Is monday some sort of barber holiday or something? I tried to get a haircut today but literally every single barber shop and/or hair salon is closed in this town. Other than a Supercuts but the last time I went to a place like that was in the 8th grade when the lady went apeshit with some clippers and made me look like a five year old for a few months.
Come to think of it, that's when I stopped getting my hair cut for awhile. I had forgotten how big of a hair misfortune I was back in the day, until I found an old copy of alt.gen that had my picture in it.
Okay, first the haircut thing. After I was berated (honestly, it was apt, I probably would have mocked me too) for looking like my daddy lifts weights for a living, I decided that I wasn't going to deal with that shit anymore. I don't know if it was a consious decision or not, but I didn't get a haircut for a good three years after that. It's not that I have bad hair, I understand that a homosexual gentleman who cuts hair in a mall would kill his own father to bottle my color. Although I get the impression that he would have killed his dad for a milkshake or possibly an encouraging college rock song. It's just that once it got to a certain point it stopped being "messy artist" hair and spilled over into the "unkempt D&D nerd" hair territory. It also didn't help that I had a bit of a slouch and a beard that can only be described as "Celtic".
The facewarmer was pretty ridiculous, I don't recall how many times I tried to shave before I just chucked that notion in the shitterl. See, most of the general, day-to-day habits I have came from emulating television. Not out of intent, mind you, mostly out of necessity. If I took after my dad I would barely be able to understand how our economy is driven, or why there are so few native americans left, or spell. Although I'd probably be able to make a damn fine Grand Slam poached hard with extra bacon. I got off track; I had no idea how or why to shave, so I didn't. Normally this wouldn't matter. I'd just be a particularly hairy high schooler. Unfortunately, my beard wasn't really a beard, all the way. It left a couple centimeter wide gap of pristine, untouched, baby-soft skin directly under my chin. It looked like I had some obsessively powerful mutton chops. To sum up, I was not dirty, just sloppy.
Enter alt.gen. I still want to be a writer, but it bubbled forth around 10th or 11th grade, I don't remember exactly. alt.gen was a project I would love to refer to as ambitious, but unfortunately to be successful you have to take displaced high school and give them guidance, not full control over a magazine. Long story short, a cluster of ten or so nerds who I personally thought were individually talented were given a magazine to write for. Unfortunately we were also supposed to get subscriptions, market the magazine, blah blah blah. My point is that we took staff photos and I looked like a dork. I get regular haircuts now and seeing that picture made me want to get one today.
Goddamn I'm scattered. I need to get my shit together.
1 comment:
You know, I remember you were forced to get the haircut for the sissy school play you were in. Also you were told to shave...
... as sissy and retarded as that play was, at least I can be grateful that it forced you to removed an entire cocker spaniel from your head and face.
I don't know, I laugh pretty hard at everything in that magazine, except for Gemma's photos. We were all pretty stupid, but I think without those kinds of personality problems, it wouldn't have shaped how we act today... as far away from our old ways as humanly possible. Also bitter. But funny bitter.
Go get a hair cut soon though. Today's not Monday or Sunday.
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