On Being Predictable.

Amy,

So I took your advice. I heard you. I got really excited about doing everything to my hair. Bangs, red, and layers. And then I realized my curling iron was dual voltage (a major win for an American living in Germany) and gave myself too much time to think.

You see, I started loving my hair again, after just a few minutes with the curling iron. So then I asked myself what it was about my hair that I loved. And the answer was easy: it is easy. Dying my hair would have taken that away. I would have had to keep up with it or have a weird red ombre thing going on. And I knew that wouldn't be good for me.

Bangs would have to be washed before walking out of the house every day and I knew that was not happening.

Long layers might still happen.

Long story short, your hair theory is genius, I'm a wuss, I love curling irons, and I'm lazy. So this is what my hair looks like now:

Side note, your photos were killing me. I love seeing Little Amy so much. I think Little Amy and Little Mallory would have been bosom friends. You with your (requested) bowl cut and me with my bangs that are cut so far into my hair that it's pretty much a mullet. Best bosom friends.

Now, onto my wardrobe journey. You've heard of a capsule wardrobe. (Have you readers?) I came across Un-Fancy and my life changed. All of a sudden I realized the clutter in my house, in my filing cabinet, in my closet was taking up all the room in my mind, leaving none for the more creative, happy, joy-inducing endeavors I'd like my mind to be storing.

a current capsule wardrobe FAVORITE

So I purged. Currently, I have 33 items in my closet, and that includes shoes. And I feel great about it. I don't feel deprived, I always have something to wear, and my mind? MUCH MORE CLEAR. Plus, bonus, I felt better about investing in a few key items for my "fall capsule," which, as you know, has always been hard for me.

Would you ever do a capsule wardrobe? I swear, it's a game changer.

Anyway, I'd really love to hear about whats going on in your life. How's work treating you? How are those crazy dogs of yours? How's Aaron doing?! Also, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?

All my love,
Mallory

PS Your Halloween is my today. Knuckles.

My Halloween.

Thought you should know. Ain't no shame in my Halloween game. But really, I hope yours was a better, funner Halloween.

Going full tilt.

Mallory.

Revolutionary idea. A game changer. Truly. Are you ready for this?

Why don't you go for all three?

I know, I know! It's a big change! But hear me out. You've had hair for how long now? 27.75 years? Give or take a decimaled number? Right? How many hair cuts do you think have taken place during those years? Definitely more than 50, right? (God knows when we were little and barely able to speak a full sentence our mothers decided to chop our hair into abysmal monstrosities, yes?)

That's me celebrating my second birthday. Notice how I'm still (essentially) bald.

So horrible haircuts/styles didn't come until later. When I could carry on a conversation.

So what is one big change going to do? Maybe positively rock your world. Because let's be honest. You would be hot with some long, layers + blunt bangs and a color change-up. Red! I've always wanted to go red. I think that's the only reasonable hair fantasy I've never gone after. (For much too long I dreamed of white blonde hair, which is laughable. Because I love the hair on my head and if I decided to bleach the shit out of my mop it would have fallen out, resulting in no hair.) So I'd like to live vicariously through you. I think red--even a brown with a red tone--would be absolutely beautiful on you. Especially considering the season we have currently entered into!

Hair! I was four, so it was about time something started growing on my head.

My approach to everything, most definitely including hair, is this: you live one life. You don't get a second chance. That tattoo you want? Get it. That leather jacket? Rock it. Wing-tip eyeliner? Hell yeah. So you want to wear bright yellow plaid pants? Please do. And you want to drastically change your hair? Good lord YES. Just make sure you find a reputable salon. Walk in there and--language barriers be damned--tell them your story. (Can language barriers be damned?) It'll seem silly. It really will because we're reasonable people and it's "just hair." But if you're nervous about getting it cut then my guess it's more than just hair to you.

And what girl can blame you? Hair is like a security blanket and a status symbol in this woman's world.

Horrible hairstyle. NO THANKS, MOM.

But guess what? You're dreaming right now about some pretty awesome hairstyles and I don't see how any of them couldn't work. And, let's be real, if you get those bangs you're going to have to layer it up a bit. So why not go full tilt and dye it red(ish), too?

My mom claims I asked for that haircut. (What can it be called other than a bowl cut?)

I LOOKED LIKE A BOY FOR A YEAR.

Think about it.

Also, let's tell the world about your really awesome wardrobe journey.

XOXOX BACK TO YOU.

Amy

Hair!

Hey there Amy.

(Like how I started that like we didn't neglect this blog for like a year?)

As you know, I've missed this space and this capacity of chatting with you. Like, so much. So I'm glad to be back. I can't even dive into life right now. Too much to catch up on, so let's keep it light for a post or two.

My hair. Does nothing.

Your haiiir! To be honest, I wasn't a huge advocate of the partially shaved head on girls trend until you pulled it off in a big way. You changed my mind. I love it, and I'm insanely jealous that your hair just looks that amazing on its own. (Well with a little curling DAYS previously.) I'm also super inspired and secretly (not so secretly) really terrified of your "it's just hair, it'll grow back" attitude. I get frozen in fear the second I decide I am going to do something with my hair. And then I end up doing nothing. And hating it. I'm at that point right now.

So here we go, I need advice. I need a hair cut. I need help deciding. So here are a few options, please, please weigh in? And I'm even going to welcome a write in candidate if you have one. Or vote for one of these. Or two of them combined. I just need help. PLEASE?

Okay. There are pros and cons to each of these, but I'm not going to talk your ear off, because I'm trying to have your attitude and just do it. And you're SO right! There is something about a good haircut that makes you feel so good about yourself. I am still trying to find my style. I think I've spotted it, but it's still not in my closet. I just need to do it.

On that note, can we talk about capsule wardrobes? I'm really interested, especially after listening to this awesome podcast. I want to hear what you think about it before I weigh in with my thoughts. But spoiler: I'm tempted...

I've missed you too! I can't wait to hear back from you.

XOXOX Mallory

It's been a minute.

MALLORY. We've neglected this space long enough.

Okay. There may be more important things to talk about, like Gilmore Girls on Netflix (their marketing campaign was genius) or your current country of residence or my promotion or any of it. But right now I need to call attention to something that leaves me marveling. Despite the fact that we talked about this via text message (however briefly), it deserves another moment in the spot light. BEHOLD! My hair has been doing magical things as of late:

Also, my text message face is on point. You have to admit.

(I really did wake up (with hair) like dat! ...Really ashamed about using the non-word "dat.") Look at the body in that hair! The wavy, unfuzzy hair! The length (simultaneously asymmetrical and shaved, I'm sickeningly trendy)! The color (I like it)!

What is it about a good haircut that turns a woman's confidence into something untouchable? Lately I've felt so perfectly me. My style seems to have come together--make up choices, wardrobe, haircut, shoes (a woman's shoe wardrobe looks drastically different from their clothing wardrobe). It may not impress anyone else, but I'm kind of loving this chapter of my 20s. Despite the challenges. That's never happened before, I can guarantee you.

Any ways... What was meant to be a light-hearted "welcome back!" turned into a soul searching session (say that 10 times fast).

I've missed you, Mal!

Amy

He is Home + I am back.

Dear Amy,

Hello again. So sorry for the time lapse I've allowed to pass before responding! As you know we had a very big week in between your last letter and now. Actually two very big weeks. It all started with a homecoming of epic proportions and ended with a lot of vomit. (TMI?)

But first of all, thank you so much for your letter. While I was awaiting the arrival of my better half, I was a bundle of nerves and your words touched my heart. I agree wholeheartedly. Deployments are awful. Emotionally draining, physically exhausting, and you never feel quite right. But that homecoming. Oh man. One of the best feelings you will ever experience.

That moment of waiting. 

Our day was great. I was so nervous all day. I didn't eat much, I didn't think much, I didn't do much. I went for a run. I kept my kid alive. And I lived in this tiny world in my head that was altogether chaotic and calm. I went through motions while watching myself from the outside, and then it was time to go. Time to pick up my husband.

We watched all four planes fly overhead and my heart started pounding. Harry was confused, but loved being outside and people watching. I didn't see anyone. I was just waiting to see those planes land and taxi around the corner. I knew Jon was in the last plane and it felt like an eternity for those propellors to stop moving and people to start filing out of the plane.

My eyes scanned the little, uniformed people as they excited looking for my little uniformed person. The second I saw his walk, I knew it was him. I couldn't see his face, his name tag, his hair, but I could see his walk. And I knew the second that he saw us. He started walking straighter, faster, with a purpose. As he got closer I found myself frozen to the spot (which surprised me, I thought I'd start running as soon as I could) and scanning his face. Looking for changes. His hair was longer. He was thinner. But his smile was still his. As big as I've ever seen it, but it was still Jon. 10 feet away from us, he put down his bags and I jumped into his arms.

The most amazing feeling. I hadn't held anyone's hand in 5 months and you'd never realize how weird that was unless you did it.

You know that moment. It's like the whole world doesn't exist, just you two (well three). Harry was a little stand-offish. He didn't want Jon to hold him. You could tell he recognized him, but was confused why he wasn't in the computer. Don't worry, he warmed up to him in just a few short minutes. I was so happy to finally, finally after 5 long months, have him home. All I wanted to do was to drag him to the car and go home. I didn't want to go on vacation, I didn't want to listen to his commander talk about all the good they had done. I wanted to be at home with my two boys. To sit on the floor and talk. To hold hands.

And since he's been home, it's been great. Just great having him home. Great washing dishes or vacuuming or going for a walk, because Jon's doing all of that with me. In the past two weeks, we've gotten into a daily routine, we've thrown a birthday party for Harry, we've hosted house guests, we've celebrated my birthday, we've taken a trip to New Orleans, and we've all gotten sick. And today he returned to work. All is normal again, in a way. In another way, it's very different.

But I'm so happy he's home. Life feels right again.

How are you my friend? Can you believe it's February? Any goals for the month? I've got to start organizing. My house, my mind, my calendar, my life. I need to.

xoxo, Mallory

To you during this very emotional week...

To my dear Mallory,

As you know, I wrote you a different letter. A sucky letter. What I meant to write was a heartfelt, yet level-headed response to your letter about homecomings. Unfortunately, as soon as I started really thinking about our deployments, the letter turned into this powerfully depressing babbling of thought and emotion and crap. Total crap.

Because deployments are crap.

How was your homecoming? How are you? How is Harry? How is Jon? How are you guys? What is your life like now? How are you the same? How are you different?

I just left a comment on your post. And I can promise you I am still crying; I just love your little family so much. Like I said in my comment, I wouldn't wish a deployment on my worst enemy--whether deployed military member or spouse. I just wouldn't. As a caring person, I couldn't wish a deployment on anyone. A deployment is, in my opinion, the weirdest, most effective form of torture. If a country ever needs to break someone, deploy the person they love most to a war zone. It will break them into a million pieces.

Simultaneously, I count military families as the luckiest families. I've never been able to describe the feeling that washes over you right before grabbing your formerly deployed spouse, the love of your life. It is intense. It is so intense it is practically mind-numbing. But it can't numb you because your heart is going a million miles per hour, while also taking the most deliberate, pounding beats against your chest. You want to cry. You want to scream. You feel like your legs might give out. And there's so much happening at one moment--other families being reunited, taking in your spouse's appearance [Aaron always returns looking incredibly different; he spends too much time in the weight room], maybe talking to each other, maybe making weird squealing noises [me].

It never feels weird being reunited. It feels weird falling back into daily routines. Dinner seems so basic. So important yet so insignificant. Taking the dog for a walk seems ridiculous. Worrying about bills seems like a non-worry. Getting gas seems laughable. The daily routines are necessary, but seem so strange after months of separation.

 Only an hour after he got home from Afghanistan.

A month and a half after returning from Afghanistan and a month after he stopped cutting his hair.

Aaron always wants to shower as soon as he walks in the door. And because it's been months, I usually sit on the bathroom floor with Hurley [Chuck has yet to endure a deployment], talking to him and joking and asking questions and reliving the reunion. After returning from Afghanistan, we went out to dinner with friends. Aaron was so exhausted after 48 hours of traveling [he doesn't sleep on planes], that he almost fell asleep mid-sentence. I kid you not. I picked Aaron up at the airport at 12:30AM after his deployment to Kuwait. We got home around 2AM. He fell asleep almost immediately and I was awake until 4AM. I honestly just sat there watching him. I couldn't believe he was home. In my bed. Waking up in a sweat because I had an all-too-real dream of him being killed by a sniper might still happen, but he was home and I wouldn't have to check CNN with tears running down my cheeks to confirm it was all a dream. I could just roll over and cuddle into him.

I have a lot of opinions about deployments and their affects on military members and their spouses. Surprise, surprise. But we'll discuss those at a different time. I want to know how it's been.

How has it been since your best friend got home?

I am so happy for you. I'm still crying.

Amy