Wednesday, April 1, 2009

The Tell-Tale Bangs

After about fifteen years of having long, straight, boring hair, I decided to get a trendy haircut. I started with a bob about a year ago, but my recalcitrant hair thought that such a style required too much maintenance. I couldn't even get both sides to curve inward, even with the liberal use of mousse, a curling iron, and hairspray. So as of late, I've decided to keep the bangs and grow the rest of my hair out.

As much as I love my severe little bangs, they decided to develop their own personality and rebel against me. If I have my wet hair wrapped in a towel for even a few minutes, my bangs think it is their duty to stick straight up for the remainder of the day. If I've been lying down (or, wonder of wonders, sleeping) for any measure of time, my bangs also gravitate toward the ceiling. It's as if they're revolting against the very idea of my being rested. We'd like to point out, lazy ass, they seem to hiss, that you've been sleeping on the job again.

My options are grim, at best. I can continue on, and try to peacefully coexist with my bangs. I can spend an hour a day trying to browbeat them into submission. I can also go through the lovely awkwardness of the growing-out phase, in the hopes that they will eventually rejoin the ranks of the rest of my hair. I have a feeling that I will instead reach the breaking point, shave my head, and just start over.

On that note, I must prepare to trim my daughter's bangs before they take over her face...

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