Bad hair day

Short hair is good. Long hair is good. But that in between stage? Not so good. For many years my hair has been relatively short. But before that it was fairly long at several different times. Now I'm letting it grow out simply because I enjoy long hair and I'm finally at a time in my life when I can take the time to care for it.

Somewhere between long and short hair reaches that stage where you can't seem to do anything with it. I wake up with hair in my face. It's just long enough to twist and put it up with a clip... until the finer strands slip out. I've tried plastering down all the shorter strands with small clips. Unfortunately I look like a futuristic robot then.

I figure another four to six weeks will do it. By then I'll be able to wear it in a stubby ponytail--just in time for the summer heat to arrive!

When I was a kid, I could sit on my hair. My mom was no fool. She kept it braided. Then she died and my dad took one look at that mass of hair and said, "Oh, no, not me!" He plopped a bowl over my head and cut it all off. Instant Beatles cut waaaaay before they were even a twinkle in someone's brain. To be perfectly fair to my dad, there were four of us and I was the oldest child. I'm sure he had his hands full back then.

I'm not ambitious enough to want it that long again. But I'm looking forward to wearing it up with some fancy clips. Until then, Chewbacca and I will have more than our beards in common.

anny