As previously discussed, I have a lot of hair. Not only in length, but width; each strand of my hair has a larger circumference than the average grower’s locks. If the ’80s were to come back in style, I’d rock it hard … with minimal hairspray. And really, I can only hope they do. Big hair is my absolute jam, and in order to make up for the years of fighting my God-given talent (sheer follicle volume), I think it’s high time I cash in.
But first off, let’s start by discussing what could obviously be changed. I could cut my hair, sure. I could chop it off and be done with half of what this post complains about. In fact I have, several times. I’ve gone under the scissors and had my hair shortened to chin length and above. Only I still shed as much and my hair is equally thick, it’s just as prone to being in as many places as possible, only shorter. Also, I made a deal with Bo to not slice it until his return. Will I do it then? We will see. But the point is I’m not doing it now, on account of trying to be a good wife.
My Hair is Everywhere
One of the biggest side effects to having long hair is cleanup.
My hair clogs up the vacuum, it knots in the wheel of my office chair. It tangles into balls in the washer and dryer, which then gets deposited onto every fleecey material. Folding laundry often means picking off and disposing of hair knots. Tufts of hair have had to be removed from the vacuum brush via razor. I collect hair in the shower so as to not fill the drain. Which somehow still gets clogged. As does the sink. If I wanted, I could rub circles into the carpet and collect balls of my own hair; I had a friend who did this in high school. She enjoyed it as a somewhat disgusting hobby, and it cut down on vacuuming frequency – win-win.
A few times a week, I find a single strand of hair laid out – across my keyboard or over a drawer. Like I am trying to booby-trap myself. Hair strands are in the sheets and get shoved down to feet level every time I climb into bed.
Also during laundry, hairs become weaved into fabrics, sometimes quite deeply. Their most favorite piece of the wardrobe is socks. Basically there’s a 50% chance that every time I put on a sock, there will be a hair shoved right in. No big deal, you might think … if you have never had a hair in your sock. But if you have, you understand the absolute agony. Just because it’s mixed in with the other fabric fibers, does not make your hair part of the cloth itself. Which means it can move. So every time you step you are pulling on the hair. The ball of your foot or toe plants one end, and the other slides against your skin. Every single time you step.
Sometimes these hairs are in an ok position so you don’t feel them when getting dressed, only to have them slide into place later in the day. Generally when it’s most inappropriate to take off your shoe and fix it. Other times it happens with socks the exact color of your hair, blending it in perfectly. Another danger comes when the hair might wrap around your toe – have you seen that video of the baby whose skin was cut from a rogue hair tourniquet? That is my biggest fear for my future child. My hair’s already deep into any washing machine I’ve ever used; if the kid’s clothes come within 20 feet of it, anyone is at risk.