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I started using the "Web Developer Inspector" in my browser to figure out how people do specific things with their websites yesterday. I learned how to add the ability for the viewer of a page to toggle between hidden and exposed elements by looking at the source code of the first installment of Marina's Puzzle Corner.I enjoyed her puzzles a lot and suggest them if you enjoy puzzles and word play.

I'm enjoying making pixel art for this site. I'll probably keep updating them as I learn to render things more clearly. The background photo that I had before was a photo of our apartments' floor. I replaced it with the pixel version yesterday to give the site a more "polished" (like a clean floor...) and retro look. I mopped almost the entire apartment over the weekend with warm, soapy water. The seemingly neverending wood floor background of this website is how large I felt our floor was after I finished.

My partner made pancakes and eggs for breakfast yesterday while I did the dishes. We were chatting and listening to some light jazz on a low volume. I can't remember what we were talking about; we free associate and move from topic to topic frequently almost all day when we're both home so I often forget what we talked about. I feel at home when we relate like this and occupy the kitchen together.

My partner graciously cut my hair before their family video chat for Yule. It's weird to see all of it piled up on the floor before it gets tossed in the compost. They accidentally went shorter than normal, but I like it a lot. I feel like myself.

My hair has always been a thorny topic for me. In high school, I dated a few people, but there was a particular boy that I spent too much time with. I had long, thick hair in my freshman year. I hated it: he loved it. It was a suffocating entity all its own that required far too much attention and care, that other people seemed to have say over in a way that I didn't. My mother wouldn't let me cut it: the boy begged me to keep it and pouted and whined for months once I started maintained a progressively shorter style. I got it cut into a bob after absolutely ruining the bangs on my own. I didn't tell my mom what I was doing at the barber. The barber asked me many times if I was sure that I wanted to cut it all off--she told me that a lot of "girls" cry and regret it.

I didn't cry, I didn't regret it. My mom changed her mind about it once she saw the bob--she liked it. I tolerated it for awhile. It didn't feel short enough. I couldn't put it in a ponytail out of my face, off of my scalp, out of my mind. It touched me, tangled in my glasses, clung to me in the dry winter air. It felt like a physical manifestation of what people projected on me, that I absorbed and internalized.

After my sophomore year, during the summer, my school sent me and some of my classmates on a trip. The boy wasn't going. I decided I needed a buzzcut in order to make the trip easier: less hygiene factors make life easier, right? I didn't have to worry about bringing shampoo, I could just use soap! I didn't need to bring a brush or a comb! I told my mom that I would grow it back out when I came home (I never did, but I tried twice).

It was so short! It was spikey and soft at the same time! I could feel my head! I was both scared and elated. The boy expressed so much unabashed disappointment about my haircut everytime I saw him before I left with the school group.

I broke up with the boy pretty soon after I came home. My hair had grown into a mullet-y bowlcut in the meantime. I kept it somewhere between a "pixie" cut and a grown-out, mushroomy look for many years following, until I found one of many barbers since that was willing and able to give me a "man's" cut. She still did the spiel about me crying or being upset.

My partner doesn't tell me how to look and celebrates how I maintain my appearance no matter what choices I make. I thought about this all while they were cutting my hair and felt full. I feel at home with them.

Thanks for stopping by! Wear what you want, cut your hair or grow it out. Your body is for you! Seeya next time!