Wednesday, August 7, 2013

There's a Hedgehog on my Head...

I suppose I should 'pologize for not posting in a long time. Sowwy.
Now that all's forgiven, I can proceed in introducing my NEW PET. 
Thanks to *TSP*, I've been studying Georgian fashion. It's been interesting. Regency is all about columns, long vertical lines, flowy gowns, and Greek statuary, but Georgian...quite simply, Georgian is all about the POOF. So POOF it is. 
I've discovered the method of curling my hair--insert squeal--why aren't you squealing?--perhaps we need some backstory.
Catie's Tragic History of Trying to Curl her Hair  
by Catie
Once upon a time there was a 10-year-old girl named Catie who thought that the epitome of hairstyling was a smooth, bump-free (usually greasy) ponytail on the back of her head. She wore this for several months, until her best friend convinced Catie to allow her to curl Catie's hair for the LPCC concert. Catie allowed it. After 45 minutes, when the heat of the curling iron had removed all of the humidity from the air in the bathroom, a curl was born. It was not just any curl. It was a Nellie Olson curl. Catie was excited. Catie ran to show her mother. As she opened the door, the curl realised that there was humidity outside the bathroom. It died.
Catie often tried again to curl her hair, but it never really worked. After her sister Jess bought the best curling iron ever, she could get a few Romantic wispies, but they never stayed long. Catie gave up in despair and cried in the dark, cobwebby corner.
 All right, I made up the last part. You get the point. I was reading the other day, however, about paper curls. I tried it. It worked. I kept waking up at odd hours, but it worked.
Back to the new pet. It is called a hedgehog, and you can see some examples of it here. Mine is semi-historically-accurate. That is, I didn't feel like following instructions, so I pinned and pulled and twisted until it looked right--that is to say, frizzy.

 I am enormously proud of the thing. Now for an almost-semi-historically-accurate construction. I managed to get hold of Gabbi (actually, she volunteered) at a sleepover. The results?

hehe.hehehe. POOF.
I had to climb on a chair (while she was sitting down) to reach it. Part of that is that I am short (according to Jessie). Part of that is, quite simply, POOF.
I think it is time to cease my incoherent rambling about hair--in the meantime, if you haven't read/watched The Scarlet Pimpernel, go do so. For your own good. :D

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