Pantene Beautiful Lengths

My hair is getting long, which is what happens when I get busy. The past year has been crazy and I kind of forgot about my hair and let it do its own thing. As my fellow curly-headed girls might understand, curly hair is probably most low maintenance when it is medium-long. Also, long is probably the way that I like it best: versatile and feminine, it suits my personality.

However, I am not one of those people that freaks out about getting their haircut, either. I don't mind mixing it up sometimes.

I recently heard about how Pantene has joined with the American Cancer Association and is taking hair donations to provide free wigs for women suffering from hair loss due to chemotherapy.
I know that there are a lot of organizations like this (Locks of Love, Children with Hair Loss, ect), but here is what I like about the Pantene Beautiful Lengths:

1. There are several organizations which provide wigs for children, but this one provides wigs for adult women. I have known several women who have lost their hair due to chemotherapy and were unable to afford a wig made out real hair. My mom anticipated losing hers when she started chemo (she was the only patient her doctor ever saw not to lose all of her hair on that particular type of chemo) and I know that it was an uncomfortable prospect for her to face.  Even though I think that it is wonderful that there are several large organizations which focus on providing wigs for children, I like that Pantene is focused on women specifically. I think that hair loss from chemo is especially sensitve for women who want to feel strong and beautiful while they are fighting cancer.

2. Beautiful Lengths accepts donations of 8", unlike many other hair donation companies which require 10" or 12". This makes it a little more feasible for some.

3. Beautiful Lengths has a good reputation for using donations and  is clear about the kind of condition hair needs to be in to be an acceptable donation. They don't want for someone make a donation that can't be used. Some similar organizations are not so squeaky clean when it comes to what happens with their product.

4. Cancer sucks. This is something easy that women can do to give back to other women who are going through something horrible. If you are reading this, I very sincerely hope that you never have to go through the Hell that is cancer. I hope you never have to have it affect you at all through anyone you care about. But the truth is, I've realized, that you never know who it will affect. I think that Pantene Beautiful Lengths is a unique way for women to help other women.


So you're probably wondering, "She's hyping it up so much, is she going to do this?"

Absolutely! Unfortunately, my hair is not in awesome condition at the moment due to its year-long neglect. I dyed my hair about a month ago which is taboo according the the guidelines. I will have to talk to my hairstylist about what do to about that.  I also need to work on getting more regular trims, and am planning to grow my bangs out a bit more before making the cut.  That's something also: if you want to do this, make sure your hair is in the right condition because otherwise your generous intentions could be for nothing. While it may take me a few months to get my hair in right condition to donate it, I am excited about doing this!

My point in writing this post is to make other women aware of what is going on with Pantene Beautiful Lengths and explain why I think it is special and unique. I don't want to pressure anyone, merely to encourage other long-haired girls out there to consider making a change and making someone's battle with cancer a little easier.

Here is a link to the site which includes the requirements and other info:
http://www.pantene.com/en-us/pantenebeautifullengths/details/beautiful-lengths-make-the-cut.aspx

Agape

 I don't know how most of the world works. From the outside, I suppose my life is rather small.

I have a very small family. I teach at a small school. I have a small group of close friends, many of whom don't live close.

But I have always thought that my small life was much bigger on the inside because of love.
I may not know a vast array of people, but those I know, I know to the bone.
 I may be a little quiet and introverted, but when I love you, I promise to love you always.

I have loved so hard and so deep and so through-and-through that once I was convinced  that love could and would save a life.

It did not work. I tried, so hard, to hang on. But when things got truly horrible, there at the end,  love told me it wouldn't work that way. Love is not selfish, and it was selfish to keep trying to hang on.
 So I said, "You can go, it's okay, it's okay. I love you."  They are the hardest words I have ever said.

And even though I know that was the right thing to do, I have had some trouble with love since that day.

I have a lot of thoughts on this (she said after she typed two paragraphs and deleted them). Ultimately, I hope to come back to where Jack (C.S. Lewis) was coming from  when he discussed this topic in The Four Loves.
Funny, I've written more than one paper on The Four Loves. My mind understood it before, but I don't think my heart truly did.

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” 

 

From the Grieving Heart to the Concerned Friend

Dear friend,

As the words "How are you doing?"  or  "Are you okay?" spill out of your mouth, I know that you are only asking because you care.  You are trying to help by showing me that yes, you remembered, you understand, you know it's been hard.

Sometimes maybe you ask because you feel like you have to before we can discuss anything else. You want to get it over with.

A lot of times you just ask because you think it's probably the only thing you can do.

Actually, there is nothing you can do.

And even as you ask me the question, out of good intentions no less, I am frustrated.
I have learned that this question is one that I hate. It may help you to feel like you have helped, but to me it is a command performance.

Once you ask it, you are through. You've done well, fufilled your obligations, the ball is in my court.

 For me, it is a difficult decision which I have to make quickly. Do I tell the truth (to precious few, only in the appropriate situations) or do I have to lie...again?

Mostly it is the latter.

"I'm fine."
"I'm doing okay."
"Alright."

Some of you would be fine with the truth, I know. But if I want a normal conversation with you, relationship with you, a normal interaction, then I have to lie. I don't want to go there every time I talk to somebody. You would get tired of it pretty fast if I did. I guarantee it.

To you, it was a very sad thing that happened a few weeks ago.
To me, it is constant. It is every minute. It is every memory. It is a whole reality which has been broken and I am scrambling for debris.

"I'm fine."

The tight, little smile which I hate accompanies those two words, and I know I am the world's worst actor.

If you're especially thoughtful, you might say, "Well, if there is anything you need, be sure to ask."

To fix this? I doubt it. Can you cure cancer? Time travel? Can you fix my heart? My family's hearts? Can you? No, you can't. So,

"No, I'll be okay. I can't think of anything."

I can tell that you think I'm better. But I'm just better at hiding it.

When I cry, I go somewhere private. I make sure my eyes aren't swollen before I come out. When I scream, I do so with no noise, a howling fish out of water. I wrap my arms around myself and breath very quickly. In. Out. In. Out.

I can talk about things, other things. I can even joke around a little.

I do these things for you, so you won't see that life is so fragile and that I am so broken and we are so helpless. I don't want you to feel badly because you cannot make me okay.

I do these things for me, too. I don't want to lose you, or overstay my welcome as "sad friend". I want you to like me. I don't want you to get frustrated and give up on me. I need you, even if there's nothing you can do to fix me.

I get so exhausted from pretending. My introvertism has been so magnified by this that every successful social interaction has become a marathon. I crawl back wearily into my shell, and maybe that is where I belong.

No, I'm not fine. My heart is full of sorrow and you cannot fix it.

But maybe you can do some things to help me survive.
Don't try to fix me. Don't expect me to be okay. Don't give up on me. Give me space, but don't  forget about me. Understand if I am not up for it, and please don't be offended. Keep trying. Know that I am broken, and love me anyway.
We're all just broken people after all.

Your friend,

The Grieving Heart

Terminus

[ˈtɜːmɪnəs]n pl -ni [-naɪ], -nuses

1. the last or final part or point

2. (Transport / Railways) either end of a railway, bus route, etc., or a station or town at such a point

3. a goal aimed for

4. a boundary or boundary marker

(Raw/unedited)

Life is gravity

As we fall. We are stretching 

Our arms towards anything

Worth grasping as we go.

We breath the fear, the blur

The rush of excitement, of experience.

We can never forget

That there is something coming-

an end to all this.

It's there even now: dragging us down

Hair and teeth, noses, ears, our flesh folds

Over itself to brace for impact.

It's slowing the inside, as the outside 

Speeds up. 

Traveling to something we've not before met.

Not yet.

In the words of the little people

I always loved fairy-lore, folktales, Celtic legends, you name it. And now that I've become a teacher, I find myself being submerged into the language and ways of the little people, by which I mean children of course, whose culture is actually no less magical than that of the other "little people" variety.

Everyday I come home with some story that will live on in my mind. My shoulders may be tight from carrying heavy books around, my head may ache a little, but I've got this new, different,  bemused smile that hangs out in the corner of my mouth. Their words and actions are constantly offering me a reminder of the way I used to think when I was younger, and the new perspective is quite inspiring. I've actually been dreaming more since school started.

There are a couple things that I should probably make clear. The kids I work with have all been diagnosed as "LD" (or having some kind of learning disability, primarily dyslexia and/or severe ADHD). However, while they may have a tougher time in some academic areas than the average kid, most of these children are also extraordinarily gifted in other areas (often very high in creative intelligence).
Secondly, my homeroom classroom is all boys who are aged 7-10. Our class is pirate themed and I was so happy that they really got into it. (Example: They cry "aye aye Cap'in!" when I tell them to do something).

These guys are so good for the imagination. The other day, instead of trying to talk to them during lunch or keep them occupied, I just let the boys talk while I listened. Their conversation branched off into about three, simultaneous but interchangeable topics as they all chattered with and around one another.As I dropped some eaves, I managed to make a little transcription of this talk, which I'd like to share with you. I'm giving these guys fake names just to avoid any trouble . Heck, I'll make them fairy names (I just hope THEY never see this-I'd be in BIG trouble for the fairy stuff).

Enjoy: :-)

Acorn: (happily munching his potato chips and talking with his mouth full  to the folk around him) "You just don't understand guys. The alternate reality is something that only I can see, touch, and feel. I mean, there are guards beside me right now! Can you see them? NO, you can't."

He then licked his fingers messily in a satisfied way that seemed to indicate that his point had been well made.

Dew-drop: "Well.....okay. Hey, our concert last night was rad, I'm just telling you. At our next one, we're flying to Atlanta. Last time we were in London."

Acorn: "Man, do you think I can come to one of your concerts sometime?"

Dew-drop seemed caught off guard. Meanwhile, Acorn was grinning evilly.

Dew-drop suddenly smiled and one could almost see the light bulb going off over his head : "I dunno, I guess so. You'll have to figure out how to buy a ticket from someone. That's what everyone else does."

Acorn looked lost for words. The topic was dropped.

Acorn: "Fire-bending is really difficult you know." He gave a demonstration of his technique with his hands.

Suddenly, Clover joined in: "That's not how you fire-bend, Acorn. That just looks silly. Here's how you do it!"

He jumped up and demonstrated using all his limbs (sound effects too).

I had to interrupt the fairy meeting briefly to get Clover back in his seat and eating his Crustable.

Then, Bumble, who was in the habit of day-dreaming when others were talking, seemed to snap out of it. He looked at Dew-drop.

"Do your songs have any bad words in them, Dew- Drop?"

Dew-drop's expression changed to one of intense superiority, and his voice seemed deeper when he spoke.

"Oh yeah, like two or three in every song. In London, they had to flash red lights at us to make us stop."

Bumble looked thoroughly  impressed.

At this point, I had to call the fairy council to an end because of topic at hand as well as the fact that it was  time for the little people to pack up and get ready for keyboarding. 

Saturday Smattering

 Saturdays are sunshine, cool sheets, hugging pillows, hugs and hiking, Mexican food and coffee, independence, exploring, movie-going days, going out nights, do-nothing afternoons, showers that last entirely too long.

When you have work to do over the weekend, it's a lot more relaxing to do it on a Saturday than a Sunday. Sunday has an air of impending (doom would be too strong a word, wouldn't it?)....well...more like an impending, heavy, grey cloud.
 So if you do work on Saturday you can just relax and bask in the sunniness of everything (though, as a procrastinator I've also found that finishing stuff on Saturday is a bit less realistic as well, but you'll feel extra extra good about starting).

I've enjoyed my independence on many a Saturday since starting college, and so it will always kind of remind me of afternoons spent in coffee shops in Chattanooga or Oxford, writing papers, hiking and listening to music, or sitting in the window daydreaming while looking at the awesome view from Lookout Mountain.

*I miss Oxford and Chattanooga a whole lot, speaking of these things, and it occurs to me how supremely blessed I've been to live in such incredibly diverse, spark-igniting, beautiful (though in ways which could not be more different) places. I'd happily live in either place again, for a longer period of time. *

Now, Saturdays as a married person are also excellent...(dotdotdot)

By the way, excellent is an excellent word which I have apparently been rediscovering on this particular Saturday. This morning I looked at Dane and his sleepy-head hair and I announced to him: "Dane Michael Gustafson, you are excellent!". He seemed quite pleased with himself.
 Both of us have grown up jobs now which have Saturday and Sunday off, so that makes weekends a lot more laid back. 
Though I do have planning and stuff for students, it's not quite the same as being a full-time student at a challenging college. There will be more work once my teaching job starts, but for now, it's quite vacation-ey. Today we stayed in bed till 9ish, which felt kind of like a miracle. We made Pioneer Porridge with brown sugar and butter. Pioneer Porridge is AMAZING. Here's a link to the mill (not far from us) :http://www.noramill.com/store/history.php
Throw some brown sugar, butter and cinnamon on that stuff and you are in business. See, these are the kind of slow-cooked, nutritious breakfasts that needs to be enjoyed in the rocking-chair-on-the-porch type fashion of a Saturday or Sunday morning. You can't just hurriedly gulp that kind of goodness down.

We proceeded to watch a Broadway production of "Into the Woods" on Netflix. Great music, but now stuck in my head..............................................

Then Dane fixed my computer (YAY!)while I read the end of a book before we ventured out to one of the best kept secrets in town, a book exchange store that is so overflowing with books that it looks like some kind of Hogwarts librarian must manage it. I was thrilled to find a copy of the uncollected poems of R.M. Rilke, which I purchased for a mere 6.95.

Now Dane is at some friends' house, hooking up their TV, and I'm being far less helpful to society, blogging and eating frozen butterscotch pudding.Today is one of the hottest days in recent GA history, after all.

So today's Saturday...not even over, but great so far.

In a totally separate vein, we came up with a new game the other night. Easy to play, so if you're stuck inside on this freakishly hot Saturday and want to entertain yourself, you should try this out.
 Select a movie trailer and a piece of music that would be hilarious together. Then, turn down the video volume and just watch it to the song. You can do this by yourself, or in teams as a kind of a competition, or pair up and come up with a surprise combination with a partner. Do points however you want, mostly it's just laughter inducing. :-)
Here were some of my favorites:

1. The Bourne Identity Trailer with Cuban Pete (as sung by Jim Carrey)
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cD-uQreIwEk-movie
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJej6kCgxVM

2. Sweeney Todd Trailer with Mahna Mahna (by the Muppets)
  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L_hgrfZVlJA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8N_tupPBtWQ

oh, and I just found this one!

3. Nanny McPhee soundtrack with the song "World Collapsing" by Danny Cocke
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vEYozuMFjyc
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0fB5ZdyiKa8

Oh no....now I have a feeling I'm going to be on Youtube for a little while...

The Constant Gardener?

I am so horribly bad at keeping plants alive. Seriously. Dane and I watched "Meet Joe Black" the other day, and I was thinking that I am like a "Jane Black" for plants (but I'm married to the Green Giant).

However, I am so incredibly proud to announce that the pot of dirt which has been sitting on the front patio for like....2 months now, has finally begun to spout little green things!

 One of my students gave me the pot of dirt and packet of lavender seeds at the end of the school year, and I never actually expected anything to happen to it, knowing my history with plants.

 (Case in point: the nice elderly woman who lives in the townhouse next to us, Wilma, gave us a beautiful flowering plant when we returned from our honeymoon about two weeks ago. Now, despite my tender care and watering, it has become a Tim Burton version of itself. I feel kind of embarrassed to keep it out there where she can see it, but I tell myself that the fact that:
 A. We own a watering can and keep it out front in plain sight, so obviously we are concerned plant citizens.
B. I often take care to set it next to the formerly flowering plant as if to say, "See? I take this plant's need for sustenance seriously!"
 C. I conspicuously look around before picking up that watering can and take my time watering it, with the look of someone who often waters plants. I happen to know that Wilma watches us from the window so I feel okay-just barely-about keeping the dead-ish plant out there...as long as I continue to do A.B.C)


Anyway, it's strangely thrilling to see the little green things come out of the pot of dirt. Even through I didn't trust myself to make anything grow, I just kept watering it. (I think Dane's been watering too, which may actually be why it's growing, but that's not really the point, the point's that I was making an honest attempt). Then, one day, little green things were coming out of it! And they weren't little green worms! I have Googled baby lavender and it actually sort of looks right, too!
 ( Side note: don't you love how "Googled" has become a verb?)

 On that pot of dirt is written, in a kid's messy paint-scrawl" "Teachers Grow Kids" and there are also the handprints, in bright colors, of the kid (Let's call him....Thistle)

Now Thistle is neither a smiling, eager- to-learn sort, nor is he from the stock of scary-to-teach-but- loveable Tom Sawyer types. He's kind of a little loner: he's small for his age and he tries to be a bully. He isolates himself from others on purpose (not quite good enough at it yet to seem really, truly tough). The school where he is has been good for him, but he's got a long way ahead to a happy, truly fulfilling group of friends. I want that for him.

I wasn't too surprised to get a gift from Thistle, because his mom is very consistently thoughtful about gift-giving to teachers. However, I realized, when I got the pot, that Thistle's mom didn't write the words, he did. And those definitely weren't her handprints. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure the thing was her idea (or she got it off Pinterest), but I realized that he had to have wanted some part in that gift to willingly contribute his hands and writing, and that made it mean something to me.

To be honest, had it just been something that Thistle's mom obviously did on her own, I very much doubt I would have cared enough to read about the kind of light that lavender needs, or make sure it had enough water. But I kept checking on it, tending to it, despite my own little faith.

And it grew. 

I'm not going to pretend that growing lavender from seeds is hard or anything, but it's hard for me, mostly because I start out pre-discouraged when I see a potted plant. As it turns out, consistency and faith were the keys I needed.

It made me think: "Teachers Grow Kids."  I'm new to the whole education thing, but I had to think that there are some similarities between the need for faith and consistency in growing baby lavender and the need for encouragement and structure in "growing kids" in the classroom setting.

In fact, this can be applied all around the board with other things that have a tendency to be challenging or daunting. For me, here's the short-list: sticking to writing deadlines, computers, low-carb diets, being organized, having self-control when it comes to gummy vitamins, attempting to be outgoing....and finishing, well, almost anything.
 

Take a minute to think: what endeavors do you avoid because you lack the faith, or perhaps the will to at least make an honest attempt? What would it take to motivate you?  Are you willing to take a little time out of your day to be consistent in something, and what would that look like, practically?

 (This isn't rhetorical: I'd really love to hear and to discuss!)