When did I stop caring about my hair?

I haven't cut my hair for 8 months.

8.

Months.

I'm starting to not take care of my hair, this is bad. Part of it is having the luxury of pulling my hair back into a pony tail or a sleek chignon...part of it is giving up on life? I don't really know. I haven't had split-ends for years and now....

I don't even want to have long hair, it takes so much time to dooooo! I'm tired, I want to be a movie star and get extensions and have everyone else do my makeup. That's all.

Two things that seem related, but are.

Have you ever wish you could un-see something you've seen? For me it is wishing that I wouldn't have ever heard a certain song. I happened upon this song I listened to and loved often during the bad-feeling time and certainly associated with a specific relationship. It brought back a visceral, deep, dark feeling of that time, those people. I sat through it. I felt that sitting through it and feeling the pain one more time, maybe this time it would pass. As the song ended and the pain attached itself like a caboose to the beautiful trailing notes, I went to turn the music off. As I did an unexpected song started playing. "Graceland" by Paul Simon started bouncing along, reminding me immediately of my own exodus from the bad-feeling time as I made my way to Tennessee. Interestingly enough I found out that the artist of the bad-feeling song I had wanted to never hear actually died in Memphis. Coincidence? Yeah, totally. But it does give me pause to think that it would have been very neat and organized of that higher being that my bad-feeling time died just as I was received into Graceland.

An honest Inquiry to the Father.

This is one of the most profound songs I've ever come across. "You Found Me" by the Fray asked what my soul has been yearning to know in the years since my mother's death. Questions of 'why' and insinuations of theft of love ones and abandonment; there are too many emotions involved in grief to expect faith to linger. Now songs, I would like to believe, are open for interpretation and I think the Fray, although their own personal motives for this song may be similar, would be happy that I found something so real in their product. Those of you who love and know this song should take another look at the lyrics.

It's a conversation between a man/woman and God. The Fray, apart from the quotation marks indicating the first two lines, leaves the rest of the lyrics un-authored. During my first vague listenings I assumed it was a conversation going back and forth between these two people. Then, in a later listening when one of the men demanded "Where were you when everything was falling apart?" I decided that the whole song apart from the scoffed "Ask anything", was actually the man or woman pleading for answers, blaming God for abandonment, cursing Him for taking everything that made him who he was. That alone was truly emotional because I knew that I had been in and would frequently wander back to those feelings of deep despair. However, as I listened to that song again and again, a different side slowly emerged from the simple pleading lyrics. What if all the questions were really from the God character? Please read the lyrics below, or listen to the song with this in mind. It has changed forever the perspective I hold of my relationship and responsibilty in that relationship to our Father.

I found God on the corner of 1st and Amistad
Where the West was all but won
All alone, smoking his last cigarette
I said, "Where you been?" He said, "Ask anything"

Where were you when everything was falling apart?
All my days were spent by the telephone that never rang
And all I needed was a call that never came
To the corner of 1st and Amistad

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me
Lying on the floor surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late, you found me, you found me

But in the end everyone ends up alone
Losing her, the only one who's ever known
Who I am, who I'm not and who I wanna be
No way to know how long she will be next to me

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me
Lying on the floor surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late, you found me, you found me!

The early morning, the city breaks
And I've been calling for years and years and years and years
And you never left me no messages
You never sent me no letters
You got some kind of nerve taking all I want!

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me
Lying on the floor, where were you? Where were you?

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me
Lying on the floor surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late, you found me, you found me!

Why'd you have to wait to find me, to find me?

The #1

It's the Big Mac meal. I was nostalgically pondering this phenomenon while I was munching on my favorite artery blocking sandwich when I realized the significance of my love of this food. When I was little and our family would visit my maternal grandparents, the height of the trip would be our grandfather taking us out to fastfood. Coming from a family of 10, this was a rare occurance in itself, but to reiterate the importance of going to McDonalds I remember in the sixth grade when we were asked if we were stranded on a desert island and we had to eat one food for the rest of our lives, mine was the McDonald's cheesburger. It was happy meals during those younger years, but you knew you had reached adulthood when you were allowed to order your first Big Mac meal. A rite of passage that few understand as they look at my calorie soaked meal with disdain. What was your bar/bat mitvah oh ye yuppies? Your first Sega Genesis? Air Jordans? Easybake oven?? Well, you see, my rite has lived on and I can literally relive that feeling of pride and comfort of becoming an adult every time I take a bite of my juicy two beef patty with a sesame bun, lettuce, pickle, onion and special sauce. So I will endure criticism, because deep down I know that my rite is special, my rite is unique, and my rite is very, very tasty.