Scenes from Spring Break: Act One

Yesterday, I scheduled a haircut. I went with a speech prepared. The speech went something like this:

"I am ready for something new; something professional that doesn't take a lot of time . . . nothing too drastic, but I'm willing to experiment."

I recited my speech very well. Except for the one clause I left out. Guess which clause? Yes. The one that includes "drastic." 

A note of explanation. My sweet mother always kept my hair bobbed when I was growing up, so when I got older I rebelled by growing it long(er). I even made it to the tops of my shoulder blades for a while. And every year when the weather gets warm, I resist the urge to chop it off to a chin-length bob, and the urge passes, and I go back to my long-hair happiness, and resolve to let it get even longer. 

Until yesterday. My hair has not been this short in eleven years. The resolution and dedication of eleven years, gone in a few swift shears.

 And I love it. I feel older. And my hair does not look like an animal sleeps there anymore. And it's bouncy and cute and makes me want to wear a sundress all the time. And I will post photos as soon as I'm near a camera when I haven't woken up from a nap and don't look like some creepy puffy-eyed emo kid. 

***

In other news, life at home = beautifully relaxing. As a good friend pointed out, I find it hard to just stop and rest. Even my rest time has to be productive somehow: I must catch up on all those issues of Cooking Light, and organize my room, and bake all those things I can't at school, and walk the land - so that soon even relaxing becomes a to-do list, and I'm still wound up in a tight little ball. 

So I've been trying to take this friend's advice. Like today, when I dragged a quilt onto the back porch with some books and paper and pen, and wrote a poem for a while, and then just rested. Lay face down on the sun-warmed quilt and dozed. And came inside to crash on the couch and doze some more. 

Or last night when I put away my book and actually watched a movie with my family instead of glancing up every so often. And I found out that I really love High Noon and that haunting song that runs all the way through it and all future boyfriends must live up to the GCS (Gary Cooper Standard). 

Yes. Work and rest. A balance between the two. Not a constant mix of both. 

***

Also, my family has eaten dinner together every night so far. That never happens, because Jim the social butterfly is doing something every night with high school friends. [And I don't blame him - if my friends lived close, I'd be with them all the time during breaks. But my friend group comes from college. This is because I was anti-social in high school, and didn't figure out how to be anything but shy until my senior year. So by the time I found out that the kids in my class were actually pretty cool, there wasn't time for anything but a casual friendship. And this has been a really long side note.]

So it's been nice in the evenings, to sit and have supper while the sun sets and Dad and Jim quote There Will Be Blood and I laugh hysterically and Mom serves us really good food. And then we all hang out in the keeping room after dinner and watch old movies and I have the feeling this week will be one of those memories you come back to rest in later.

Do not forsake me, oh my darling

Wait, wait along

I do not know what fate awaits me

I only know I must be brave