Monday, March 31, 2008

Why I Hate My Hair



(Ugh...I'm embarrassed to even show these. Oh, well. Think of them as evidence.)

The other day, when I visited my grandmother, my uncle called to tell Granny that he wanted her to participate in a "Five Generations" picture. This picture included her, as she is the matriarch of my Mom's side of the family. My uncle told my Granny of this decision on the same day he decided to have the picture taken. With a few minutes to spare, she went into her little bathroom and started curling her hair. I decided to end my visit before the picture was taken, so I went into her bathroom to say good-bye.

On top of her head sat four cute little curls. Each one had been tended with the utmost care. She had (and still has...who am I kidding), without a doubt, the thinnest head of hair I have ever seen. I realized, at that moment, that my follicles were a gift of genetics. I also realized that I, too, would be wrestling with the curlers in my old age in an attempt to create a full head of hair. I fear, however, that my situation will be much worse than hers when I am her age.

I absolutely hate my hair. Why do I hate my hair? In a Shakespearean bout of frustration, let me count the ways:

1. My hair is thin. Let me rephrase that. My hair is EXTREMELY thin. It is so thin that it can be curled, flat ironed or dried within seconds. If I sat with wet hair for more than 20 minutes, my hair would be a completely frazzled mess of thinness, similar to a plate of linguine from Caruso's that you know you shouldn't have had (let's be honest here...one should never eat at Caruso's). My hair is so thin that I have taken hairstyles to various hairstylists to hear them say, "Oh, Dana...you can't do that. That would never work with your hair!" This ponytail explains it all:



2. My hair is fine. No, I'm not talking about "Will-Smith-Dang-You-Fine-Girl" fine, I am talking about the fact that my hair is so fine that the people who invented fiber optic cables are looking into my hair as a lightweight option to their current model. The Dana Farr Cable might be heading to your home soon, carrying with it all sorts of HDTV goodness.

3. My hair is greasy. And yet, my hair is also dry. Can someone explain to me how this happens? How does hair fluff out into dry tufts of nothingness, and then at the same time form greasy strings? Can anyone explain this phenomena to me? I usually find that even on a "good hair day" I'll spend time on my hair, get it just the way I want it...and then look in the mirror later to find that it looks terrible. It hangs in fluffy, odd little strands. They look like individual pencils, writing out disaster.

4. The right side. It won't curl in when I try to curl it under. It won't curl out when I try to curl it out. The right side of my hair read all of those history books I endured for my Master's Degree program and changed its democracy-loving ways. The right side of my hair has adopted Bolshevism, and my left side's policy of Containment isn't helping (because, really - did "Containment" ever work?).

Now, I realize that I should be thankful for my hair. Any hair is better than no hair at all. My father-in-law, uncles, and many of my cousins may not appreciate my little tirade. I do understand this. But, I also realize that ranting about it makes me feel better, and in an American, "do what feels right" culture, it just feels good to rant and rave about my hair.

Besides, that's better than being depressed about job situations...right?

Right?

(My apologies to my lovely, wonderful, tenderhearted, and amazing Granny. Her hair is much better-looking than mine - I just know that I had to get this thin hair from somewhere.)

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

You can't always get what you want.

(I wanted Jeremy to smile for this picture. I didn't get what I wanted.)


So, I've been told (via Mick Jagger) that you can't always get what you want. How true is that?

Before I further pontificate on the proverbial, enlightened words of the Rolling Stones, I think I should add that Jeremy and I got the answers to one of our questions. And that answer was a big, fat, "no." Jeremy's shot at a local job didn't work out.

After a day of being angry, wondering when our turn would come, and pretty much wanting to cry, I decided that there is nothing that I can do that would change this situation. God will give us what we need when we need it. I'm not always going to get the happy ending I want or think I deserve just because I want or think I deserve it. Life is difficult, and I should be thankful for what takes away from its aggravations.

I realize that some of what I say is the same stuff over and over again, but I think I have spiritual ADD at times (I probably have real ADD - so why not spiritual ADD?), and I need to retrace my steps often.

...and that's my public service announcement for today. Stay tuned for my future blog, "Why I Hate My Hair." (I'm not kidding...I need to lighten this puppy up.)

Friday, March 7, 2008

Growing Impatience

Jacob had to wait seven years for Rachael, and then had to wait seven more years. I know women whose husbands left for Iraq. They sat at home, kept busy, made the most of their lives, and waited for their husbands to return. My wonderful, beautiful, best friend, Kathi, has a story that makes me stand in awe of her patience and love. Simply put, people with patience are amazing.

I hear patience is a virtue. I wonder what it must be like to be so virtuous.

I wrote the blog on March 1st (see below) in a good mood. It was a warm day. I was looking forward to a happy spring with some hopeful answers.

Today, it is cold. There is a threat of snow. The high might reach the upper 30's, if we are lucky. Jack Frost's hand has slapped me across the face and drained me of my optimisim. I sit at my computer and wonder - where are our answers?

It has been two weeks, and we still haven't had any of the answers that we have been seeking. I don't know if we will sell this condo, I don't know if Jeremy will get a job in Hall County (or goodness, just at least in a county that touches Hall- that would be something!), and I don't know if any of our other questions will be answered. I am the kind of person who would rather hear an answer than to be stuck in limbo. I guess it's the former journalist in me that has molded my persona into a constant seeker of answers.

What I do know is that I am impatient, that it is March 8th, and I am worried about things that I shouldn't be worried about at all.

My worrying is a large flaw - a crutch that weakens my faith. Why do I worry? Why can't I trust God to give Jeremy that job that we so desprately desire? Why do I sit around and fret about the things that I cannot change?

From now on, I need to focus on the things I can change. I can be a better wife, daughter, sister, friend, and teacher. I can take my focus off of worrying, and focus on trusting God. I can take my focus off of the petty things in life that will not matter in ten years.

Maybe then, I can take away the seeds of impatience and replace them with faith, hope, and love.

(By the way, the title is a pun...Impatiens are flowers. Ha ha.)

Saturday, March 1, 2008

A Spring in my Step

"Again and again, the light brings me life."
- Photosynthesis, 2002.

Can you feel it?

That little bit of change is stirring the air. There are plants budding. The stores are switching their wardrobe selections. Heck, the tree at Rudolph's is already ready blooming fantastically, as if someone forgot to tell it when to make its debut.

I can sense the change of Spring all around me.

This is one of my favorite times of the year. Winter is taking its final bow. The days of cold, harsh winds, dry skin, static electricity, and itchy sweaters are numbered. The days of happy feet (mine don't look so happy at the moment) in Chacos, flowers, days spent outside, shorts, tank tops, and windows rolled down are coming.

I can hardly wait.

This Spring, there are so many decisions for Jeremy and I to make, and there are so many questions that we would like to have answered. Will Jeremy get a job closer to home? Will we finally purchase that elusive house? Will we be able to sell our condo? What is Jeremy going to get me for my birthday (okay...that's not really an important question)? There are so many other questions and decisions to consider, and I hope this is the year we can work out a few answers.

There is a renewing feeling that comes with the smell of Daffodils. The leaves being born around me lighten my spirit. Spring symbolizes rebirth and change, and I hope and pray that this is the Spring that brings God-centered changes to our lives.