Because I need another reason for Bear to roll his eyes at me
April 4, 2008, 11:22 am
Filed under: daily | Tags:

When I was born, I was hairy. Not like monkey-hairy (some babies are born with the layer of hair that covers us all in utero. Most of us lose it, a few unfortunate do not. It’s not bad, it all falls out eventually, but talk about unfortunate newborn photos. I was not born THAT kind of hairy, I just had a lot of hair on my head. In fact, family lore has it that as I was crowning (oh ain’t that a lovely image?), a nurse quipped, “A hair is born!” Hardy har har.

Anyways, all that hair was quickly replaced with the honey blonde of my youth. In even greater volumes. We are a hairy, hairy family, we are. Piles of it. We make bald men (my father, in particular. Oh, and probably Dan.) jealous. With all that hair atop my head, there was no way my no-nonsense mother was going to be fussing with it every morning. So, bob with bangs it was! Think of my current hairdo, make it blonder, and add some bangs. Oh, and while you’re at it, make those bangs split in the middle, just slightly left of center, thanks to my delightful double cowlick. That was me for most of my childhood.

And then came the unfortunate hair cut. The dark days of my youth. I was an awkward elementary schooler, all bones and knees and elbows, teeth and eyes. Add to that an inch long haircut. Yea. I think it contributed to the person I am today. (Bitter! scarred! shy as all get-out!). After that finally grew out (it seemed to take AGES, but looking back at photos, it took less than a year), I was against having anything even faintly resembling short hair ever again. So it grew down. Down, down down. At the longest, I think it was close to the middle of my back.

Now remember, I have a lot of hair. It’s kind of amazing that I have enough room in my scalp to hold it all. When you have a lot of hair, making it longer makes it very heavy. Very hard to manage. But I dealt with it, because of my vanity.

I discovered my inner laziness in college. I also discovered that due to my lack of interest in wearing bosom-baring blouses and high heeled shoes to class, I looked a lot younger than my peers here. So, I cut off the hair. Oh the joy! It was so easy to maintain! It was so light! It stopped being all damaged from years of mis-guided attempts at controlling it! It became smooth and lustrous! YAY!

But now I’m a little tired of it. I feel like something new. Going shorter isn’t an option (still scarred from the 4th grade), so I guess I’ll have to grow it out. Also, I will probably be getting married in the next 3-5 years, and I am opposed to wearing my hair down as a bride. I am also opposed to trying to fake an updo, as I did for my friend’s wedding in October. My hair doesn’t grow particularly fast, so if I start now, my hair will probably be of an appropriate length for a wedding in at least 3 years.

Also, I have learned from past mistakes, and will continue getting it cut frequently to keep it healthy. That requires me to have even more time to reach an appropriate length.

So, there you have it. I’m going to start growing out my hair. Sorry, Bear!

Coda: I reserve the right to change my mind at any moment regarding this. I may hit a certain length and decide that I would rather cut off my fingers than keep it like that, and off to the hairdresser I’ll go. Just warning you.


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