Sunday, August 26, 2012

An Inconvenient Truth



Big news….I got a haircut this week, only cost me $20 too (tip included). For the most part I was satisfied with the look and value. This is not common.

I’ve never really been a fan of haircuts. Since middle school, I can count on one hand the number of “successful” haircuts I have received. It my surprise you that I don’t believe this falls on the shoulders of my aspiring ProCuts hair stylists, or necessarily on my hair. For a long time my lack of satisfactory haircuts was solely the result of the “style” of haircut I desired. Against seemingly unanimous advice, I decided to stick with the “shaggy haired highschooler” look past it’s expiration date, and well into my early 20’s. Further complicating the problem was my mother’s (and eventually my) insistence to make sure that I got my money’s worth with each cut. Scared of making a superfluous purchase I routinely asked for a more than necessary amount of hair to be taken off. The result was as an awkward look that made me appear as if I was attempting to emulate a blond Harry Potter.






Now that I have progressed out of the shaggy hair phase, I have become firmly entrenched in the professional haircut realm…, which brings me to the story at hand. As previously mentioned, I was mostly satisfied with my most recent cut. However, my attempt to get a more professional look comes with an unfortunate drawback, I immediately look significantly younger.

The more I think about it though, this isn’t an issue exclusive to yours truly. Most of the time hair is mentioned women immediately come to mind. In true feminist fashion their need for relative equality in the world of hair has resulted in reverse sexism. By hogging the lions share of attention females have masked an inconvenient truth. Haircuts are most important for men. Women get their haircut and 99% of the time men don’t care and 100% of the time can’t tell the difference. This isn't the case for men, even the legally blind can tell a difference and women always care. I feel like most guys go into a potential haircut just trying to avoid disaster. More importantly though for some reason any time a boy (or man if you fancy yourself as such) cuts his hair he falls prey to a follicle Benjamin Button complex, and instantly appears 10 years old.  This is good news for those rapidly approaching a mid-life crisis. But for a 26-year-old guy who still gets carded at rated “R” movies, looking younger is not positive, nor needed. This aging phenomenon happens to my friends, my brothers even my Dad. I think it’s all of the precise edges and straight lines that cause us to reverse our age. All I know is that I leave the barber expecting my mom to remind me to "smile big" for school pictures at Anderson Elementary.

Regardless of the reasons, the truth remains all haircuts initially suck for guys. Now within a week, the hair starts to grow and it stops looking like the barber used a protractor. At this point my relative age is restored, and I stop wondering how I did on my latest spelling test.

Think about it though, women don’t face this dilemma. Now I’m not going to pretend to know anything about feminine hairstyles (well besides my hatred of pronounced bangs, but we’ll save that for another post). Layering, coloring, roots, extensions.....who cares? One thing I am positive of is that short of a dramatic style change, a female’s apparent age (and male's interest) isn’t altered. Lucky them. Does this make up for their burden of childbirth? No, but is it close? Absolutely. 

Sunday, August 19, 2012

To New Beginnings...


I guess the most socially appropriate way to start my blog is to catch my would be avid followers up on my life….so, Mom, here it goes. I used to live in your house, but 5 months ago I grew up, got a job, spread my wings and moved 6 miles north. So in case you're wondering, your middle son is an up and coming, single, 26-year-old pricing analyst, who currently resides alone in an apartment on the west side of McKinney.

I’ve included a picture for your convenience.



Now that that’s over…

Living alone (and spending the majority of my time alone) is an extremely interesting experience. There are times where I can go literally days without any meaningful face-to-face interaction. This was a bit of an adjustment at first. By and large I enjoy social interaction, but I've always needed time alone to "recharge the batteries" However, when alone is your only option, you tend to crave some sense of human communication.  Throughout the past couple of months I have been surprised to discover that what I miss most about living with roommates (parents included) are the commonplace conversations about things that honestly don’t matter. Not earth shattering discussions on the meaning of life, but insignificant (but true) banter about the trivial.

Here are some recent examples..

 A few weeks ago, within earshot, my next-door cubicle neighbor started a conversation with a co-worker by mentioning that she walked her cat on a leash. I immediately dropped what I was doing and moved in for a better listen. I arrived just in time to hear her finish the story by revealing that due to feline health concerns she now transports her cat around her neighborhood using a stroller.

I workout at around 6 am a few mornings a week. Well recently, I was making the trek from the shower across the expanse of the locker room at my gym, when I was lucky enough to see a 65-year-old man squeezing into a neon orange man thong in preparation for his workout.

See it’s times like these, when I want to come home and mock these individuals for hours on end. Or when I desire to spend an unnecessary amount of time discussing the what if's and why's of my "cat lady coworker" & "mystery man thong" interactions that I truly wish I didn’t live alone…so I thought, what a great idea for a blog.

In reality, I’ve started it for a few other reasons as well:

(1) I’m of the (correct) opinion that my general outlook, ideas and musings are worthwhile.
(2) I believe that even though I haven’t recently become married, moved to an exotic location or announced the impending birth of my first child, people might actually be curious about my life, and what I have to say. 
(3) I truly hope that this blog becomes famous and I can quit my day job.

What follows will most likely be a little bit of everything: meaningless observations, life updates, sarcastic remarks and anything else I feel inclined to write about. 

Enjoy.