Tag Archives: frizz

The hair.

You’ve probably noticed that over the past few weeks, I have made several references to my hair.  Perhaps it’s an unhealthy obsession, but what I want you to know is that my hair really is a BIG deal.  Big.  And it has a mind of it’s own.

I’m feeling kind of guilty for the downer-ness and severe lack of funny that was my post yesterday, so to make up for it,  I decided to share with you the photo I alluded to a few days ago when I said:

“Everything through the end of high school was essentially precambrian… early, unformed, and frizzy.  I wasn’t really sure how to have curly hair yet and many pictures exist to remind me of that.  (Many… frizzy… photos…  Want to see one?  Too bad!  It’s far too awful and I’m not that secure.)”

I’m still not that secure, but this hair– it’s too much, and I’m so relieved to finally be able to find it funny.  Here’s hoping you will find it funny too, because I owe you that!

So, without further ado, I present to you The Hair:

Mushroom Hair

This is my school photo from picture day in sixth grade.  To complete the look– that’s a BODY SUIT (complete with crotch snaps) under that crocheted vest.  Let me say that again: crocheted vest.  And I’m wearing green jeans.  Green.  Jeans.  Oh yeah.  Picture.  Day.

This was just the beginning of a really, really bad hair period in my life.  I still remember getting the cut in fifth grade.  I had a pool party at school the next day (because of course) and a boy in my class (who shall remain nameless, but I do remember his name, and this is the only reason…) said, loudly, for all the laughs in the class, “I wonder what it looks like wet?!”  Ahhhh ha ha ha.  Hilarious.  The answer: not so hot.  But then again, didn’t exactly look stellar dry now, did it?

You may be thinking right now something like, “well, it’s not that bad…”  because you’re a nice person and you don’t want me to feel bad.  But stop.  Because this:

Hair Compare

Oh man.  My future children are going to have a field day with this– I’m glad I’ll be laughing with them!

 

I know it’s hard to believe that a foxy lady like me, all square jaw and size 11 feet, used to look like that.  But believe it.  It’s true.  And my hair still has some of those special qualities.  For example, the more upset or nervous I get, the bigger my hair becomes.  Maybe it’s because my head gets hot?  I don’t know… but much like the mushroom cloud expanding over time, so is the hair on my head.  (You can read that like the Days of Our Lives slogan– like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.)

Cue violin music!