together. But it was a great day and a half! Sarah has the cutest colorful spandex shorts, which she let me borrow so we could go running in the mornings.

The first day, I wanted a picture of this monumental event of me voluntarily going running in the great outdoors. I asked Jacob to take it but that was a REAL struggle, so Julie came out on the deck and started taking pictures. Here are just a few of the things she said:

"Run!!! Keep running, my muses!"
"Goddesses! All two of you! Hair swish, that's it!"
"These are so Instagram worthy! How will you ever choose?!"
"I can't stop clicking. My finger CAN'T STOP CLICKING!!!"

Sarah did not understand that we were trying to take running pictures. She thought we were having a race. 

At some point Aldas, the resident spaz dog, ran up to us.

"That's it, Aldas! Over here! Look at me!"
"Now pet her! Yes! YES!"
"I love the spontaneity, Aldas! You're a dream!"

Julie is just so freakin funny.

Nicole is now home from her mission! She was, of course, the reason I flew out. I have missed her! I hadn't realized it, since we emailed every week, and sometimes even snail mailed. But just having her back, and laughing with her, and seeing her do the same ridiculous things she did before, made me realize how much I love her and did miss her.

She is one of a kind. I know everyone is unique and blablabla, but Nicole is like 10x more unique than other people, I feel like. Potential suitors may apply via me. (Since I am more enthusiastic about her nuptials than she is.)

Here's something Nicole is enthusiastic about: taking pictures in front of fireplaces that Abraham Lincoln gave speeches in front of at the Spread Eagle Tavern. 

My parents are still the same, you'll be happy to know. When Nicole had some post-mission awkwardness and I had a mini-freakout about it, my dad was the calm mediator psychologist who solved all the problems. And my mom remains the happy, sweet, help-everyone-with-whatever-problem-they-might-have, mom of the entire world's population.

Anyone who wants to photo-shop my dad's eyes open is welcome to. I'd appreciate it, and I'm sure he would, too. 

Kelly came on my last day there. It would've been nice if we could all have gotten our craps together, and been there at the same time. The airport schedule went like this:

Pick up Julie.
Pick up Nicole.
Pick up Heather.
Drop off Julie.
Pick up Kelly.
Drop off Heather.
Pick up Julie.
Drop off Kelly.
Drop off Heather.
Drop off Julie.

.....all on different days. Yeah, a little dysfunctional! But that was what worked with everyone's schedules, and at least we all got to see each other, even if not all together.

Anyway, it was fun to see my oldest friend for a day! We went and toured my dad's plant, and went to this fancy-pants restaurant that used to be an abolitionist's mansion home. Now it's a hotel / restaurant called the Spread Eagle Tavern. It was here that Jacob fell in love with his.....sandwich.

I have seriously not seen him behave this way, or look so enamored, since he met Mckenzie Gilmore in Florida when he was like four years old. 

On Tuesday night, Nicole gave her report of her mission. I was so glad I got to be there for it! The whole entire room filled up with the Spirit and I got a little glimpse of what an amazing missionary she was. We didn't take any pictures of us that night because for some reason, we all looked like the dump fairy came and sprinkled her magic not-cute dust on us. Or maybe that was just me. Either way, the only picture I do have from that night is the complete double rainbow that we witnessed.

I kept trying to take pictures and none of them turned out exactly well enough to do this rainbow justice. You can't even see the second rainbow, but I promise it was there, and I promise I wondered what it meant. 

It was so fun being home! I never thought I would call Ohio "home," but if that's where my family is, then it is home to me. The only downside was not having Stephen there....and that's why I had to go back to Utah. He's my home too :)

P.S. He cleaned the whole entire house, soooo, I'm the luckiest wife.