It surprised me yesterday when Mouse was cutting my shaggy old head o’ hair and the GG actually made a mild protest. I mean, bottom line, I don’t let my husband tell me how long to wear my hair. Or some preacher claiming to channel Jesus Christ. Or anyone. The odd thing is that I spent my childhood wanting desperately to have beautiful long blonde hair. The Commander had a rather different idea. She regards short, pixie-type haircuts to be very elegant. And they are. On people who have personalities that fit that style. Me? Not so much. I was a pretty crazy mix of girly-girl and wild, athletic tomboy when I was a kid. I don’t actually think that combo is too bad for a girl but I’ve never actually thought about that before, so I’m not sure I can put it into words tonight and I guess it would be a whole ‘nother topic. Anyway, I have always felt somehow “larger” than close-cropped hair, if that makes any sense. And my hair is huge too! Wild and unruly, somehow worthy of something more than a pixie cut. Don’t take this to be some weird sort of diatribe against The Commander (who does read this blahg regularly). We all try to impose our own values upon our children, even those of us who think we don’t. And to be complete, there were things that were non-negotiable with my parents but hair was not one of them and The Comm held her breath and looked the other way when I grew my bushy unruly old dishwater blonde hair long and tried to lighten it with Sun-In. Anyone remember Sun-In? Trust me and don’t try it.

And so, I did frequently have long hair as a teenager and 20-something and on into my years as a young and then not-so-young mother. But then. I was wearing my too-long hair in a ponytail to keep it out of my way and that hairstyle had an annoying way of showing every single scrap of gray that I had. Which was quite a LOT. I tried to braid it. Yes, really. Nothing like trying to look like a 5-year-old when you are 50. It was not pretty. Finally one day, I had Mouse (who is a fantastic self-taught hair-cutter) cut it all off. It was pretty short when she was done but it was nowhere near pixie or that horrible helmet-like “bob” that so many women wear these days. What is up with that anyway? Those gals all look the same. My new, short(er) hair *bounced*. I loved how I looked (yes, younger). There was gray but a lot of blonde still showed. And I loved how it felt when I walked. Swinging around and bouncing up and down. I wash it every morning and let it dry as I take my walk. I feel beautiful and I am beautiful. But I am not any more beautiful than you. Or you or you or you.

Goodnight, sayonara, ciao bambino,
Kayak Woman

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