Cut Your Hair

My hair is finally growing out. Almost touches my shoulders, in fact. Though this may not sound like much of a feet, it's the longest it's been in more than four years and all this length is kind of confusing. Like what am I supposed to do with those inches? Does it just hang there, do I put it up and, if so, ballerina style and severe or messy like a semi-drunk college girl? Anyway, not the point.

The point is this: every girl should have really short hair at some point in her life, preferably for a good chunk of her later formative years. You know, after the early teens when one bad hair day will send you into an emotional shit fit but before you're 20 and about as much of a person as you're going to be.

I say this because of Shenae Grimes of melodramatic 90210 fame. (And don't worry, I'm properly embarrassed about basing anything on Shenae Grimes.) But she was on People's 100 Most Beautiful People issue this year and said something about her hair being a security blanket. Except that she used phrases like "on top of the world" to express this sentiment, blech. Anyway, her hair is her security blanket and I think hair functions in that way for quite a lot of girls.

Having hair short enough to be called dykey when I wore sweatpants was sometimes obnoxious, but it made me get used to my face really quickly. Before I cut it, that stuff hit below my shoulder blades and was all straight and shiney. If I looked like ass, it was easy to hide behind it. When I hacked off a foot-- and then pretty much everthing but and inch or two--shielding the periodic nastiness with my hair became a lot more difficult. (By which I mean impossible.)

It kind of sucked then, but I'm glad of it now because a bad hair day isn't enough to freak me out. I can just pull it back and act like it doesn't exists, I know what I'll find underneath and can deal, even if I'm looking cracked out. It happens.

*This wasn't intended to be a Lessons I've Learned sort of thing, though it admittedly reads that way. My bad.