Hey friends….

I woke up today really grumpy. Why? I didn’t get a lot of sleep for the second night in a row. My body is attempting betrayal, and I’m not taking kindly to it. Thank goodness for a fiancé who doesn’t mind being woken at 3am for a hug.

Anyway, sleep deprivation aside, it’s been a while since I posted here. It’s not for lack of topics. I have a lot of thoughts every day. Just ask the fiancé – every day when he gets home from work I have a new tirade. Really the problem is I have too many thoughts, too many ideas for posts, and too many feelings to adequately express myself in a coherent manner. If I post something controversial I want to at least discuss it in a coherent, conscientious, and considerate way. I feel very strongly that people should engage in healthy debate. How else could anyone understand another’s point of view? And healthy debate is impossible without respect for opinions other than your own. I have been afraid that I can’t express myself properly so, instead of writing something inflammatory that I don’t mean…

Let’s talk about this instead.

Yup. I cut my hair. It’s all gone. It’s pretty great actually. I am still getting used to it, but gosh I can’t sing this cut’s praises enough! I feel free. Absolutely free!

Why did I cut my hair? Well, I’ve been eyeing a number of beautiful pixies on several celebrities. I was jealous. I was green with envy. I felt trapped by my hair, bogged down and suffocated by it. I couldn’t shower in under 10 minutes simply for dealing with the amount of hair I was shedding. I couldn’t sleep because I had to find a way to pile my hair on my head to keep it out of my face. I’ve had longer hair than before this chop but for some reason this summer it was too much. So away it went.

I regret nothing.

I was worried that I wouldn’t feel pretty, that I would look chubby in the face (why was that what I was worried about?!?!?!), that it would be difficult to manage. But, as it turns out, not only do I feel pretty and not chubby in the face at all…
 I feel pretty effing confident and badass. And this is the easiest hair to style. Ever. No blow dryer, no curling wand, no pins and clips and hair spray. Just leave in conditioner with a little hold to it. Comb, run my hands through my hair, and bam. Hair is styled, Beth looks like a person, off we go with our wonderfully present cheek bones we never knew we had.

I even look like, dare I say it…. a grown up. New hairdo, new Beth, just in time to start school.

Look out world, it’s go time.




Patriotism is complicated.

Some people seem to think that being a patriot means you follow blindly. You support your country without question, you show no discontent or criticism, and you soldier on. A united front of sheep.

I disagree with this view. How can you truly love something, be it a person or country, if you can’t see it’s faults? How can you claim to be proud of your country if you refuse to constantly improve it? The most important part of patriotism is seeing when something is wrong. Seeing when something needs to be fixed. One must be willing to admit failure or fault in order to truly love something. Blind following helps no one.

I’m re-watching “The Newsroom”, an HBO masterpiece, and it has one of my favorite opening scenes ever (see it here). It makes me think about all the things I wish were different about America, and all the ways in which our government is set up to allow us to fix it when it needs a tune up. You wouldn’t refuse to take your car to the shop if it stopped working properly because you love it… You would bring it for a tune up, make sure it’s all working, and replace the radiator. Countries should work the same way.

Patriotism is hard.

Patriotism is complicated.