My hair hates me....

Yes - this IS a post about my hair.  YES, I *do* have more important things to blog about....such as the post that posted last week and was then deleted (thank you to those who did see and responded and to those that would have responded had you seen it - I heart you all!);

Or I could post about the fact that I scheduled not one, but TWO, college visits during Man-Child's Spring Break and how that is wigging me out completely (seriously?  Who gave him permission to be this old????);

(Appalachian State and North Carolina State, if you are wondering.  Yes, there will be others that we will be looking at - as long as they have a football team that he could maybe play for someday.)

Or I could post about the negligence of the government (either side; left or right.  About now they are both ticking me off); or about world peace; or the homeless; or the shameful state that America is in right now;

Or about the fact that I have practically a whole post written in my head that needs to get put out NOW before I forget about it and I can't because Hubby has decided RIGHT THIS SECOND is the perfect time to come out here and have an idle random chat - despite the fact that I've been home - and ignored, I might add - for hours.

So anyway....here we are talking about....

Wait.  What were we talking about??

Oh yeah....my hair.

My hair hates me.  I've known this for years but have only recently acknowledged it.

I realize it can't easy to be my hair.  My hair is tortured on a near-daily basis.

It is constantly being processed, over-producted (yes, that IS a word spellcheck! And for that matter spellcheck is ALSO a word!) dyed, dried, flat-ironed, curled, yelled at and cursed....you name it and I've probably done it to my hair.

BUT to be fair my hair has done it's own little number on ME.

When I was small it was kind of straight - with just a hint of a wave in it.  And many, many cowlicks; which was totally my mother's problem as I really didn't care at that point.

As I got older it got a bit wavier - which was actually a blessing because it would more or less do what I wanted it to with minimal torture, plus it was the style - still with those cowlicks though.

Then?

Then, all of a sudden, out of NOWHERE (sometime after Man-Child was born....so this is HIS fault!) my hair decided that it wanted to be curly with the added bonus of cowlicks.

Now to be fair - I LOVE curls....on other women.  Whose hair is cut for curls.  My hair?  My hair is NOT cut for curls and hasn't been for years.

So I'm in the process of growing it out - you know, so when I do decide to rock the curls my hair doesn't resemble a giant triangle being perched on my head.

Because, despite the fact that I don't feel curls are a professional look (on me), I have come to realize that, especially in the summer, it is far easier to just let my hair "be" rather than fight it.

Truth be told?  I spend more time fighting with my hair in the mornings than I do having my coffee, reading blogs, showering, putting on my makeup, deciding what shoes to wear (which totally dictates what outfit I'm wearing - which, of course, necessitates an entire dialog in my head about what the upcoming day might bring), brushing my teeth, waking other members of the household, finding accessories to go with said outfit/shoes, and actually getting out the door, etc. all put together.

But, if I just rocked the curls, the hair could probably be done in about five to ten minutes flat.

The problem is growing it out - especially since what I am envisioning is much longer than I've had my hair in eons.

Well, let's talk (whispers) split ends.  I have many.  Which makes the hair frizzy - even after over-producting and straightening, curling, etc.  The conventional wisdom would be to cut it.  BUT, if I cut it now to remove all the split ends, and summer; with it's inevitable humidity, looming, I will have a MAJOR triangle perched on my head.  If I wait till it is longer to trim there will be even split ends, I think, because they will have become longer and more fragile.

I'm doomed, I tell you!  Doomed!

It's truly a damned if you and a damned if you don't scenario.