Time is a fickle thing.

And so I have barely been on here. Between make up homework from being ill and working, I haven't had time to do anything I'd like to. My to-do list isn't large but it's full of significant things. Reading books that aren't assignments, running so I can get my be-hind into decent shape, and going on www.livemocha.com to continue learning German. The latter is, I think, my top priority as I want to visit my aunt in Germany by summer. After that comes running. I need to get my behind moving. Anymore, getting weighed is the worst part of going to the doctor. Number's always going up. Granted it's mostly due to inflammation but still. Ah well, we'll see what happens. Anywho, luckily I had time to dye my hair. Or rather, my mom had time to.

Bad picture quality but I just wanted one that

showed the spectrum, front to back.

Since freshman year of high school, I have been dying my hair. And every once in awhile I stop and go brown or blonde, or attempt to grow it back out. And I think I do that because I have this belief that guys will like me if I look like a normal person. And usually I laugh at this but sometimes I'm not sure. What sucks is how torn I am between conforming and doing what I love.

I am always happier with color in my hair. I feel like something is missing when I'm natural. But I also don't like the judge-a-book-by-its-cover attitude I get geared towards me. It's win/lose and sometimes I really don't know what outweighs what. Single, judged, "weird", colorful, and a bit more upbeat? Or taken, invisible, "normal", bland, and bored to tears? I don't know which is better...

Drew Barrymore in Mad Love. I adore her haircut.

Maybe I'll find a happy medium. Chin length hair and one color? That means no more patterns though... it's amazing how much of a dilemma this is to me. To dye or not to dye? Cut or not to cut? I have much bigger things to stress over and yet, this is often what I worry about most. Well... perhaps third most.

Point is, I have way too much of a problem with my appearance. I'm a nit-picker and it's something I need to stop. Despite the fact that I'm in love with my hair, I keep telling myself, "After this, it's being grown out." I care too much about what others think. So, essentially, I think my number one goal has become training myself to not care. It's hard though.

For some reason, and I have yet to figure out why a million compliments never seem to take away the sting of half a dozen insults. Maybe it's because people significant to me have dished them out, or maybe I just cannot take criticism, whether it's bull or not.

Agh, I'm being a whiner. I didn't mean for this to be a complaining post. It just sort of ended up that way. So my apologies. I guess I just needed to vent. I have way too much on my mind and if I don't let some out, my eyes may pop out of my head.

On a brighter note, I saw Where the Wild Things Are. It was beautiful. I cannot lie though; I did cry. And I have only ever cried during five movies: The Green Mile, Brother Bear, The Perfect Storm, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, and Where the Wild Things Are. My mom cried as well but, as she admitted in her blog, she cries during almost every movie. And even some trailers. ;]

I usually get more emotional with books. I'm reading The Lovely Bones for school right now and sobbed through the beginning. It's great though, I can't wait to finish. The last three Harry Potter books made me cry too. But that was because Rowling killed my five favorite characters. That's not really a spoiler right? I didn't say who. Another tear jerker was John Steinbeck's The Pearl, which I absolutely loathed. I read that sophomore year and threw it out of my room and down the hall at the end. Ridiculous book haha.

Okay, now I'm rambling. Enough for now. I'm going to try to sleep. I finally saw Gladiator today and I plan on attempting to keep the image of Russel Crowe in his gladiator get-up in my head before drifting off.