Saturday, March 15, 2008

A small dose of truthiness

As I commented over at Bea's, I have invoked my cloak of anonymity in the current round of truthiness. I never post pictures of myself, so why would I break with that to give you a glimpse of my morning persona?

But then HBM changed the rules a little and suggested that a picture was not strictly necessary. And despite my sporadic posting here of late, I haven't sworn off words. So let me give you a verbal glimpse at my physical self.

My morning self is not greatly different from my later-in-the-day self. I don't wear any makeup, haven't put on anything more than moisturizer and lip balm for more than fifteen years (no lipstick lesbian here!). The difference between pre- and post-shower cannot be all that significant, though maybe Trillian would say otherwise.

In one way, I prefer my morning look to when I've finally pulled myself together: no glasses. I am vain enough to care about the difference in my looks with and without glasses. But the alternates are not very practical for me. Contacts, without fail, give me a headache, and I'm not comfortable with the idea of laser eye surgery for myself. I try to take comfort in the fact that my eyes have actually improved over my past few appointments; while I'll never be able to drive without glasses, I can already spend longer on the computer and with my books without them.

While my hair is much the better for a wash and combing, it's not all that wild when I wake up--a bit flyaway and prone to static, but that's pretty much its state by the end of the day too. I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with my hair. As a child, I despised being a brunette, because it's so boring. But I've come to appreciate that my particular brown fits with the rest of my coloring; I also still have a wide range of natural highlights from blond (hides the gray that has started to pop up) to red to dark brown. I have a tendency to go back and forth between long and short--neither one is ever all that I dreamed it would be. Right now it is long with some layers past my shoulders (because that's how much it's grown out since my last cut). I end up, most days, piling it up on my head in a messy bun. Regardless of length, I avoid bangs at all costs since they inevitably flip into wings at the sides (great for that feathered hairstyle I had at 12, not so much for my current low-maintenance requirements) and I get sick of having them on my face.

I'm starting to realize that I need to change my routine to accommodate the fact that I'm getting older. My face and scalp have decided to get a little more sensitive and are not sure what to make of our change in climate. I haven't quite given in yet, but know I should probably give it some thought.

Now I'm off to slip into some flannel pjs, let down my top-knotted hair, and call it a night.


Her Bad Mother said...

Truthiness often feels better when it's in words. (and, yeah, when your morning self is really no different from your mid-day-out-for-groceries self, the world really is getting truthiness anyways. :)

Bea said...

Here's my terrible confession - I wish the Pie had gotten my colouring: the dark brown hair and eyebrows. Something to do with the urge to self-replicate, I guess, and the fact that I got that colouring (along with the rest of my looks) from my mother and have always enjoyed our striking resemblance. Pie got stuck with my personality (to a tee), but her looks are all from her father.

Mad said...

Ya, my truth is the same whether you catch me at 8am, Noon, 8pm or midnight. I forget to comb my hair most days.

Mouse said...

Bea, I hadn't thought about it, but I guess both of your kids have coloring closer to their father's. Though little kids' hair often darkens, so maybe she'll still end up a rich brunette, even if not quite your striking contrast.

It's also true that I'm not at all disappointed that Scooter's coloring resembles mine (though with blue-gray instead of green in his hazel eyes).

Mad-I usually manage to comb my hair in the morning, but it doesn't take more than a few minutes before one would be hard-pressed to tell. Almost every hairdresser styles my hair by blowing it smooth--I only had one who noticed that it wants to put itself into messy spirals and then worked with that.

Lisa b said...

I've been having some very truthi days lately.
I love schlumping around in my PJs and sweats, maybe a little to much, so most days I force myself to get up and get dressed. Maybe I'll post a photo, it might be good for me.
I know what you mean about the change of routine. I never died my hair until two years ago when the grey just got too bad to live with.