hair

Earlier today I drove up to Lake Forest to get a haircut; a trim, really. A trim like the kind you give to a two-year-old. Hair is so odd. It truly is. You wear it every day, and it basically looks the same, but it's different, because you're different. And it keeps growing, long after your body stops.

At 7:36 a.m. my alarm buzzed, then again at 8:04 a.m. Despite it being above 30 degrees outside, I wake up daily with a cold nose. I have a heating pad that I use to warm my sheets if I'm alone in there. If there's another person, a roommate, a guy, a friend, whatever, it's not really necessary, because you're not really thinking about how you’re cold. You're talking about your day with your roommate, you're making out with that guy, and you're not sure what's happening with that friend. Friends are a supremely different beast. If they're girlfriends, then it's a pretty standard, hilarious sleepover because no one wants to sleep in the living room alone. If they're friends that are boys, then you might as well admit that there's some sort of sexual tension. So perhaps get out of that room. Tension bursts always. It just does, even if you're not attracted to each other, but especially if one friend is, while the other isn't. In the end it doesn't matter. None of it does. We're lonely beasts. We all are.

We are men. We are women. And we're allegedly adults. Charged. And. Trialed. We are. But all too often, we don't think of ourselves as such. No mortgages. Few set career tracts. An overwhelming vortex of men-children and women-children. In spite of our hair growing longer and longer every day, it's taking everyone even longer to become the people our parents hoped we would be.

But yeah, sure, I like my new haircut. It's different, but exactly the same.