Sunday, December 18, 2011

You're On Your Own, Rapunzel!

What do fat men, mysterious packages, and bankruptcy have in common? Thats right. It's Christmas.

It certainly doesn't feel like it, though. Wheres the snow? The surprise relatives? The carolers to use as moving targets in our snowball fights? For that matter, WHERES MY HAIR?

Sorry, its been a weird week. Since I was a wee muffin of a child I've had long hair. Of course I wasn't born with long hair and looked much like Dora the Explorer as a kid minus the backpack, and the map, and the fox and the Spanish heritage... Anyways! Since I was planning to be a princess when I grew up I decided that I must have long, Rapunzel-esq locks or lore. And I did. It just grew and grew like a brunette chia pet until it was here this summer (after I had cut off a few inches): 

I guess every princess has to grow up some day. Plus I was sick of getting tangled in my hair and waking up bound in a cocoon of hair in the morning. So was Laurel, Steph, or Victoria whenever they slept over. Oh, and of sitting on it. Besides choking thugs or pulling princes up towers, there wasn't much I could do with my super-locks. So, yesterday, it all came off. 

Let me rephrase that. I didn't go bald or bobbed, but I did cut off more than i've ever done before. Some people would say I still have long hair. I feel like a newly shaven monk, ready to don my scratchy robes and move to the nearest monastery. You know when people who have lost a appendage through accidents/war/freak golfing accidents explain how they can still feel the limb after its long gone? Same with my hair...only a lot less serious. I'll reach for my braid to twiddle with it during math and meet thin air. Oh, its so weird.


I've been wondering about why people grow so attached to their hair? (See what I did there? Ha ha- oh, forget it.) A scientist would say that it is "Any of the cylindrical, keratinized, often pigmented filaments characteristically growing from the epidermis of a mammal". A romantic would say it is a woman's crowning glory, the first thing people notice about you. The Bible talks about hair quite a lot. About not being vain about hair, Sampson and his miraculous hair, and all sorts of steamy similes in Song of Soloman. One such example is : 
"Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel. Your hair is like royal tapestry; the king is held captive by its tresses." - S o' S 7:5  
(They don't call the Bible the greatest love letter ever written for nothing. Also possibly the longest one.)

Whatever the ultimate reason for the value of hair, men don't seem to particularly notice hair. Guys might notice a girl's hair from time to time but as to their own they seem to think of it as a bothersome bush that needs to be pruned from time to time and largely ignored. Well, American boys anyway. In Europe one of the things that set the men apart (besides their flawless fashion sense, buttery accents, and "handbags") was their hair. These were men who actually had a hairstyle. Who used products other than 2 in 1 Dandruff Shampoo. Who cared what their hair looked like. On the con side, i'm pretty sure they spend more time on their hair than I do. 

The more time that passes I like my new haircut more and more. Plus my family's hair grows super fast. One thing is for sure though; if I ever get locked in a tower i'm going to have to find my own way down.

Beware of Portly Men Sliding Down Your Chimney,