Has anyone seen my chin?
Every word is a struggle today. I've been coding like crazy, but I've got no head for prose at all. I've wasted twenty minutes that should have been spent trying to find words for my NaNoWriMo novel and this is all I have to show for it.
I'll try to be entertaining tomorrow.
I do hope everyone enjoys the site changes, though. We've got progress bars and smack talk on the Beards4Boobs page, thumbnails in comments, and donations automatically trigger sponsorship updates. If you've got feedback on the site, kudos or complaints, feel free to comment.
This photo was taken shortly before the rogue follicle reached my eye. It was a calmer time, then, and I felt...aloof.
I think I have an ingrown beard hair.
In my right eye.
It itches. Man, does it itch. And I know you're not supposed to rub your eye, but geez oh man it itches like crazy. I'm pretty sure one of my follicles went all kinds of bonkers in a desperate bid for attention...
C'mon, you guys! We can do this! We can be a beard again right now! I'm not waiting around here anymore! I'm going through the dermis and beyond! To the moon, boys! Follow me!
Then things went horribly wrong. Instead of thrusting outward, the crazy motherfollicle sped off in entirely the wrong direction, blazing a haphazard course along the surface of my skull, through my sinus maximilaris and into my tear duct, where it has since been masquerading as a rogue eyelash.
Well, I'm on to you, buddy. I'm soooo on to you.
What time is it?
What time is it, you ask?
IT'S BEARD-GROWING TIME!
No, seriously beard. It's time to start growing.
The problem with the first week of HoNoToGroABeMo, for me personally, is that it's not much different than any other week. I almost never shave twice in any 3 consecutive days, and usually go 5 without shaving. 7 is not unheard of, even.
So really, other than remembering to take a picture every day (which is not something I generally do. I usually don't even know where the camera is) there is really no discernible difference between "me growing a beard" and "me being lazy and not shaving regularly."
Maybe next week.
I am toying with a logo, or an emblem, or whatnot for B4B. Below is the current draft image. I would love criticism, constructive or otherwise. I'm not super-happy with it but that could be my inherent dislike of everything I do.
*EDIT* I cut out the picture, making it a link. I don't think it should offend anybody who's not already offended by the word "boobs" but my offens-o-meter has been broken since 1978.
See the smooth jawline and the clever placement of the head to hide the zit from last night?
Look people. The comments on my not growing a beard post from yesterday devolved into discussion about women's leg hair.
Now you all are intelligent people. I feel awful silly having to go over this again. But BEARD = FACE. It does not fall down and nestle into your armpit. It does not slide around and spread itself all over your back. It doesn't buy cross country tickets for a trip to your calf. Beard remains on the face.
I did wonder for a time why men were allowed to do all sorts of things with facial hair, like sideburns and van dykes and goatees and beards, while women had no such outlet, even though our legs usually encompass more real estate than faces. Why can't we have a knee beard? But no. Society says no knee beard. Knee beard BAD.
So the site is all about how not to grow a beard. Beard is on the FACE. So I continue with my attempts to not grow a beard. And I will tell you, I'm doing a damn good job at it.
And I have a SPONSOR for my extremely womanly smooth failure to sprout hair from my chin. RAWK, thanks for saving the boobs!
(Interestingly, those I DO have.)
Rub, rub here, Rub, rub there, Whether you're tin or brass...
Finally up to the apogee of about #50 grit. From here on out it's increased length and silky softness. And while I have some abrasiveness, I might as well make use of it. Here I am helping out with the dishes...
Speaking of helping, I want to join the chorus and thank those who have already donated, and for their very generous support of my beard and in particular cancer research. I probably would have engaged in this silliness -- er, manly contest of testosterone -- anyway, but this cause and your support of it makes it a lot more worthwhile.
As for the rest of you... cough up the dough, Mac. We gots lives to save with our stubble.
Perhaps the most flattering picture of me in existence. Damn, but I'm a sexy beast...
Natalie recently pointed out two things of late: 1. that my shiny chin is not nearly so shocking of a sight as she had anticipated, and 2. it would help her to overcome this perception if I demonstrated an appropriate level of fear in response. So, here you have it - the utmost terror of the Halloween shearing roiled up from the depths of my soul and deforming my facial muscles out of revulsion.
This was made easier for me to recall by considering the utter horror of yesterday's pic. But don't merely take my word for it, oh no. It seems Mr. Johnson, after gazing on my countenance, is unable to find the goodness in his dreams, and Mr. Miller was so startled by it's freakishness that he declared it his scary picture of the day. To this end, while providing the requested "shock," I decided that Day 3's image need to show a far more attractive, soothing sight.
If look past my Adonis-like visage - and keep trying, I know it's hard, but you'll get there eventually - you can plainly observe an encroaching darkness signifying the lush, if not entirely uniform, growth of a well-supported facial garden. I continue to fertilize with your generosity.
Sensation: mild neck-line itchiness
Palpation: diffuse scratchy nubbins that could, in a pinch, sand Ikea-grade pressboard
Personal satisfaction rating: 4 (out of 5 Norsemen)
Look at that, I'm so good I can grow a beard in my sleep.
So for anyone who knows a teacher, there is no profession that I know of that is more exhausting on a regular basis than teaching. The first thing I learned when I became a student teacher, all those years ago when I was a senior at Iowa State University, was, "Oh...I'm going to be tired the rest of my life." That has easily held true.
That's when I was young and energetic. Then, more than three years ago, I had a child. Suddenly I found new depths of tired. It turns out that a profession even more energy sapping than teaching is parenting a newborn. But you think that's hard...do both at the same time. I was a zombie for about 6 months. For anyone with teenagers in Omaha, Nebraska, there is a chance I that I educated your child during this time period. For that I am sorry. I have no idea what happened during those months. Hopefully you child is unscathed.
It is worth noting that I have not engaged in a high percentage of known professions in the world. Jobs I have held: moving lawns of repossessed houses for the bank, shredding documents for a bank, grocery store cart-jockey, gas station attendant (best job ever), university cafeteria worker (washing dishes, preparing the food, serving, taking money, etc.), university library special collections monkey, substitute teaching, and teaching full time at middle schools.
Of those professions teaching is by far the most energy consuming. But that is like, what nine jobs? By my last count there are at least 28 possible professions in the world (including those nine). So statistically it is likely and even possible that there is another profession that leaves practitioners more ready for a nap by 2PM than teaching. But I don't know what it is. I guess that's what I'm saying.
In any case, what does this have to do with growing a beard? Well...nothing. Other than I just took my picture for the day and I'm half-asleep because I'm a teacher. That's about it.
In my ears: Creed. New album, "Full Circle".
Beard level: Upper lip is fuller than I expected at this point, huh.
Daily sponsor: Happy Jack's podcast. Thanks for your support!
Expressionistic Visage Number The Third.
So Kris Johnson has claimed, incorrectly, that I only have two facial expressions. I present here photographic proof that I have at least three.
I am certain, but have no evidence to prove it, that Kris has seen others in person (more than three). Though he may just have walled them off in the deep recesses of his obviously twisted memories.
Oh, the beard? It continues to be stubble-like, and thankfully not itching yet. Though with Mur here, my chances of winning the beardless-ness of this month just dropped to near zero.
Go Eagle Go!
Already showing the scruff.
Yeah, I've got lumberjack heritage. My grandfather was a lumberjack. He's shorter than me, but one of his hands could crush my skull. And us Gosselins can grow hair like no one's business.
In the land of chin-dor, where the shadows lie...
You see that shadow? That's not shadow. That manhood, baby. That's grit. That's the stuff that strengthens gunfighters, keeps the commies at bay, and wins the land war in Asia. That's stubble. Glorious, rough, abrasive, itchy stubble.
And now, I need to go topple a Latin American dictator. Good day, and God Bless America.
Average hair length: 1mm. And by average, of course, I mean the longest one I could find.
Go ahead. Drink it in.
I'm afraid, ladies, that I'm not presently available, but there's no harm in looking, am I right?
Oh, and that Day 1.5 post? There may have been a little bit of photoshoppery involved. And by photoshoppery, of course, I mean GIMPing.
See? No beard. One zit though. Dealing with that is another month...
So I am coming in late. I know. But I can have my hubby, Cthulhim, vouch for the fact that I have *not* shaved my face in the month of November.
I am here to show you guys HOW NOT TO GROW A BEARD.
You men with your facial hair and your ways. I'm here to tell you how it's not done.
Check it. Not growing a beard RIGHT NOW.
HAPPY to be growing for mammaries!
It was noted yesterday that all of my pictures thus far have featured a downturned lip, so this is provided as a clear example that I am capable of other facial expressions. Much like Wesley noted of himself last year, I am incapable of taking a normal picture, so don't expect to see me in any "traditional smiling poses," unless I have been taken unawares.
And you will not take me unawares.
I have continued to convalesce from a dread respiratory tract illness, but my face has proceeded to pour it's down-time effort into pushing out hair. Look upon this Day 2 chin-darkening and tremble, gentlemen!
My sincerest of thanks to all of you who have donated thus far. I am deeply humbled that I have attracted the sponsorship I have received, and I echo Bob and the others at our amazement and gratitude for your generosity on everyone's behalf.
There are still four weeks left, however. Our chins shall not let you down... and we have not yet begun to fight!
Or, grow. Grow, I mean. Yes.
Sensation: the errant breeze barely registers as abnormal
Palpation: coarsely granular along the maxilla, with a lawn of finely-bendable hair nubbins lower down
Personal satisfaction rating: 4 (out of 5 Norsemen)
So...much...face.
I got a little sidetracked yesterday, so there was no post and—more tragically—no photo of my progress. My son assures me that my beard is "starting to come back", though he expressed some displeasure that it did not immediately spring back into being when I removed my Joker makeup.
What do you mean, "Oh, you've removed your Joker makeup?"
Very funny.
I think if you examine my photograph closely you'll see that (1) I'm definitely not wearing Joker makeup and (2) there's a liberal dusting of...something...over my lip and on my chin. Oh, and I'm molting, too. My chin, in violent protest to being suddenly rendered unprotected against the elements, has decided to shed its skin; as though being skinless is better than just being naked.
Stupid chin. This is why I keep you hidden eleven months out of the year: because you're irrational and stupid.
Now then, I would be remiss if I didn't mention all of the fine folks who have donated to Beards4Boobs thus far. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. It's a great start, and already you've exceeded any expectation I may have had when I first learned that we were dedicating our follicular efforts to charity this year; now I'm curious by just what fantastic margin my expectations can be exceeded.
What do you mean you "don't see it". It's coming in thick! Look closer!
So today I want to say hello to anyone from the school community who might be checking in on this. *waves* It's good to see you. See that little button up there with the money symbols on it...click that and donate. Show these punks that teachers know how to support those in need.
Beyond that, it's getting colder here which makes the lack of facial hair quite apparent to my bare chin-flesh.
Wait a minute, lets back up and qualify "colder". I live in the South but I'm an Iowa boy, born and raised. What we have here in North Carolina is a comfortable autumn day. My family back in the Midwest, meanwhile, have already dug out from a snow storm or two this season already.
I need to be careful about these things. My son will insist on wearing a jacket when it's 70 degrees outside telling me that it's cold. Ultimately, I'm sure that the Southerners surrounding us will win out the day and my offspring will be weather-wusses like all the locals, but that doesn't mean I have to go down without a fight.
In my ears: 10th Wonder podcast (preparing for tonight's episode of Heroes)
Beard level: Suitably stubbly
Daily Sponsor: The Lords of Tyr podcast...thanks for your support.
After liberal application of Miracle-Gro(tm Scotts/Monsanto), my chin is now starting to show some progress. I believe I'm up to about #100 grit. The itchiness is already beginning, which is a lovely feeling, let me tell you.
Since most of the pictures on the site are looking grim and gritty(tm DC Comics) I thought I would lighten the mood a bit by actually smiling. Gruesome!
"And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair!"
Here, you see me working inside my office deep within The Secret Lair.
Normally, I do not look like this. Kris's new toy, which he claims will guarantee him a facial hair victory, was being activated down the hall.
Personally, I have my doubts. I don't care what kind of waste the Large Hadron Collider produces, rubbing the powdery stuff on your face and standing inside one of the Tesla Mark VII Quantum Uncertainty Field Generators cannot be good for you.
This picture was taken when the Mark VIIs were fired up. Note the distortion. I'm not sure what the screaming was all about, but I've sent some minions to check it out.
As for the beard, a healthy stubble is pushing its way out, like spring flowers or zombie hands from the earth. Slow but steady; total victory is assured.
HoNoToGroABeMo NewsFlash: The Fabulous Prize* just got fabulous.
The esteemed, talented, and lovely Natalie Metzger has, in addition to forking over her hard-earned cash to sponsor beards (which makes 'em grow: it's SCIENCE), volunteered to provide an original 8x10 beard-themed art commission for the beard which earns the most sponsorship.
Once again, I must thank everyone for the overwhelming support of Beards4Boobs. I had scarcely dared to hope to collect a few dollars and my crazy secret goal was $500. But we're at $450 and it's only day two!
It's a little scraggly
So, I woke up this morning and this was staring back at me from the mirror.
I win.
Maybe I'll shave again and start over. You know, just to keep it interesting.
Contemplating the universe, instead of getting down to hardcore growing.
My unbearded face is quite a thing to behold, and behold it you will for the next few days. The beard is there, I promise. And it's growing.
Slowly.
Oh, and you may note the Race for the Cure shirt I'm wearing. I am not trying to shill for the competition. I've just had a love of the 2nd B for much longer than B4B has been around.