Maybe a Haircut

"What happened to your hair?" Maybe my girlfriend is trying to tell me something. Nothing. Nothing has happened to my hair in the last five weeks since I got it cut, anyway. Maybe it’s time for a haircut. I have also picked up on some subtle hints from my roommate. “Why don’t you go get a haircut,” he says to me. I don’t think it’s really that bad. Besides, it’s a pain in the butt to get a haircut. In my lifetime, I have gotten a total of three, maybe four and a half haircuts that I like. I say half, because recently they never seem to finish. The barger or hairstylist or whatever you call them cuts the top, then the sides, and gets half way down the back, and just stops. For some reason, he or she often seems to think my hair looks better if they leave it long in the back. By which I mean, I have had several different hairstylists, barbers, or whatever give me something that looks entirely too much like a mullet. I don’t want a mullet. Nobody that lives inside the city limits wants a mullet. So, maybe I’ll just let it grow. I’d rather have a big bushy animal on my head than a mullet. But then again, one time, in college, I didn’t cut it for a year, and my hair just expanded on top of my head. I would wear a hat all day, to tame the little animal on my head, and for about 3 hours in the evening it looked kind of good, er, decent. I thought about combing it, but that just seems to wake it up. I comb my hair, and it just grows in size and ceases to cooperate altogether, as if punishing me for bothering it. So I just use my hands. And lots of gel, that I later rub out cause I don’t like it when my hairs all stiff and stuff. I guess I’ll I just pretend that I want my hair to do that wavy thing in the front and that flattened lumpy thing in the back. Whatever. One of my roommates just bought this nose hair trimmer/ beard trimmer/ hair cutter thing. Maybe I could use that. Except, when he did that, he accidentally gave himself a buzz cut. Just goes to show you, don’t play with the nose hair trimmer/ hair cutter thing. Leave that to the professionals. And I’m pretty sure that my head is way to big and pale to ever look good with a buzz cut. I could start getting it cut short and spiking it up again, but my girlfriend doesn’t like it. I don’t like it much either. Every time I get my hair cut short, I jump when I look in the mirror. “Who’s the guy with the funny shaped head?” I can’t get used to the way my ears stick out and my cheeks look all puffy. Besides, no one out of high school spikes their hair up anymore. Well, except for actors and people who wear lots of black or break dance or something. It works for them, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t work for me. Besides, at the rate my hair grows, I’d have to get a hair cut every week and half. My hair is like a bushy version of that vine that takes over people’s houses while they are out one evening and kills their flowers and sometimes envelopes small animals if they move too slowly. I’m too busy to get a hair cut every couple weeks. Busy doing, you know, stuff. And getting haircuts sucks. You have to sit on the uncomfortable plastic chair, and smell the funny smelling hair chemicals that probably cause cancer, and sit really still while they pull on your ears, and then you’re brushing hair out of your clothes for the rest of the week. Who needs that? I need some serious motivation to get me to do that, and I don’t think my goofy looking hairdo is quite motivation enough yet. I think I’ll just buy some more gel.