Once You Go Grey, It Won’t Go Away! Or Will It? No, Apparently Not.

I read this post by Beatrice the Biologist a couple of years ago and I thought it was pretty weird.  I didn’t know hair could do that.

Then, it happened to me! With one notable exception. It wasn’t on my head. It was on my boob! I have a weirdo, rogue boob hair! TERRIFYING YET AMAZING!

I kind of want to keep it and see what happens. Will it grow super long? Will it be grey/brown/grey? Shall I pull it out and keep it forever? Or donate it to science? Does science want multi-coloured boob hair?

I have so many questions about my magical boob hair.

Now that my right boob is magical I feel as though there’s pressure on lefty to do something great. Maybe turn the nipple rainbow coloured!

A girl can dream.

You can read Beatrice the Biologist’s Post here or follow the links and check out all her awesome stuff. Learning! Science! Yay!

Grey Hair Go Away Come Again Another Day

Despite my paltry 27 years in existence, I have a few grey hairs. There, I’ve said it. It feels so good to get that off my chest… or my head, as it were.

On Monday morning I spotted one of these hairs while I was blowdrying my unwieldy locks. Although I’ve heard many a myth about the dangers of plucking grey hairs and the resulting funerals hairs throw,

I threw caution to the wind and pulled it, not so much because it was white, but rather because it was a 3-inch floater amidst my head of 2-foot hair, and it was annoying me.

But when I inspected the plucked hair, I noticed something odd.
My hair was grey at the end, but closest to the root, it was brown. It seems this hair follicle can’t make up its mind. I didn’t think this was possible.



And before you start accusing me of getting a bad dye job at the salon, listen up: I have never dyed my hair. Not once.
I thought perhaps the grey stint was due to stress. I also considered the possibility that I was some kind of wizard or chosen one. So I searched the interwebs for someone who researches the metabolic processes that lead to grey hair. I found Dr. Desmond Tobin, a professor of Cell Biology and the Director of the Centre for Skin Sciences at the University of Bradforth in Great Britain (hence the fancy “re” at the end of what I would write as center).
He verified that hair follicles can resume producing hair with pigment after a stint of grey, but that this happens in the early stages of a hair follicle going grey. So in other words, this particular hair follicle is trying really hard to not be old, but it’s soon going to succumb to its grey-ness.
As for blaming stress, there is no evidence that stress causes grey-ness. It is almost entirely genetically determined, with a small amount of environmental/dietary influence possible. So I’m not mad at you, hair follice, I’m mad at someone else.
You know who you are.

Mental Illness is My Jam

I have a delightful rotating background on my desktop here at work.

There are two warring images that I see from time to time and I feel I need to write about them. So there.

The first is this:


Am I? Do I? On a really good day! 😀

I like this because on a really good day I feel as though it’s actually true.

If I’m just tired or bored and I start to grump out I can remember this and think of the good stuff and attempt to be happy.

Or at least … attempt the attempt?

Does that count?

Positive attitude and all that rot!


The second is this:


I love her. Full on girl crush. ❤

When I saw this one I had to save it so I could see it and remember.

I have read Jenny Lawson’s “Furiously Happy” so I know I read it there, but this time it had a picture! 🙂 And I probably needed to see it and absorb it into my silly brain.

I then did what any 21st Century human would do and I posted it on Facebook with the comment, “YES!!”

Later on someone said to me that only people with depression would understand it and I sort of mumbled that yes, that’s probably true even though part of me was saying, NO! THAT’S NOT RIGHT!

My brain held on to this and I started thinking about it more and more and feeling like it isn’t right but not really knowing why.

So here I am, 3 months later, blogging about it because that’s how I talk to the world and I need to get this out of my brain.

This is what I think.  It is definitely possible that only people with a mental illness would understand the sentiment in the picture above. BUT I think that if we shared this stuff with the world then maybe more people would understand how to understand. If that makes sense.

I am teetering on the brink of screaming to the whole world something along the lines of, “Yes, I am broken! I have a mental illness! Sometimes I can’t get out of bed and sometimes even showering takes a massive effort of will. Other days I feel totally fine! I’m tired of pretending and if you don’t understand you can suck it!”

It’s still scary because people will judge. But I think there are other people who will try to learn and understand and help.

That’s why I shared that picture. It’s a tiny “eff you” to those who would judge and a tiny “let’s talk” to those who want to understand.

Imagine if we talked about this stuff freely. If everyone knew that some people felt this way and it wasn’t their fault and they can’t just cheer up.

Imagine if we helped the world to understand where we are coming from and that when we withdraw from the world it’s not because we’re being rude or we’re angry, but because the world has become too much for us at that moment and we need a break.

Imagine feeling like you don’t ever have to pretend!

You can call in sick and say that you’re having a hard time with your depression right now and you need a few days and your work would be okay with that.

Imagine all these people that we educated could recognize the signs in their friends and loved ones and give them the help they need. Even if that help is simply letting them watch Supernatural in bed and bringing them Doritos.

Imagine not feeling oddly uncomfortable and that you need to say something when a Bell commercial for talking about mental illness comes on the TV. hehe I did say something. Everyone in the room already knew that mental illness is my jam so it really wasn’t a big deal, even though I feel like sometimes not everyone knows if it’s safe to comment. It is!

This is all part of why I started blogging in the first place. I want a place to write about whatever I fancy, but I also want to stop hiding and pretending.

This is me.

Suck it!

Fire Bum

 This giant bag of meds is dedicating its existence to stopping my innards from producing ridiculous volumes of diarrhea!
I’ve had problems since I had my gall bladder out and given the fact that I’m hopeless at sticking to a healthy diet this is my alternative.

It might also be good for my mystery side pain. By the Sphincter of Odin!

The Pharmacist informs me it also helps with cholesterol! Triple happiness for my fat laden innards!

I hope it works or I might have to start eating properly and losing weight and then feeling good. Laaaaaame!!


It’s full of sachets of powder that you mix and drink and boy howdy is it ever disgusting! I’m beginning to appreciate the merits of diarrhea.

Time to buy some applesauce methinks!