6/7/99 -- There's a couple of things about me that are bad.  Yeah, I know, how could someone with as high and opinion of themselves as I do think anything about them is bad?  Well, unfortunately there are a couple of things that even I have to admit are shortcomings.

One of them is my hair.  Now, most people at a glance might think I have good hair -- it's full, it's dirty blond, it's not too dry, and it's not receding at all.  But after people get to know me, they realize I always have the same haircut, and I always comb my hair the exact same way.  No, it's not because I'm a completely unstylish goober; it's because of the monstrous cowlick that dominates the front of my hair like the Andes.  It stands up for almost and inch, and then starts to curl over.  I can't wear my bangs (if I ever had any) over my forehead, because my hair would sorta jut out and then fall over, making it look like I woke up with bed head. 

So I get my hair cut short about once a month or so.  It's a definite improvement over my haircuts as a kid in Houston; I always got crew cuts, so I looked like a skinny seven-year-old marine-to-be.  And I got em' cut at a barber college across the street from my school that charged like a $1 per haircut.  I was somethign of an attraction; whenever I'd go in, they'd invite other students over to watch and learn how to give a crew cut (although I have always failed to see the difficulty in taking a shaver with a number 2 edge and running all over my head).  The reason why I got crew cuts was because at my school, hats weren't allowed, so I had no way of taming my hair.  The result was that when it grew out, the front of my head looked like it had a bale of hay growing out of it.  My luck changed when I moved to San Diego and went to public school.  In addition to humanely allowing us to wear shorts, we also could wear hats.  So, for the next two years straight, I wore a cap every day.  No exceptions.  I had a Seattle Seahawks hat that was dirtier than a Annabel Chong porn by the end of sixth grade.  But by God, my hair actually started to look somewhat decent.  It no longer went straight up, but developed a curl to it.  I immediately took advantage of this curl, and for the next eight years or so I wore my hair in a hair spray-assisted wave.

I got tired of the hair spray, so  now I get my haircut even shorter, and just comb it over and wet it periodically during the day.  It doesn't look particularly good, but at least it's neat and simple.  I'm longing for a change, though.  Yesterday I got my haircut, and the lady who cut it gelled it up and pushed my hair all back with her fingers.  It didn't stick straight down on my head, b/c my bangs are way too short and my cowlick is still strong enough to resist even the strongest hair gel.  But it looked pretty decent, and Ray and his cousin both complemented me on it. 

Then I got to thinking about bleaching it.  Well, I already had been thinking about it, and then Ray's cousin mentioned it as well.  Ray actually wants me to dye it black, but I think that'd look dumb.  I may want to be Asian, but looking like a dumbass with dyed black hair is going a little too far.  But a bleach job is worth considering.  Of course, with some bleached streaks and my hair gelled back, I'd look like Mark McGrath, the lead singer of Sugar Ray.  Well, Mark McGrath if he was a little fatter, and with worse teeth.  Plus, he's banging Madonna.

Shit, I'd ramble on about my other bad trait, my poor taste in music, but that'll have to wait for tomorrow...maybe.

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