A couple of months ago, I mentioned that I was considering changing my hairstyle. I’m proud to announce, after approximately 12 weeks, that I’m making some not-so-significant-but-still-some-slight progress. I always knew growing out a pixie was going to be challenging. But so far, I’m pretty pleased with the results.
I love how it started doing this “woohoo” flippy thing in the front:
And I love being able to use all the cute hair accessories I’ve purchased to keep my hair out of my face:
|This one was taken about 3 weeks ago. See how much it’s grown since then??|
However, after having a pixie cut for almost 5 years now, there are certain things I’m having to get used to again when it comes to having longer locks. Like hair touching my ears:
And what I’m referring to as my Elvis side burns:
Granted, those few little things will be tamed when I visit my friend and stylist, LeAnn, tomorrow. But at some point, the snipping here and there to tame the beast won’t be able to contain those puppies, and I will have to don some gold sparkly glasses just to get my shopping done incognito.
The one thing I’m really struggling with, though, is a habit I formed as a young child. When I am focused on something (writing, reading, Doctor Who on BBC America) I tend to play with my hair. It’s totally involuntary, and I really don’t even know I’m doing it half the time. But there I’ll be, minding my own business, and somehow my hands wind up in my hair.
Truly, it’s not such a terrible habit. The problem is when I do it during the day. Because inevitably, after about an hour, I go from looking like a normal, mostly-coiffed Abby, to something more along the lines of Medusa in glasses.
Not only do I look weird, but I’ve actually suffered a hair-play injury, involving a pinched nerve in my neck, due to my overzealous twirling of late. And so my husband has been given the assignment to help me remember to STOP playing with my hair. Now he walks around the house randomly shouting “HAIR!” and “Arms down, missy!”
I swear I’m not making this up. Everything I publish here is true. Mostly.
Anywhoo, I’m excited to see what the next 12 weeks will bring. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I lose the Elvis look by Christmas. It’ll happen. I just know it.
IN OTHER NEWS…
Those of you who are observant will have noticed that my BlogHer ads are live as of today! (Those of you who aren’t observant will now scroll up to see what they missed. It’s ok, you can go peek. We’ll wait for you….Back now? Awesome. Let’s continue.) There were a few moments of confusion this morning as I tried to find my newly generated ad code on the BlogHer website, but with the help and support of my husband (who reminded me to breathe,) Alex from Late Enough (who sent me an email with more Abby-friendly instructions), and MoMo from Team BlogHer (who cheered me along like a pro), I finally got the ads installed. I think they look fantastic! And I’m super-excited to see what my association with BlogHer will bring in the future.
That being said, I’m still trolling for readers. The little contest I started last week brought a few new faces to my Abby Gabs Facebook Fan Page, but I still haven’t broken 70 friends. So, spread the word, share the love, and pretend like all you REALLY want for Christmas is an Abby Gabs specialized portrait.
Lastly, a little shout out about a big thing that happened to me last week. I wished the ever-sexified Donnie Wahlberg a happy birthday via Twitter, and he totally hugged me.
The following conversation with my husband took place minutes later via text message:
A: I just got a Twitter hug from you-know-who.
B: Will Smith? The Doctor? DJ Jazzy Jeff? Voldemort? Justin Timberlake? That guy from the Backstreet Boys?
B: Mark Wahlberg?
A: Noooo, but you’re closer.
B: The Funky Bunch?
And that, ladies and gentleman, is why I married him.