Safety Scissors

The other night, I got it into my head to give myself bangs. It struck me suddenly, and despite the fact that I have had bangs before that I hated (because they looked awful as my hair is almost curly - but too lazy. They end up doing a whole stupid, debonair-swoop thing...they look like this guy's mustache) I did it anyway.

My bangs are both an invitation to a gentlemanly conversation and a warning of vigorous fisticuffs


Now, I wouldn't mind having "Stache Bangs" at all if they did something cool like this:

That's the smile of a bitch who know she look good

But, mine don't. I kept them a secret for a day (with the awesome power of natural grease and bobby pins!) from my husband and then I did the Big Reveal. He didn't even see them. He's like that though.

Blind, I mean.

HA!

No, no he just doesn't notice stuff... like me

;_;

Hahaha, he just read that and said "Oh, Jesus, as if you relent from nagging long enough for me to forget you."

To which I replied:"Did you take out the garbage yet?"

A well oiled machine, my friends.

I was blond a while back and I decided I was a going to go red. I went into the bathroom a blond and emerged an hour later as a redhead. My husband was reading some WWII book on the couch (which is pretty much what he does) and I go

Me: So? What do you think?
Him: *deer in headlights*
M: Do you like it?
H: I do...like your new belt.
M: I've had this belt since you've known me.
H: I do like that you've altered your appearance in some manner.
M: My hair! It's red now. I was blond, you know *forever* and now I'm not.
H: Yes! Marvelous! Say, are we out of light bulbs?
M: A 6 foot tall Spanish woman could walk in here and play my part for a week and you'd be trying to put your finger on what's changed."
H: "I'm intrigued with your idea. Tell me more"

Back to present day - I point out my bangs and he stares at them silently for a minute and then says:

"Am I going to have to hide the "real scissors" from you now and just leave the safety scissors out?"

"I did use safety scissors."

"Yes, Sweetheart, yes, you did."

We are coming up on 6 years of marriage and we've only had one "real fight". We bicker, mind you, but we always end up having to leave the room part way through; we make each other laugh with our quips and are too proud to laugh in front of each other at the time. It's been working so far, so what the hell?

This is an actual photograph of our Big Fight. But I only had to tell him once, am I right?

The most recent little battle we are fighting is over our sleeping arrangement. For 7 years, we have slept on our respective sides. I get the good side (when laying on your back in bed - the good side is the left side. As you well know.) and he gets the OK side.

About a month ago, he started going to my side. He is basically twice my size (OK, I'm not actually 3'1" but it is close) and so my attempts to roll him over were futile. I decided to send him a warning and since we have no horse heads laying about, I went and bought a creepy owl statue and I hid it under the duvet on my side. With a note telling him to get the hell out. It worked. For one night.

The best 3 dollars I have ever spent


Now I have to threaten him (nag, really) until he gets his big oaffy self over to Crap-Side - where he is free to be king. I know marriage is about compromise but there are some things one cannot suffer gladly. We get along great all day and nothing is said of this war but it's there, my friends, it is.

Like the Toilet Paper Issue. Which I relented on - completely out of character. Toilet paper goes under the roll. It just does. Weirdo insists we put it over the roll. He would actually flip it over each time and then fold it into a triangle:

"Can't do that with an "Under The Roll" now, can you?".

Who the hell does that? I, of course, *had* to right it each time. Until he gave me a whole physics lesson about why his way is best. And as a partner, you sometimes have to let the other person do stuff their (stupid, wrong) way as it makes them happy. It totally sucks.

The haircut. Jesus, focus!

So my hair cut reminded me of when I did this stuff as a kid. Growing up, my 3 best friends were these brothers who lived across the street. We played Ninja Turtles and hit each other with various projectiles all day, every day.


You must always dress as Raphael or else you'll just end up looking like a tool


One day they came over and they all had buzz cuts. Woah. I had to have one too.

My hair was long-long-long. Down past my waist and I think my mom did in an effort to make me not be a boy anymore. I was indifferent to it but it seemed to matter to her. Probably because she never thought of how boss I would look with a buzz cut.

We go to their house and start to shave my head. I was 7. We took the clippers right down the middle, about 2 inches back when it dawned on me that my mom might freak out about this. Let's ease her into this, I told my friends.

I slink home a while later and am in the clear - the Mamacita hasn't noticed me yet. A good idea, I think, is to do a preemptive strike. I go to her in the kitchen and say:

"Look, Mom! New hair! I am growing new hair!"

She must have been an exceptionally suspicious woman because she responds by screaming

"What did you do!? Your head looks like a golf course!"

She was pretty pissed. I LOVED it. I was so excited to go to school. Everyone else thought it was wicked too. Not enough to actually do it themselves - but, still. I let it grow out a little and then I spiked it. I did this for 2 years.

Now, you may be imaging this in your head and something has probably occurred to you.


I HAD A MULLET.

Say what you will about Jeremy but he *was* good with his animals


Ha! This fact escaped me until one day when my friends came over and saw my school pictures.

"Ha! Dude, you had a mullet!?"
"What? No! I had, you know, short spikes in the front...with long hair in the back."
"That's exactly how you define a mullet. AHAHAHAAH! I am telling everyone we do know and will ever know about this."
"Dear God, I had a mullet. I need to sit down."

And yet after all this - I still sneak into the bathroom late at night to cut off the front of my hair. Why am I so seduced by the Siren Song of the Mullet? Is that what this is? A subconscious longing?

I think it is. I think there are a whole bunch of things I secretly love that are just waiting to be let free...