I’m over 40 and I have long hair

31 Aug


I’m over 40, am chubby, am not a celebrity, and have long hair.

I’m such a rebel. Or sadly trying to relive my youth. Or, you know, just wearing my hair the way I want to.

Yeah, that’s right. I’m just wearing my hair the way I want to. The way I like it. The way that makes me feel like *me*.

I’ve never had trendy hair. In high school, while everyone else was perming, teasing, ratting, and curling their hair before choking on Aqua Net to keep their six inch high bangs up, I had straight hair. Long straight hair. Okay, in eight grade, I got a pixie cut, but then grew it out because I wasn’t wild about it. Then, I tried perming but my hair was like “Nope.” and would reject perms. I decided not to fight my hair. Occasionally, I’d do something dumb like cut my own bangs too short, and then would have to get creative with the tiny barrel curling iron. Otherwise, most days, I wore my hair down.

Then grunge years came around and oh look, my hair was fashionable.

Then I got married and had kids and lived in pony tails for a while.

Then…then straight hair came into fashion, which is about the time my hair decided to start curling. Go figure, I can make my hair do 1988 really damn well now.

But yeah, as a teen, I decided the only way I’d have peace with my hair was to let it do its thing and not fight it too much. My hair was never going to be silky smooth, it would always be a bit messy and fly away. I’ve never been that high maintenance with my hair, so I stress at salons that I am a wash & go type. Since my hair started to curl (which has always been my dream hair) I have to stress that I don’t own a flat iron or a round brush and seriously, I just want to wear it curly, no, please, don’t blow it out, I just want to wear it curly.

So today, I have a hair appointment at a new-to-me salon. Because part of having curly hair is finding a stylist who is good with curly hair. And part of it is that I know I’m going in there appearing a bit soccer mommish, and trying to explain that I don’t want a soccer mommish hair-do. Partially because that style is not wash and go for me. I also have been growing out my hair – after going shorter (which for me was skimming my shoulders) I realized that while the hair looked good, it didn’t feel like me. So I’ve been letting it grow.

I like to go in with a couple photo ideas, so there’s a visual for the stylist. I hopped over to Pinterest and starting searching. And searching. I tried “long wavy hair” and got dozens of photos of young women. I tried “hair for women over 40” and got dozens of photos straight, layered bobs – some short, some brushing the shoulders – plus a couple photos of Jennifer Aniston. I tried looking my hair up by curl type – and got pictures of Lorde (who’s gorgeous but has way more oodles of hair than I do. And a stylist. And youth on her side.)

I searched for an hour for photos of hair examples for what would work for me…and found almost nothing. I started to think “Maybe I should start a blog for fashion over 40” and then remembered, I’m so not fashionable, or trendy. I just do what I like.

So now, I’m just praying that the stylist is a genius with hair like mine and I leave happy. With my long hair.

But in my searching for hair ideas, I found this, and it’s now my new mantra!

found on Pinterest, photo credit hopefully to Whisper

found on Pinterest, photo credit hopefully to Whisper


Post script – if you’re a short haired woman and love your hair, that’s awesome. I have nothing against pixies, stacked bobs, blow-outs, or the like. They’re just not me. They may be you, and that is what matters. Rock the hair you like, everything else be damned. 

the stuff of nightmares

29 Aug

I’m not talking about the presidential election this year. No, I’m talking about the things that, if they don’t keep us awake at night, our subconscious haunts us with in our dreams.

I’ve always been a vivid dreamer, even from childhood. I can remember being five years old and “remembering” that I – along with my dog and cat – could float down the basement stairs. But I couldn’t figure out if it was a real memory or a dream. It felt real. I wanted it to be real. I’d sit at the top of the basement stairs wondering if I could fly. Luckily, I was smart enough not to try it, and nice enough not to test out my flying theories on either pet.

But it felt real.

I’m used to having very strange dreams. It’s part of who I am. But last night, I had a dream that was too close to a real fear.


The dream went like this…

I went back for a visit to our old town in Michigan. I got there in time to witness their latest special education procedure – which was to line up all the special ed students from each grade or class in a glass-fronted room and decide which ones were too difficult. Each child wore a locket of sorts, and when their group was called, parents were able to open the locket to see if their child passed testing.

If they passed testing, great. They went on for another year.

If they did not pass testing, they were culled. Deemed “too difficult” and euthanized.

My friend’s child was part of the group. She told me this was his second time being chosen for testing. I watched one little boy break free and take off running, an aide chasing him down, catching him, and carrying him back to his group, where the other kids were strapped into seats. Parents mulled about the big center area, waiting for their child’s group to be called, not knowing if their child would be considered too much of a burden on society and therefore must be culled. The parents had no say in the fate of their child. It was left up to the school district. Because budgets and all.

My friend’s child passed the test, and allowed to live another year.

We went and bought donuts to celebrate.

End dream.

I don’t need a dream interpreter to help me figure out the meanings behind my dream. It’s simple. It’s a fear we parental people have for our vulnerable offspring. That they’re deemed unworthy, a burden, useless, disposable. Many times, we as parents feel like we have no say in what happens to our child, especially in a school setting. We feel helpless all the time. Sometimes, we’re just happy to survive another day, month, year.

But I’d like to tell my subconscious that it’s all okay, I’m already aware of that. I don’t need to dream about such things, please and thank you.


I made a Night Vale hat, and I’m not sure if it’s sanctioned by the Sheriff’s Secret Police

26 Aug

The good news is, it’s been three days and I’ve yet to see any hooded figures. Well, outside of the normal hooded figures that wander through the house eating food (aka, the resident teenagers.)

Miriam and I <heart> the podcast “Welcome to Night Vale” almost as much as Cecil <hearts> Carlos…perfect Carlos…with his perfect hair…

Not everyone has perfect hair like Carlos, so I made Miriam a Night Vale hat as a last-minute birthday present. Because I knit, and I’m crafty, and I procrastinate.

My friend, NotaJen, helped me with figuring out how to make a Night Vale themed hat quickly and easily. She shared the secrets of the duplicate stitch with me, and after three days of furious knitting, I had a finish product for the birthday girl.


How did I do this?


Cascade Superwash Aran yarn in Splatter Lilacs, Black, and Amethyst for the stripes, and then Amethyst, Splatter Lilac, and White for the Night Vale design.

size 6US and 7 US circular needles (the pattern called for 6 and 8 but I didn’t have a handy size 8, so winged it.)

I followed this pattern for the hat – Stashbusting Helix Hat (will totally make more of these because it’s a super easy pattern!)

I used the chart from this pattern to do the cloud eye/moon Night Vale design – Night Vale Winter Hat

Both were originally found on Ravelry.

I do think somewhere along the way, I goofed on the Helix pattern and hence why there’s a black/amethyst/black band…but I then also inadvertently put the design across it. So it sort of works. And hey, nothing says “Made with LOVE” like an oops, right?

The main thing is, the girl is happy with it.

Now I have to make Maura a hat with a My Little Pony cutie mark. Because she wants a hat now too.


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