The Great Hair Debate

This happens all the time. I can hear my friends moaning, "Here we go again."

I can never make up my mind about my hair.

I promised my best friend I would grow out my hair as long as hers so that whenever we go shopping, I can tie our braids together so she won't get lost.

She's the type that squeals, "Ooh, shiny pretty!" and disappears.

I find myself saying, "Hey, Myn, look at this neat shirt... Myn? Myndi?"

So my hair is finally reaching my shoulder blades. Well, half if it is. The hair in front is still just below my chin. Old layers from the first really really really short hair cut I got a few years ago.

It was great, except that I couldn't style it most of the time. We lived an hour away from everything, including work, and I couldn't use a blow dryer because it would cause a power outage (we were off grid and getting power from a generator at the time I had my last short haircut.)

It looked really good styled. It was horrible when it wasn't.

But long hair is its own misery, particularly mine. Because it's so fine, it breaks easily. Every shower, I have a fistful of hair in my hand from all the strands that break. I have to condition it every day because my snarls can withstand the most expensive detangler. And when it's dry, no amount of hairspray can keep it from getting static clingy and rising up like that electric ball they have you touch in grade school.

I can't really use most of the hair things I've bought for various reasons, such as my hair slips right out of them or they hurt my head, blah, blah, blah.

Id love to perm it, but that's ungodly expensive and it usually just causes more breakage anyway. I don't want to end up bald.

I love the way my hair looks when it's first blow dried and brushed. It never stays that way, though.

And then there's another reason, the one that keeps being rudely dragged to my attention.

A girl I know was recently sexually assaulted.

One thing that makes it easy to control a woman is her long hair.

I know, some are saying the chances of that happening to me are not that great.

Except it was right here in town.

Being a martial artist, this sort of thing is very important to me.

So this always brings up the question of : To chop or not to chop.

More to add to the debate: Long hair covers my ears and neck and keeps them warmer. But short hair fits better under hats and scarves are a great addition to my winter wardrobe. (Particularly the green one you made me, Myn.)

Long hair is better for theater because of the different styles you can do with it. But short hair fits better under wigs.

My husband likes it both ways. What he doesn't like is when it's in between. Not short, not long, just ... yuck.

What do I like best? I like how I look with long hair, but short hair makes me feel sassier. My hair feels healthier when it's short and I use less shampoo, conditioner, and time in the shower.

Of course, I'd get a kick out of growing it really long and then chopping it off to donate to charity, like Locks of Love or whatever it's called.

Okay, enough about my hair. What do you guys think? I'm going to sleep on it.

Holy Hopping Hamburgers!

Was it really November 2nd that I posted last? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!

Oh, yeah. It's a serious disease called overworked. Still trying to find a cure. Maybe it's karaoke.

I still don't have a real normal schedule. I'm still mostly working open to close most days of the week. There have been numerous personal problems abound amongst my coworkers and I'm doing my best to keep things running smoothly.

So I still haven't had much experience with the Alaska that everyone brags about.

Here's some of the odd things I've encountered.

A few days ago it was regularly in the 20s during the day. As we were going home from work, we could see the big electric billboard that displays the temp and the time and it said it was 18 degrees out.

The next day we wake up and the temperature has shot up about 20 degrees. It's been over 40 for a couple of days, just now starting to drop down to the mid 30s again.

My first thought was: Did I hibernate and miss winter? Is this the spring thaw? All the snow was melting and there was no longer any ice on the ground! This is a place that is not supposed to see dirt from November through April!

The other weird thing is the panhandlers. No one told me they were mean!

In Anchorage, I was approached by a lady who talked very fast, but I got the gist that she was asking for spare change. I took quick stock of my situation. My money was in my wallet in my back pocket under a thick jacket and a couple of shirts. There were several other individuals around, mostly guys, and there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell I was taking my wallet out when someone could just snatch it away and take off.

So I very politely told her I had nothing to give her and she moved on.

I guess I've mostly lived in places that were so large, you never run into the same person at random again.

A few hours later as we were coming out a restaurant, here comes that same panhandler. She's waving her fist in the air and shouting, "You didn't give me any change!" When she reaches me, she punches me in the arm and walks on.

Logan and I stared after with our jaws wagging. I couldn't believe the nerve of this woman.

So I know what most people are thinking. What good is your second degree black belt if you let mean little panhandlers get a whack at you?

Well, it was a sad punch, kind of like what you see little kids do to each other to annoy each other before they go running off, crying for mama.

When Logan and I finally started off down the street, I said, "I hope it made her feel better."

And I truly hope it did. At least I was able to do something for her, even if it was only to be a punching bag.

If I ever go to Anchorage again, I'll make sure I keep some change in my pocket.

My coworkers joked that I should have given her one of our $10 off coupons. You have to spend $50 to be able to use it.

I'm not that cold.

Thanksgiving was so strange without the family. We spent it with the boss man and his wife and a few other managers from work. It was good food, though I missed my mother's gravy over rice. And the company was friendly and cheerful enough, but I still nearly busted out in tears when a song my father sings came on the Dish Network music channel that was playing.

I missed Nino's huge bear hugs that lift me off the floor, discussing Tamora Pierce's books with Alex, swapping jokes with my cousins, playing guitar with my dad, making fun of my mother's failed science experiments in the kitchen (though I heard the gravy was fine this year. How boring is that?)

And I have to figure out what to do for a Christmas tree this year. I can't buy a potted one because I'd have to ship it to mom and dad's to be planted. Do I want to cut one down or buy a cheesy plastic tree? Are there Christmas tree farms here? Or is the whole state a Christmas tree farm?

It's getting toward midnight here, which means close to one in California. I want to say thank you to the people I don't know who are reading this blog. You're the reason why I'm posting tonight.

Yes, Mom, Dad, Myndi-bunny, Matthew, and Tiffy. I'm posting for you, too. But the nice comment left on the previous post by someone I've never met stoked my spirit for writing again.

Thank you, thank you, thank you readers. I appreciate you so much.

Karaoke, anyone?

Ah, the sweet, sultry sound...

... of zombies eating people in the background.

My hubby is watching a horror movie as I type.

I am soooooooo very tired. I'm looking for the light at the end of the tunnel, but I think my light is a tiny tea candle sitting in a very playful breeze.

My job was an absolute nightmare yesterday. I know we all talk about wanting to scream with frustration, throw our hands up in the air, and kiss it all goodbye, dodging the door before it hits us in our proverbial arse on the way out.

There were several moments when I was so overwhelmed, I couldn't focus to save my life. It was a total sensory meltdown as I have never experienced before. I am so amazed I didn't lose it and start sobbing all over the keyboard.

People warn you. They try to tell you what to expect so that you'll be ready for it. But sometimes, you just aren't.

I feel bad for asking lots of questions. Apparently, I didn't ask enough. On top of that, I had to take my car to the shop and squeeze in a huge shopping trip to Office Depot to get the supplies for the store.

I've learned things about Alaska in that time, things that no one thinks to mention because that's just the way it is there.

1) There's no such thing as overnight mail. The quickest mail will get anywhere to the lower 48 is two days.

2)We are an hour behind California, which means we are farther behind all the other stores across the lower 48, including the main hub in the midwest. So when someone says they need something done by noon, they mean by 9 or 10 am for us.

3)Everything is farther away from everything else here. A trip to Office Depot in California means a few blocks down the road. Or even a short jaunt next door (damn you, Rocklin). For us, everything that isn't Walmart, Fred Meyer, and a collection of small businesses is an hour's drive away. And that's when the traffic is good.

4)Speaking of traffic, here I thought we were getting away from congestion and irritated drivers. Lordy, drivers here are worse than anywhere else I've been. And the traffic getting into Anchorage is five times worse than Sacramento. Especially when it starts snowing and accidents start happening. J (a coworker) and I were stuck in a traffic jam that took us three hours to get through.

It's hard working with people in other states. At least they are all polite and helpful, but sometimes they give you lectures that are really a waste of air because there ain't shit you can do about what they want. I'm in Alaska, dude. You talk to the postman and make him wave his sparkly wand to get the paperwork to you in one day.

November and there's still not a lot of snow on the ground. There were snow flurries today, but everything melted before night fell.

I know this post makes it sound like Alaska's a real drag, but it's not. Really, if it weren't for the job, I wouldn't notice these things half as much as I do now.

I'm hooked on the karaoke bar, but I can't go because Logan and I have one car and I'm not going to force him to go with me. He'll only want to go if other people from work do, and right now no one else wants to. Sigh. Once we get another vehicle, I'm going alone. Maybe I'll turn it into a night job or something.

Dream a little dream, twirl in a circle, and flop on the bed. Sleep is bliss. Good night, y'all. Kisses!