First off, of course I'm going to ramble on about Argentina. My life. I miss Buenos Aires every single day, and miss how adventurous and fearless I was. This is a picture looking down on my terrace roof of my first apartment, where I lived with Felipe (who was so awesome that he climbed up the attic ladder and took the photo of everyone). This was the first time I got yelled at for being too loud, but it was my 22nd birthday, I'm okay with that. Seeing as how that apt royally screwed me over, I do not feel bad about having a good time.
Last for the night... my hair. I've changed my hair a lot since high school, and will only be changing it more. I have lovely dreads now and a funky fringe that is sometimes hard for me to rock with confidence. Sometimes I think back to the long blonde hair I've had since 3rd grade and ask myself if I miss it. I have to say... I do, sometimes, when I see those damn Garnier Fructis commercials or the John Frida product ads. Every time I think about my old hair though, I think of this picture. I'm not sure if I'm topless with a scarf, or just wearing a spaghetti strap tank top and a scarf. Either way, I know it was beautiful, I know it can grow back again, but I wish people would accept me for how I am now. Instead of looking back to High School days, or complaining about how "my beautiful hair is ruined". I don't sit here and complain about your ugly comeover, or those hideous Crocs on your feet. Not that I'm a total fashionista myself, but at least I'm somewhat unique.
I like my awkwardness. I like my screwy bangs. I like my ratty dreads and my experimental makeup. I like my odd facial expressions to make each picture different. I never want to be a porcelain doll. I always want to be an Etch-a-Sketch of weird quirky Me.
That's it for meow.
-Jenny
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