So I think a lot of people define me by my red hair. Why do I think this?
It all started last semester... (flashback)
Because of my schedule, I had many a morning that I hadn’t showered by the time I needed to head up to campus. For a large chunk of the semester, my hair was large and chunky. And long. This caused for some wild manes when I didn’t get the chance to style it. Solution? I tamed them. With hats! Or beanies and a hood.
In my many travails across campus, there have been a plethora of occasions in which I would hattedly walk right by people I knew quite well, make eye contact with them, and they would not realize that it was me. Other days when I would see them, we would stop and have riveting conversations. Sparks would fly. Fireworks would work fires everywhere. And what was the only difference between those times and these? Visible hairiness. I have also noticed that when I wear a normal hat with no hood, the recognition rate is about half-n-half. Difference? About half. And the peeping forth of tufts of amber.
Now, I love my red hair. I am quite proud of it. There are few who likely possess my fondness of a red headdress. But there’s more to me than just bodily features. I’d appreciate it if you’d recognize that.
...but while you work on it, you’re welcome to gaze lovingly upon my flowing red locks. Or forever.
It all started last semester... (flashback)
Because of my schedule, I had many a morning that I hadn’t showered by the time I needed to head up to campus. For a large chunk of the semester, my hair was large and chunky. And long. This caused for some wild manes when I didn’t get the chance to style it. Solution? I tamed them. With hats! Or beanies and a hood.
In my many travails across campus, there have been a plethora of occasions in which I would hattedly walk right by people I knew quite well, make eye contact with them, and they would not realize that it was me. Other days when I would see them, we would stop and have riveting conversations. Sparks would fly. Fireworks would work fires everywhere. And what was the only difference between those times and these? Visible hairiness. I have also noticed that when I wear a normal hat with no hood, the recognition rate is about half-n-half. Difference? About half. And the peeping forth of tufts of amber.
Now, I love my red hair. I am quite proud of it. There are few who likely possess my fondness of a red headdress. But there’s more to me than just bodily features. I’d appreciate it if you’d recognize that.
...but while you work on it, you’re welcome to gaze lovingly upon my flowing red locks. Or forever.
You are the reason I love gingers.
ReplyDeleteGinger
ReplyDelete