My hair is at it again.
It’s frizzing, curling, waving, tumbling, and becoming out of hand. Like a teenage boy in desperate need of some Ritalin.
But you know, it seems to me that the more time I spend blowing it out of my eyes and finding a new way to tame it back a little more, the more compliments I get on it.
“Your hair is so big! It’s fantastic!” Yeah. Have you got a hairband so I can harness it a bit?
“The colour of your hair is so beautiful! Did you get that from a box?” Uhh…Yep. Just like I got this pale skin from a jar.
“Gosh. I wish I had your hair.” Sorry. It’s firmly attached to my scalp.
Now, it’s by no means as crazy as the beautiful curls that my roommate often times struggles with, but sometimes I actually consider just cutting it all of despite the protests I receive from the people closest to me.
I swear, some people are much more attached to my hair than I am. Literally.
But when I think about it a little more, I realize that if I didn’t have this hair that some creator decided to grace me with, my identity would be something much different than it is today. I mean…if nothing else, I’d probably feel guilty about telling ginger jokes…
I’ve decided that it’s a love/hate relationship, but that could change in the morning. But for now, I’ll keep this mane.
I hope you’ve all been well since I’ve been away. Perhaps I’ll be back again this week.
Until next time,