Sunday, May 29, 2016
It might be time for another haircut.
My hair has grown out quite a bit this past year. It's been through a lot. It grew its first centimeter at our first national competition where we won, not third, not second, but thirteenth place. It was an inch longer when I first found out Zayn had left One Direction and thought I would never get over the heartbreak. It grew an inch and a half for my first and only prom where I cried hours before the dance because I hated my dress and I was going alone. It had reached 2 inches when I graduated high school where I waved goodbye to my teachers one last time and realized that I wouldn't be able to relate to movies about high school anymore. It had grown a good 4 inches when I went to my last One Direction concert ever where I sobbed knowing this would be the last time I'd see them perform WMYB. It was finally touching my chest when I went to Stoddard Park where I met my biggest idol, Casey Neistat, and was able to tell him how much his videos meant to me. It was long enough for me to put it in a pony without pieces falling out for my 18th birthday where it finally sank in that I'd be moving to New York in 3 weeks. I was able to properly flip my hair when I met Fall Out Boy and Pete Wentz squeezed my waist when D aggressively told them we LOVED their music. No. 3 was able to brush through it like he used to when he gave me a hug at the last party of the summer where I blacked out for the first time and woke up the next morning faced down next to my bed. It didn't look stupid in a bun when I got on the plane that'd move me 2000 miles away from home. I accidentally dunked my hair in a Solo cup full of beer at my first frat party where I learned that you should never touch the jungle juice. It got drenched in fake blood when I decided to be a vampire for Halloween and learned that just being buzzed at a frat party isn't gonna cut it; turn up harder, even if it means filling a water bottle with vodka to drink in the Uber. I curled it for the first time in months when I watched the loml walk out of our last anthropology class without saying a word or ever noticing me. I put it up in a chignon when I was interviewed to become a student ambassador where I was rejected hours later. It constantly got caught in my hot pink Mickey ears when DAM MAD reunited in the new year at Disneyland. I wanted to pull my hair out when I saw my semester grades and had seen that I was .08 under the GPA requirement to keep my scholarship. It was in a top knot after having not washed it for several days when I realized that when your best friends get boyfriends, you'll only ever be second best in their eyes. I realized for the first time that your hair can freeze given that it's cold enough outside during my first blizzard in years. My hair had grown a prime 7 inches when we got our first snow day of the semester and I realized I had the best suite mates ever while playing a game of spoons. Must've only grown a millimeter when I wanted to take back that last statement because my roommate is the most disgusting person I have ever met. My hair stuck to my sticky and sweaty skin while my friends and I danced the night away at the trashiest bar in town. It had reached 9 inches when the loml posted in our class's Facebook page that he was selling books that I so happen to need for next semester. I was sure to soak my hair in perfume when I met up with him to buy the books where we had the most basic conversation ever and the last thing spoken was "see ya around." Spoiler: I never saw him around after that. My hair stuck to my cheeks when I cried myself to sleep one night when I realized I gained 17 pounds since I started college. I straightened my hair for no reason when I interviewed to become a student ambassador AGAIN, and was rejected AGAIN. My hair was in a pony for most of the week that I was moving out and was crying in between folding clothes at the thought of being without my suite mates for 4 months. My hair was caught in my glasses when I hugged each suite mate goodbye for the summer. It was a filthy grease ball when I got my final grades and jumped for joy because I had made a .8 improvement with my GPA and wasn't on probation for my scholarship anymore. I had finally washed it before getting on the plane to my first trip to Rome. It was 10 inches grown when it blew in the wind while we were throwing coins into the Trevi Fountain where I realized that I never wanted to come home, despite missing my parents like crazy. It was a kinky mess when I finally got home to hug my dogs after not seeing them for 4 months. I had gotten some hair in my mouth when I took my first sip of Brew Tea in a long time and looked back on my past year. I measured my hair today. It's grown 10 and a half inches since I cut it last February. But recounting on everything that's happened since then, it seems that my hair isn't the only thing that's grown.