My Real Life

You know the saying “The grass is always greener on the other side?” Well, I’ve always wanted curly hair. However, it was not my lot in life.

I was born with pin straight hair.

My Mom would try to curl the ends to make it more…interesting, but to no avail.

Look at my face. I’m thinking of ways to curl my hair, even at the tender age of two.

 My friend, Snuffleupagus and I spent many hours together, contemplating how I would look with curls.

Eventually, Mom  just looped it up in an effort to contain it’s thick straightness.

It got longer and longer. Here I am, four years old at the Bicentennial celebration. Look how colonial. Look how long and straight the hair.

It was fairly soon after that picture that I was watching Sesame Street in my basement and decided to make a nest for Big Bird. I had no straw handy, so I used the next best thing. My hair. Only one side of it, though. Lopped a braid right off, right above my ear.

 My Mom…not happy.

Eventually, however, I became a teenager and gained control over my straight locks. I spent the summer after eighth grade at my Grandma’s in Ohio. Grandma, you may remember, was a beautician.

Three bottles of perm solution later, voila! I had the hair I had always wanted.

That curly hair made me feel wild.

(We can talk about the clothes in this picture later. I loved that yellow shirt with the black paint splatter. And how about those cuffed jeans? Oh, the 80’s…how I miss you.)

However, a perm must be maintained.

I didn’t have the cash to keep reperming, and I also worried that my hair would start to fall out if I kept frying it with perm solution. So, after a fabulous freshman year with my awesome hair, I began to let it grow out.

After four years, I was still growing it out.

I still had the curls at the senior prom.

However, by graduation, it was almost out and Michaela (who also is of the straight hair variety) had more of a wave than I did.

By freshman year in college, I was back on the straight and narrow.

While we’re at it, how about this fancy pose?

 What do you think I was thinking about? I wish I knew. It’s quite the pensive pose.

So, after all this, you’d think that the lesson I was trying to impart was, be happy with what you have. However, after seeing the perm pictures again, I’m itching for the curls. I’m 37.

I think it’s time to be wild and free again.

At least with my hair.

Gotta go heat up the curlers.