Tag Archives: hair

MY FREAKING HAIR

So now that my hair has had the chance to be its usual horrible self with this new haircut, I think it looks terrible. So I went to Great Clips tonight and got those front thingies chopped off.

Now it looks like this.

01-06-2020

Improvement?

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

I got all my ugly, pain-in-the-ass hair cut off today because, as I’ve mentioned before, I am so sick of dealing with it. Here’s what I look like now:

12-29-2019

What do you think? I’m still an ugly bastard, but now all that long, scruffy hair is gone at least.

(Ignore the frizz; Moscow is way more humid than Calgary and my hair can’t handle it.)

Another Pointless Claudia Blog

I’ve had the super strong urge lately to cut my hair short.

Like, short short.

I’ve been growing it out since before I came to Calgary (2014; partially to get rid of the bangs because they were a pain in the ass) and while I’ve trimmed to about shoulder length a few times since I’ve been up here, it’s never been quite as short as I used to wear it.

I used to get it cut almost like a pixie, but even shorter. I remember they always used that buzz clipper doodad in the back. That would be so much easier to deal with, especially since I spend about four hours a day with my hair shoved under a hat while I walk (some days it takes me an unreasonable amount of time to tame my hair for said walks, which is really dumb).

The problem is that I’m way more self-conscious about my face shape (it’s terrible) and ears (they stick out way too far) to even think about how horrible I’d look with short hair. I mean, I look horrible with long hair (or with anything else I do with my body), but I think short hair would accentuate the ugliness.

But who knows, maybe that insecurity will be outweighed by how obnoxious this long hair is by the end of the month and I’ll just chop it all off anyway.

I, uh…

I have a lot of hair.

01-26-2019

Curlin’

Every once and awhile, my hair will do this natural curl thing. And it’s awesome.

Except, like in this picture, it’s usually only one small piece of my hair and the rest remains frizzy/fluffy/dead to the world/obnoxious.

The end.

(Yes, my shirt is covered in cat hair. My life is covered in cat hair. Deal with it.)

Hair to the Throne

So I’m ditching my bangs.

I haven’t been without bangs since 8th grade (and even then it was for like a year), but I want to be like any other normal human being and not be so freaking uptight about my hair. I want to be able to go outside without experiencing anxiety about my bangs getting messed up (yes, this is something that happens to me EVERY TIME I LEAVE THE INDOORS). I want to not be constantly worried about whether or not they’re straight.

This is mainly because Calgary appears to be super windy all the time, but also because I feel the need for change.

But that’s hard for me. Change is hard. Change can go die.

You’re probably thinking, “holy hell, it’s just bangs, GET OVER IT.”
But it’s not. I feel…weird without them. I feel very vulnerable without them. I don’t care how damn crazy that sounds, it’s true.

But it’s time to ditch ‘em.

So don’t laugh at my new pic if I don’t have bangs in it; I know I look weird without them.

Okay, bye.

Frizz Daddy

For anyone curious as to how my hair looks when I blow-dry it:

photo(2)

When I try to comb it, it just frizzes back up like this.

Thus, I don’t blow-dry my hair.

Also, pardon the horrible lighting. My bathroom sucks.

I’m listening to Ke$ha at 4:30 AM. My neighbor has surprisingly not murdered me yet.

So I sawed about a foot off my hair this afternoon. First impulsive act of the year, eh? Long hair’s a pain on the buses.

Pics later when I find my camera.

Edit:

Cannot take a good picture to save my life.

No more red!

Yay! So tonight, with help from Rob, I dyed the red out of my hair. And Rob also has blackish  hair now, ‘cause there was a lot of dye left over. Haha.
Just thought you’d like to know.

O forf ,u jsot ypfsu!

So I dyed my hair today.

No, no, don’t flip out—it’s very subtle, due to the darkness of my hair. Instead of it being solid black it is now broken up by chunks of understated fuchsia.

That’s a whacked-out word, isn’t it—fuchsia.

Okay, I’m done.