... Complete with a full shave of The Beard.
Last year when we spent Christmas in Missouri I had the crazy idea to get a haircut. The idea to get a haircut itself isn't so crazy, of course, but what is fairly crazy is the amount of hair I decided to cut off. Anyone who knows me well knows that I like to grow my hair long, and of course my beard (much to the chagrin of the occasional local church leader...). The Wife likes it too, so it works out for everyone (except maybe the aforementioned occasional local church leader). But sometimes I just feel like it's time for a clean slate in the hair department, and of course, though I'm not one to go to extremes (HA), with hair, which so quickly grows back, it sometimes seems like an all or nothing kind of situation. And what better time for a fresh start than the beginning of a new year? So, last January I had my shortest haircut ever, a bona fide buzz cut, and, to my surprise, I really enjoyed it. Not to say I didn't miss my long hair, as I certainly did, but it was a nice change, it dried so quickly and required even less maintenance than usual (which is already not that much), and I wondered if it would become an annual tradition (after which I would see just how long through the year I could go without taking scissors to hair). As Christmas came and went this year I started to think that maybe I wouldn't do it again after all, but then a week or two into January, well, this happened:
I'm not exactly sure what prompted it in the end, except that I had a few days (and weeks) in a row when it was just feeling really long and shaggy and sometimes itchy and had these weird waves and was just kind of annoying me. So, off it went! I don't really feel sad about it though. I am sentimental about many things, and have been about my locks in the past, but lately I've been able to keep it all in perspective (and it DOES grow back pretty fast). People don't recognize me at first, and I myself do the occasional double take for the first few days whenever I happen to catch my reflection in the mirror, but it's fun for a change. Some have wondered why I would do such a thing in the winter instead of the more likely summertime, but that I blame on the Honor Code. It disrupted my schedule when it prompted me to grow out my hair and beard when I could, which is the summer, and keep it short when I needed to, which was the winter. Those Testing Center and Men's Chorus powers that be certainly wouldn't allow my current usual trend.
|Taking a leaf out of Lili's book, though of course my hair was not nearly as long as Jeff's (oh my), though I guess the cut itself was probably as dramatic. I thought the captions were a nice touch.|
And there you have it! As Julie said, it was sheep shearing day at the Graham house. Just call me shorn.
P.S. Oh, and sorry about the excess amount of skin in this post. I promise I wasn't naked.