blonde on blonde.

In one of my first college freshman classes, we were asked to make a list of things that we were good at, me, being who I am, would only allow myself to list one: dying my hair. I mean, I am. This was coming off the heels of a year long exploration and foray into hair coloring that included streaks of pink and blue along with a half black/half blonde thing I had going on for a while (kinda Ricki Lake Tracy Turnblad from Hairspray, now that I think about it). I finally settled on the shade of blonde I've been using for about 10 years now. Well, except for that crisis phase where I dyed it brown. Oh, you didn't remember it? Good.
Up until about a year ago, I've worn my hair short. I distinctly remember being on the playground in elementary school and seeing the shadow of my pony tail swinging behind me and all the sudden became really aware of how strange and silly it looked and went home that day to ask my mom to take me to cut it off. (I even think I showed her a picture of Donna Martin from 90210 as a reference). The last couple of years, I've been growing it out as a sort of slow transformation. It started as an experiment, but has taken so fucking long it is most definitely a commitment. However, there are moments like when I'm washing it or the windows are down in my car when I realize just how long it's gotten and when I really get into it, I think about who I was when I decided to start letting it grow. It's become this way to measure change in my life. The color is still the same, but so many things have changed.
There have been several conversations about my hair in the last few months. Yes! Conversations. If I haven't seen you in a while, you're gonna tell me how long it is. If I say my hair looks like shit, you're gonna tell me that I have the best hair ever. It's true, at least that's what you say. It really is such a huge part of my identity and I didn't realize how much of a reflection and expression of who I am currently I really put into my hair. From the streaks to the hair boners (my ponies when it was short) to the brown phase to the commitment to L'Oreal Mega Blondes Lightest Ivory (I just gave you my secret) to ridiculous short bed head I rocked for so long to the long locks I'm now so proud of. All little representations of who I was on the inside and sometimes just who I wanted to be.

I tried to tie it all together with things that play in my head when I think about my hair like that tragic scene in All the Real Girls when my love, Paul Schneider tells that bitch Zooey, "Why don't you put your fucking hair back on and come back, just come on back."
But, this one is the most appropriate anyways.