the end of the golden decade.
the time has come the walrus said.
let’s get some facts straight.
i am weird.
i’ve had blonde hair for the past 11 years.
i thought it was only appropriate to create a montage of some of my favourite blonde moments in life…i warned you, i was a weirdo.
i can’t even remember why i wanted to go blonde originally.
scratch that.
that is a lie. i remember exactly why i wanted to go blonde.
like most teenage girls, i suffered with insecurities. grade 8 was a hard year for me. i hated my looks and wanted to conform to the barbie image that flashes in most little girls’ minds when the word “pretty” is heard. i wanted to be blonde. i would dream of being blonde. so at the end of grade 8, a few months before i turned 14, i started dying my hair blonde.
i don’t want this post to be sad. yes, at the beginning i was trying to be this image that i had of perfect in my head, but eventually the blonde became me. and i was fine with that. i loved my blonde hair. we had our ups and downs.. aka beautiful cool toned blonde vs. scary yellow blonde (scary bright yellow blonde appeared mainly through out highschool as i was not going to a very good stylist lol)
throughout the years, people actually were convinced that i was a natural blonde (ha)…i honestly forgot what being a brunette was like…blonde began to define me. if people needed to find me in a room, they would just have to look for the bright white blonde hair.
so this thought came into my mind two months ago…”i should go dark”. I was perfectly shocked by this thought as I could only imagine myself as blonde. But instead of dismissing this thought, I started to consider it. I started examining brunettes’ hair colour as they walked by…”too reddy, too dark, too light” were opinions that consistently went through my mind. I scoured pictures of celebrities who were blonde but went dark. I finally booked my hair appointment and booked a hair consult with my stylist. (Ashley at Lab, she’s incredible, book her!!!) And then, i gone and done it. Friday, December 3rd marked the end of the golden decade.
and what a good decade it was.
but let me tell you this…i am SO excited for the one to come.
stay gold,
s.s.♥.
an education
I was about to write a blog on a poem that was quoted by one amazing/crazy/amazing preacher who was at church on Sunday BUT thinking about the poem spurred me on to think of other things. I’ll save that for the next diary entry.
Poetry.
I grew up hating poetry. I thought it was soooo boring, so bland, so dry. (Now I cringe as I see those words teamed with poetry.)
I didn’t fall in love with poetry until I stepped into English 12. I remember saying, “I hate poetry” when my eccentric, little, Jewish English 12 teacher announced we’d be starting the poetry unit. I remember her saying something like, “How dare you say that about poetry!” or “That is a sad statement.” Actually, I have no idea what she said, but what I do know is that I left English 12 with my heart sparkling to the moon over poetry. I even signed up for English Literature with that same teacher where I could binge on the classics…mmmm it was bliss.
This got me thinking about teachers and how much influence they can have on us.
Teachers.
There are certain attributes in me that were instilled when I was a young fresh mind. I discovered my love for writing when I was 8 years old in Mrs. Samuelson’s grade 3 class. She made us write stories and I believe I wrote my first novel ‘Ahoy Mate’, (which was 10 whole pages!) in that class. It was followed by its sequel ‘Ahoy Mate 2’.
In one of those elementary grades I read ‘The Secret World of Og’. It was like creativity entered into my soul through each page I read.
Mr. Shear (incorrect spelling) was my grade 5 teacher. In his class, I discovered my love for Victoria. I have vivid memories of field trips consisting of discovering where the original Fort posts were, Rogers Chocolates, Ross Bay Cemetery (which is a very important place in the novel I’m currently writing). Learning the stories behind each place, building, grave made me appreciate the depths of our city. A love was birthed there.
Another love was birthed in grade 6. In Mrs. Sinclair’s class, I fell in love with reading. I can’t even remember how or why it started but it was a grade 5/6 split, where grade six was the smaller portion of the class. A hunger for reading books arose inside of me and ever since that year, I need to always be immersed in a book.
These teachers were monumental in my life. They probably don’t remember me but I cannot forget them and I cannot thank them enough. As I finish this post, it popped into my head why I learned certain things from them…they were passionate. Their passions showed and were contagious. Their passion spread to me and it made all the difference.
Side note- clearly I was not as passionate about spelling as I saved this document as ‘an enducation’ ha.
Stay gold my dear friends…stay gold,
s.s.♥.
break-up letter.
dear snow,
we have a love/hate relationship. i have a few fond memories of/with you. you see, i really like you…at times. these times are when you’re in the safety of my tv, while i am watching much loved christmas movies, especially my fave, MUPPETS FAMILY CHRISTMAS. muppets just make everything ah-mazing. anyways snow, i don’t think you care much about muppets. let’s keep remembering the good times we’ve had. i also like you on mt. washington underneath my snowboard. yes. i really appreciate you there. and if you do want to come visit again, december 25th would be an excellent date. i don’t to break your heart but please leave me as soon as possible. this…what we have here, it’s just not working out. it’s not you it’s me.
xoxo,
s.s.♥.