Happy Wednesday! It is such a beautiful day today in the 6-1-2, currently 78 degrees and not a cloud in sight.. err well at least from what I can see from the windows in front of me. I rolled into work (literally speaking, I'm an avid roller blade-r) and had a hard time walking in the doors because I knew my long nine hour day is just beginning. I am so amped on this amazing weather because it has been 100 degrees these past two days and I can finally BREATHE when I'm outside for once. I'm not much of a fan of the heat, but I'm not one to complain when it's here. For one, I'll remind you, I live in MinneSNOWta. It's cold here basically 8 months out of the year. It absolutely pains me when Minnesotans complain about how cold, and how freezing, and snowing, and icy, and yada yada yada about how awful this place is. Then the minute it's above 70 degrees, people are like "Oh lordy, it's SO hot. I'm having a heat-wave. I'm dehydrated. I need a pool, water, lake, an ocean, blah, blah, blah." I just want to say well: "WHY DO YOU LIVE HERE?" I'll be honest- I'm not much too keen on the cold, but I love my university (Go Gophers!) and this city a lot, so I don't complain. Besides people, if you're so concerned with how warm it is, wait 3 months and you'll have your winter jacket ready to be picked up at the dry cleaners. Guaranteed.
Though I must say, I do have one solo complaint for this humid weather. My hair. For those who I have met me, you know my hair is unlike anyone else you've met. It's brown. Haha, well I am brunette but my hair is super curly. And I mean not just really, really, really curly but very thick as well. It's a hot mess. With humidity in the mix, my hair likes to do it's own thing- aka blow up like an afro. So cute, right? NOT. I love to hate it, but at the same time I hate to love it. It's just our relationship. Currently, I am growing my hair out (it's about shoulder length) and this will probably take me a couple years. My hair grows SO slow. There was only one other time when I can recall having short hair and that story is one that I will never forget. I was probably about 10 years old and my cousin was having a hotel/pool party (which was the cool type of party to have when you were in elementary school, duh). I recall it was a friends and family get-together so my mom got my siblings and me a hotel room for the weekend along with the rest of our extended family. Just like any crazy, over-exuberant child at the mere age of 10, I lived for going swimming and anything with water. My cousins and I stayed in that pool all weekend and only left to eat, pee (er, maybe not even), or whenever our parents could rally us all together for bedtime. Now at this point in my life, my hair was even curlier than what it is today because it was virgin hair (and in more than one way). Also, I was in that stage in between the little kid age and puberty so I was becoming more independent and didn't want my mom to do a-nay-thing for me. I did my own hair, I picked out my own clothes, I made my own decisions; it was all ME! When my mother finally did drag me out of the pool, she told me I needed to shower. And I did, but just not a very good job of it. Since my hair was so extremely curly, brushing through it was very difficult unless someone else did it for me. Obviously, that wasn't going to be happening. Being the over-caffeinated (parties=soda) and now overly exhausted young human being I was, I immediately passed out after my shower with little to no attempt on brushing through my still chlorinated hair. Idea mala (I like to whip out Spanglish at many random times, the story behind that will come another time). I didn't think much of it the next day as we packed up our bags to go to home but little did I know, something was brewing in the back of my head and it wasn't pretty. That little something was a knot. This little knot, turned into a really big knot over the course of time unfortunately. Being in my weird "I do what I want stage" my mother had no idea, I didn't really have any either because I wore my hair the same every single day: tied back, in a ponytail. A couple months passed and it was beginning to be that time for... (dun, dun, dun) A haircut. My mom scheduled an appointment for my younger sister and me at a nice salon downtown. One of her friends, Kathy, from high school worked as a hair stylist there and little did she know this haircut was probably going to be one of the worst she's ever endeavored. So the shampooing and conditioning went the same and fine as always but when the cutting began, that's a whole different story. Kathy found the little knot which now had transpired into this larger more like 4 inch long knot growing in the back of my head. Startled, she asked me, "Alyce, what is this?!" I asked in shock, "what are you talking about?" My mother came around the back of my head and shouted, "Alyce! What have you been doing to your hair?! There's a massive knot in the back!" My eyes were instantaneously wide, I had no idea what sort of trouble I was getting myself into. There goes my "I do what I want" way of life out the window. Well since this knot was so large and in charge, there was only one thing Kathy could do: cut it. And, cutting this gigantic knot meant I would have to cut the rest of my long curly hair to match the absence of my benign hair tumor. It was such a sad day. Not only did my mother yell at me for not "doing what I want" in the "correct fashion" but now I had hair that was just a shy centimeter below my ears. I hated it. SO much. But I maintained my "I do what I want" mentality and told all my friends the next day how I've always wanted short hair and of course everyone believed me. And, for those who knew the truth (aka my mother), the story never got old for her and she went on to tell everyone we saw for the next few months exactly why my hair was so short. Needless to say, I spent the next 10 years or so growing it out since my hair follicles just like to do their own thing. It was the longest it's ever been last year until I had it cut short-er (not as short as you know, that one time). Now, I'll probably be spending the next ten years waiting for my hair to get to where I want it to be. Until next time...
---Alyce
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