Platinum Blond Buzz Cut

My dad called me today. He's fun. I like him. We were both driving north on the highway. Different states, and roads, but hey it was still cool. Thinking of my dad reminded me of when I was little. Aw, I was so cute. I guess I should start at the beginning. July 24, I "escaped the womb" as one of my friends so eloquently told me the other day at my birthday party. I was born in a hospital in Bryan, Texas. I'm the oldest of two girls. My sister, Leanne, is eleven months and two weeks younger than I am. Which means we are "irish twins." And ever since she was born, for the two weeks we are the same age, she never stops reminding me. She just turned 23 and I just turned 24, but for those couple of days, she still chirped in my ear that we were the same age. Its amazing that siblings can still irritate while they are so far away.

The first thing my mom talks about when I was a wee child was the fact that I was bald as a baby. Oye vay, you should see the pictures. Talk about humiliating. But I think God got the last laugh because now I have a huge mass of curls on my head. I try to keep them tamed, but really, they have a mind of their own. So growing up, my mother never let me cut my hair. I think it was because she was worried it might not grow back if I cut it off. Therein began the hair battle. I wanted to chop it off every chance I got, meanwhile, Mom insisted that I didn't. This lasted till about high school, when I think I wore her down and she let me make the decision about how I wanted my hair cut. So I would get it cut, shorter and shorter. So for about the first two years of high school, I looked like a cherub that you see in old paintings. You know, the ones holding garland or smiling at random clouds. They just have ringlets. That was me. And then, I thought, hey, I kind of look like a 12 year old boy, I think I'm going to change my look. So I got my strangest haircut ever. My dad goes to a barber shop to get his haircut, so I tagged along with him. He got his hair done, and then I plopped down in the chair. The barber looked at me and I said, please cut it off. I walked in with a crop of curls and then walked out with a buzz cut. I then dyed what little hair I had left platinum blond. I've never seen a look like the one my mom gave me when I walked into the room with my new 'do. It was a mixture of "why?" and "clearly my oldest daughter has lost her mind."

Sheesh, the things we do when we are young.