My nails are short. I like them long. I like them short. Nick tends to like them long because they become a useful tool for back scratches. I'm in a short mood. This crisp and sassy mood alternates frequently with a sensual and earthy mood. Both can be mysterious. I've yet to cut my hair, but I did paint my nails a vivid red. 'I Red a Good Book/ Ballon rouge' is the name of the color. They should've kept their name short. I've been flirting with the idea of chopping my hair off since 2008 and I can't pull the trigger. There are a lot of reasons why. One: As soon as I got serious about it and announced it one of Nick's friends almost jumped through the window of the car. We had not seen this friend in a while. He's super nice and evidently likes long hair on girls. That reaction made me hesitate. Two: You can make long hair look short but can't make short hair look long. Three: I like wearing it straight back off my face and twisting into a chignon- impossible for short hair. Four: It's really easy. My hair dries fast and even if it is wet I can wrap it back and it looks fine. Long hair is great for lazy days. I don't want to style my hair every day, there's a life to be lived!! Five: I like hiding behind it sometimes. Six: It's been pointed out to me that I twirl a strand over and over my forefinger when I'm lost in thought. What will my forefinger think if I take away her friend? Seven: If I commit to short hair then I have to be spunky, high style me instead of spiritual, roll-in-the-grass me all the time. No can do.
I've had long, dark hair most of my life. Once in college I went to a salon with a friend and had them cut it really short. When we got back to our dorms I was frustrated that my cut looked like a half ass attempt to be short, so I grabbed scissors and continued, judging it all in a full length mirror stuck to our door. My friend Brett was there and she told me later that she was pretty worried as she watched me. But she was a great friend and didn't let me know that at the time. The short hair wasn't so bad. I wish I'd had access to the best hairstylists, then it may have been really fun. With short hair, it seems to me, the cut becomes more important. Once, I was brave and decided to try a hair stylist in Moultrie, my home town, to give me a trim. Mistake. Huge Mistake. I remember her cutting one side of my hair and becoming enthralled with the beauty shop conversation about husbands and boxers and drawers. Something about them never ending up in the drawer. Well, I should've voiced my thoughts which were "What the hell, lady!! Who cares? Focus on my hair." I was so baffled by the accents (Because believe it or not, not every Southerner sounds like a hick- these Southerners did.) and the content of the drama (underwear? really?). Add that to the fact that I was 19 and you have the reason for my meekness. Well, you probably guessed it. She cut the same side of my hair twice and left the other pretty much untouched. I went home, showed my mom the haircut, and cried. I ended up going back and making her fix it. What a disaster. It has taken me a long, long time to say what I really think about my hair to the stylist. In that moment of the reveal I feel that it's more about their work than my hair. I never want to hurt their feelings.
In St. Simons Island I went to lunch with a friend that had changed her hair from blonde to brunette. She asked me a question about how I felt with dark hair. She said that she felt she had to be serious with dark hair and wanted to know if I felt that way. But, I've always felt serious. So, I was of no help. She was comparing the two hair colors and the moods she associated with them and the effect it had on her. I thought it was an interesting subject. I've never been blonde. I've never put any chemical treatment on my hair. I've liked it and so I've never changed the color. I can imagine feeling light and whimsical with blonde hair. I like seeing the golden colors like Jennifer Aniston's and also the platinum versions that Scarlet Johansson and Rachel McAdams wear nicely. The truth is that I do agree with her to the extent that I feel very attached to my hair and it's a big representation of who I think I am. I have this unchanged hair, long, the same as I had when I was a little girl picking blackberries in the woods behind my house or trying to do back handsprings without my ponytail flopping under my hands, in which case my scalp got a yank. I'm tempted to get a wig and be blonde for a day. Just to see. I'd never abandon my dark hair though. I like the depth of dark hair and if I colored my hair I'd most likely go darker not lighter. Fits my personality.
This thought thread started with me looking at the keyboard and being pleased with the red flash of my finger tips. Somehow my hair pulled rank.
I saw a Yahoo news flash that Cameron Diaz cried over a haircut gone awry. The article seemed to have a tone of mild condescension, like this- "Oh, poor, poor you... you got a bad hair cut... oh I feel so sorry for your heart ache and bad day. Don't you realize there are people who have real reasons to cry?" I don't agree with that tone. Here's why. The journalist is the one who is writing about it as if it is news. Yahoo is the outlet featuring it as if it is newsworthy. So, it's not Cameron Diaz asking for public attention regarding her hair, it's the writer and publisher. Also, when you get a hair whacking when you wanted your layers trimmed, it often leads to an emotional response whether you want it to or not. People do a lot of things around their hair- they don't cut it for religious reasons or they sleep upright to prevent, I don't know, mashing it against the pillow I suppose. So, it's not totally off the charts that she cry over her hair being on the floor and not rooted to her head. I've seen her interviewed and others talk about her and she seems pretty down to earth and cool. For instance, it was said that she broke her nose snow boarding and she just popped up out of the snow laughing. That's no priss pot if you ask me. And she respects aging, welcoming it and announcing her age with no signs of shame or dread. That's refreshing. Regarding the attempt to compare hardships, that's always a losing battle. Everything is relative. Everything. Try telling my niece Madeline that taking her blankie away from her and throwing it in a fire is no big loss in the world. It's not true for her. It's a big loss from her perspective. Earth shattering.
Relative. It's not fair to judge it. Fair. Woooooh, that's a whole other word and writing day.
I'm done for now.
I'll go blend my moods, long hair and short nails. It seems that contradictions are always a part of the human's self characterization. That's a good thing. How boring if not.
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