My Hair is a Dragon (aka My Shameful Daily Battle)

I am a female.

This means that looking presentable for daily life is a constant uphill battle full of pain, drama, frustration, and the occasional nose bleed.

For years, I have prided myself as a "minimalist" (most people call this "tomboy" or "just not caring"): I didn't wear make-up, I was good with jeans plus t-shirts for my regular circuit, and you'd NEVER catch me saying something like, "OH NO! THIS doesn't MATCH!"


This mostly holds true to this day. I used to laugh at the girls who make emergency application of this-and-that in the car on the way to school/work/wherever, and I would give myself a little internal high-five for my apparent immunity to all the weird things most girls do concerning their appearance. 

HOWEVER, I have recently learned that if you suppress that instinctual feminine urge to primp and prepare, the pressure will seep out in other weird areas of your life...

And when I got my hair cut short about a year and a half ago, thinking short hair must mean "less hair, less work", I was introduced to the wonderful world of...HAIR CARE! OHMAHGAH!

EVERY MORNING for me is a battle of epic proportions between myself and my crazy, completely uncooperative mop of chestnut mess. The way I see it, my hair is a big, mother-flippin' DRAGON that must be slain or violently tamed within a time-window of twenty minutes...

The dragon is also a clever foe, being able to take on multiple forms, each one requiring a different weapon and strategy, and ZERO predictability. The most common of these formidable nemeses are the follwing:

This one I call "The Roger Daltrey":

This next one I call the "One Side Sleeper":

And last but certainly not least, "The Cobain":

Now, there are some days in which I heroically conquer the Dragon with ease and confidence! This is when I'm pretty sure my hair is shooting out rainbows and lasers because of its sheer excellence...

And then there are some days that involve a humiliating display of failure and murderous rage. These are the days in which I fight the urge to pull a Britney on everyone and risk exposing my "Kingdom of the Crystal Skull"-esque skull...

But most days I have a Winona Ryder-on-crystal-meth look that, I must admit, has grown on me...

In the worst possible cases in which the Dragon defeats me and I slink away from the bathroom mirror in shame, I always have the hat or hood option, the latter being my personal preference because I have an excuse to practice my Sith Lord powers...

Yes, surely femininity has its price. But seriously: how many guys out there can honestly say they fight the cosmetology-equivalent of a mythical beast every morning?


...That's what I thought.

- The JSP