I am looking out my window and I see a looming mist around rich green mountains and rollercoaster hills. The "marble palace" that I live in is one gigantic building( incredibly eco friendly) and very Palo Soleri in the sense that it is built up and surrounded by some of the most beautiful and enticing nature you have ever seen. There are also many covered verandas around so you can enjoy studying korean as rain pours from above.
Infact, I did just that yesterday night. It is amazing to me that in three days of intensive Korean instruction (four hours a day)my class has gone from a few people knowing the alphabet to reading sentences at a (semi) fluid pace. Thats like 4 years growth in 12 hours, TFA would be so proud. :) During my stay here I have also gotten a sense for Korean culture, nothing that I didn't know already, but more like facts being confirmed before my eyes. Example: male-male or female-female effection is common. Older gentleman can be seen walking hand in hand and girls give each other lots of effection. During one of our drinking outtings (ive only gone twice but people have been hitting the town 40 or so at a time for days straight, we are picking up on this aspect really well) two of our male Korean college student friends were kissing each others heads in a way that would cause most Americans to raise eyebrows.Though it did bring back memories of a certain group of 09 TFA corps memebers who were very bro-mantic with each other, went on movie dates and were not afraid to show some love. (Miss you guys, you would be so loved here) Interestingly enough, Koreans have no gaydar and the gay culture is still only beginning to make so headway when it comes to understanding of the concept.
Respect is the name of the game here, I find myself bowing overnearly every three steps as I walk down the halls, insa is the word for greeting and giving insa will result in me having a six pack. We bow to Professors, our Korean teachers and even the construction workers who pound away at the school at all time of the day (this university seriously has a heartbeat, they are always baning out a steady rhythm and when it stops everyone notices because our bodies arent shaking anymore. ALso- fun fact- construction workers wear really nice collared shirts to work!! so cute.)
I have had the pleasure of experiencing a Korean classroom as a field trip to Changju. First off, they really do hate feet here (so glad someone else shares my intense disgust) and you have to take your shoes off whenever you enter a household or room. There are even lips in our rooms that bring the rest of the room up so we leave the shoes on the bottom ledge as we enter. Anyway, after taking our shoes off the elementary teachers and I went through the school in comfy slippers that I hope to god someone cleaned before I was forced to shove my feet in there. The hallways, floors, and even steps were plastered with english phrases, they focus so much on english language cultivation that they do not waste any room. However, the red riding hood story that pasted on the steps (each time you walk up you read a new line) was a little awkward and thus probably not helpful to their English development.
Also- one more gripe- the korean kids dont raise hands. That is part of the culture, they just shout words out. I plan on instilling a little American teaching practice when it comes to those things. I already know the Korean word for NO so I think I will practice that for the first days before they simmer down and sit in their seats. Truth be told, behavior was much worse that I have seen in many classrooms, mainly because the problems were being completely ignored by the teacher. They were super cute though. Bonus points- one kid wore suspenders and knew everything. I suspect him to be the class captain, being one for my Korean class I get him. I just need to get a pair of suspenders to complete the look.
Ah, I have so much more to say but that mountain is looking too good not to explore it. Korea rocks, I need you all to come and see it for yourself. so :) Anyongkaseyo!
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
Shake Machines !!!!!
I have been working out at 6amat the Korean gym for the past two days. (Quite a streak eh?) Today I was brave enough to step onto the SHAKE MACHINE. This thing basically gives off serious vibrations and moves your body from left to right very very quickly as you hold on. It basically isolates the areas on your body that are fatand not muscle and then makes them jiggle like there is no tomorrow.
So please imagine this scene: I am holding on to the bars after setting the timer and the setting on a high level, then, the machines slowly warms up and sharts to move me from side to side with increasing speed. By the end of the first minute my ass is bopping up and down so hard it would make any rap-video-wanna-be-dance grimmace in disgust. But wait, the machine is not done yet, as the intensity increases so does the jiggling on other parts of my body, its like the fat is being extracted from every hiding spot and shown to the world in full bump and grind glory. Mind you, I am the younges person in the gym. By FAR. The only other three people are over 65 and most likely looking at my jiggling and thinking I am morbidly obese. Apparently it is only fitting that the only person in the gym with a little fat to spare is moving and grooving to the speed of a shake machine.
So clearly, the Koreans really know how to make you extremely selfconcious. I will definately be back for the machine tomorrow. Maybe this is how Shakira learned to shake her hips so they don't lie.
So please imagine this scene: I am holding on to the bars after setting the timer and the setting on a high level, then, the machines slowly warms up and sharts to move me from side to side with increasing speed. By the end of the first minute my ass is bopping up and down so hard it would make any rap-video-wanna-be-dance grimmace in disgust. But wait, the machine is not done yet, as the intensity increases so does the jiggling on other parts of my body, its like the fat is being extracted from every hiding spot and shown to the world in full bump and grind glory. Mind you, I am the younges person in the gym. By FAR. The only other three people are over 65 and most likely looking at my jiggling and thinking I am morbidly obese. Apparently it is only fitting that the only person in the gym with a little fat to spare is moving and grooving to the speed of a shake machine.
So clearly, the Koreans really know how to make you extremely selfconcious. I will definately be back for the machine tomorrow. Maybe this is how Shakira learned to shake her hips so they don't lie.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
July 3rd never occured.
So this is the first blog from Korea. This country is strikingly beautiful, on the three hour ride from Seoul we passes numerous cities on the lakefront and the greenery and beautiful bridges around were breathtaking.
It is also Very very humid here, I finally get why people complain about humidity and hair. I took a 10 min hard run on the tredmill today and it felt (and my body glistened as if...) I had just run a marathon.
The food is incredible. Pickled radish looks like noodles, kimchi heats up the body several degrees and the meats are very lean. I really like the dehydrated squid i bought at a truck stop.
The last quick remark I will make before going to shower in my bathroom, (I will have to put pictures up later because it is really a fascinating thing when your entire bathroom is your shower) is that I have to take a female only elevator to the female only part of the dorm. This is inforced by cameras. Everyone is totally complaint of this but sometimes people forget and jump on the wrong one.
Bowing out at a 45 degree angle- Olenka!
It is also Very very humid here, I finally get why people complain about humidity and hair. I took a 10 min hard run on the tredmill today and it felt (and my body glistened as if...) I had just run a marathon.
The food is incredible. Pickled radish looks like noodles, kimchi heats up the body several degrees and the meats are very lean. I really like the dehydrated squid i bought at a truck stop.
The last quick remark I will make before going to shower in my bathroom, (I will have to put pictures up later because it is really a fascinating thing when your entire bathroom is your shower) is that I have to take a female only elevator to the female only part of the dorm. This is inforced by cameras. Everyone is totally complaint of this but sometimes people forget and jump on the wrong one.
Bowing out at a 45 degree angle- Olenka!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Peace Out!
The lights are dim, the rope cords that separate the boxing rink from the crowd rock gently to the Rocky theme music, the spotlight shine on the announcer at the center of the mat.
"In this corner......." he annunciates each syllable and draws the crowd in "at 5 feet four inches tall, weighing in at 125 (thanks mom for feeding my "the last supper" for two straight weeks) hailing from Phoenix, Az is the Ukrainian renegade, with the famous sass attack move and nerves of steel made by the hammer and sickle she is packed and ready to jet off, please welcome to the battle field Olleeeeeeeeeeeeeeenka Leeeeeeeneeeeeetsss!"
I smack my gloved hands together and then pump by fists in the air as I approach the announcer, the crowd obviously goes wild. My uniform is a mixture of colors and flags because I don't actually have one country that I am representing, I am a compilation of the many experiences made in several foreign lands. I don't quite have a home.
"In the other corner....." he starts up again, and the crowd is momentarily hushed by his booming voice "at the geographical coordinates of 37 00 N, 127 30 E, a landmass totaling 96,920 sq km (thats slightly larger than Indiana folks) and boasting a population of 48,636,068 thin people please make some noise for the country that has 81% of it's people living in urban areas, an infant mortality rate of 4.24 deaths/1,000 live births and a literacy rate of 97.9%.....here is Soooooooouth Koooooooooreeeeeeeeeeeaa!"
We do a fist bump and then square off in position...let the battle begin.
facts taken from https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/ks.html
"In this corner......." he annunciates each syllable and draws the crowd in "at 5 feet four inches tall, weighing in at 125 (thanks mom for feeding my "the last supper" for two straight weeks) hailing from Phoenix, Az is the Ukrainian renegade, with the famous sass attack move and nerves of steel made by the hammer and sickle she is packed and ready to jet off, please welcome to the battle field Olleeeeeeeeeeeeeeenka Leeeeeeeneeeeeetsss!"
I smack my gloved hands together and then pump by fists in the air as I approach the announcer, the crowd obviously goes wild. My uniform is a mixture of colors and flags because I don't actually have one country that I am representing, I am a compilation of the many experiences made in several foreign lands. I don't quite have a home.
"In the other corner....." he starts up again, and the crowd is momentarily hushed by his booming voice "at the geographical coordinates of 37 00 N, 127 30 E, a landmass totaling 96,920 sq km (thats slightly larger than Indiana folks) and boasting a population of 48,636,068 thin people please make some noise for the country that has 81% of it's people living in urban areas, an infant mortality rate of 4.24 deaths/1,000 live births and a literacy rate of 97.9%.....here is Soooooooouth Koooooooooreeeeeeeeeeeaa!"
We do a fist bump and then square off in position...let the battle begin.
facts taken from https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/ks.html
Thursday, June 24, 2010
the EX factor
I was talking to a good friend the other day about how certain cars, because they were driven by our ex-boyfriends/lovers/crushes still stand out in the mind. It is interesting how a car becomes a symbol of our presence in a certain place, or can jolt a memory into our head faster than you can say Honda Civic Hatchback.
The first car that I was obsessively spotting around the high school parking lot was a midnight black soft top Jeep with custom gigantic wheels. If that wasn't enough to solidify it's presence amongst the other cars, it also had a unique and distinctive read view mirror that sported spikes. Yikes. My heart would flutter as I pulled into the parking lot and saw that symbol of the heart throb badass. Another high school crush car that still makes me laugh at my ridiculousness and poor self esteem is a Chevy Blazer. Holy crap, my insecurities got the best of me when the car owner and I decided to trade cars for a day and I was so nervous that I couldn't even get his keys to open the door. Im still surprised my face did not fall off, I was so embarrassed.
With my first boyfriend came the SUBARU experience. I had little knowledge ( and interest) in learning about cars at that time, but by the end of the relationship I could tell you the differences in performance power between the STI and the WRX models. STI being clearly the superior. Driving that car was also a pretty cool experience because those who knew anything about cars and saw me step out of it has a sudden appreciation for "my" car choice.
Since then the parking space outside my home had been filled with a variety of other car brands. The beat up gold Toyota still has a special place in my drive way because of the endless miles it drove back and forth from Tucson and how easy it was to fog up the the windows on a cold November day. After that breakup the sight of that 98 rear end would bring tears to my eyes for months. Also on the honorable mention list, a french car in which we spun around the Arc de Triumph, Maria and I clinging to each other for dear life.
Most recently there was a been a Ford that drew my attention. I dont know the model or year but the out of state license plate and especially the bumpy looking back have now made it possible for me to spot it's sublings without a second thought.
Thank you cars for being random reminders of good times, awkward moments (my fave) and also giving me a heads up so I can duck out of the way if the person who owns the car is someone I do not wish to ever speak to again.
Another topic that I want to write about but do not have the time would have to be an extension of Jessica's post about ex-boyfriends and music. The friends that we attain while being involved with someone sometimes end up being better for us than the relationship itself. :)
The first car that I was obsessively spotting around the high school parking lot was a midnight black soft top Jeep with custom gigantic wheels. If that wasn't enough to solidify it's presence amongst the other cars, it also had a unique and distinctive read view mirror that sported spikes. Yikes. My heart would flutter as I pulled into the parking lot and saw that symbol of the heart throb badass. Another high school crush car that still makes me laugh at my ridiculousness and poor self esteem is a Chevy Blazer. Holy crap, my insecurities got the best of me when the car owner and I decided to trade cars for a day and I was so nervous that I couldn't even get his keys to open the door. Im still surprised my face did not fall off, I was so embarrassed.
With my first boyfriend came the SUBARU experience. I had little knowledge ( and interest) in learning about cars at that time, but by the end of the relationship I could tell you the differences in performance power between the STI and the WRX models. STI being clearly the superior. Driving that car was also a pretty cool experience because those who knew anything about cars and saw me step out of it has a sudden appreciation for "my" car choice.
Since then the parking space outside my home had been filled with a variety of other car brands. The beat up gold Toyota still has a special place in my drive way because of the endless miles it drove back and forth from Tucson and how easy it was to fog up the the windows on a cold November day. After that breakup the sight of that 98 rear end would bring tears to my eyes for months. Also on the honorable mention list, a french car in which we spun around the Arc de Triumph, Maria and I clinging to each other for dear life.
Most recently there was a been a Ford that drew my attention. I dont know the model or year but the out of state license plate and especially the bumpy looking back have now made it possible for me to spot it's sublings without a second thought.
Thank you cars for being random reminders of good times, awkward moments (my fave) and also giving me a heads up so I can duck out of the way if the person who owns the car is someone I do not wish to ever speak to again.
Another topic that I want to write about but do not have the time would have to be an extension of Jessica's post about ex-boyfriends and music. The friends that we attain while being involved with someone sometimes end up being better for us than the relationship itself. :)
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Are you afraid to die?
I believe the old addage goes a little like this: there are only two guarantees in life- death and taxes.
Being that up to this point I have managed to escape paying taxes {(wooo for being a full time student and a full time employee, ASU was good for something...) and even had my mom's HELP in doing most of them, lets be real- I just sat there and nodded as she explained it and then she ended up doing them mostly herself anyway(shit, im more wordy than normal today} I now come to expect that death is the only sure truth in this crazy ass world we live in. That being said, how do ya'll feel about it?
A friend and I had a really amazing conversation a few months back about the millions of outlooks one can pick to use when contemplating life. Factors such as religion, upbringing, motivation, personality all came up as valid components...and then I mentioned death. What role does death play in this whole LIFE thing you may ask. It is the end of all the fun, the final curtain call, el fin. Scary right? Contemplating this over in my half shaved head I really enjoy hearing how a person views death because I can infer a lot about them through their thought process. I mean, personally, I don't really have a problem with it because lets face it people, it is the one thing that will for sure happen to each and every one of us and our loved ones. That is not to say that it is not a sad event or one that should be avoided (wear your seatbelt) but even if the even that causes the death is surprising, the idea of death should certainly not be.
My dear friend Jeremy and I started this "game" that I also ask people to play with me when I am trying to understand their "essence" and to this date it has spawned really creative and telling results. You set this up for someone, and let them at it "Imagine that a picture was taken of you at any point in your life that captures you at your most shining moment, in a sense it captures your essense/soul/personality at a point in your life you feel the most "you"...explain what i would see in that picture" sometimes it take a little prying and prodding to get the person to respond but many have surprised themselves and me with their answers. Here is a sample of real answers:
- walking into the house from a day of being a doctor to an excited bundle of children and wife to have a family dinner
-standing on top of a Mexican Indian ruin with mom, doing the rocky pose
-a three pact picture of wild youth, laughing with family, and then an adventurous retirement
-nothing (we are working on this one...)
-watching with spouse as the youngest child graduates college
Here is mine: I am walking through the bazar in Morocco, holding my youngest baby in my right hand, with my left I am holding on to my second youngest and pointing things out at the same time, there are two others running ahead and laughing. There is a certain radient glow from the sun that makes our various skin colors extra tan and a flirtacious warm breeze ruffles my long flowy dress and tangles the different textures of hair the group provides. We are walking along and enjoying the day and window shopping, not purchasing anything, just admiring the various gadgets, fruits and tapestries on sale. Surprise twist: there is no man walking with me in the picture.hmm
So I think the next game I will play will be asking people- "What are your thoughts on death?" I hope to again gain deeper knowledge about the characters around me as they answer this question. I already know my answer, but don't want to give it away quite yet. :)
Being that up to this point I have managed to escape paying taxes {(wooo for being a full time student and a full time employee, ASU was good for something...) and even had my mom's HELP in doing most of them, lets be real- I just sat there and nodded as she explained it and then she ended up doing them mostly herself anyway(shit, im more wordy than normal today} I now come to expect that death is the only sure truth in this crazy ass world we live in. That being said, how do ya'll feel about it?
A friend and I had a really amazing conversation a few months back about the millions of outlooks one can pick to use when contemplating life. Factors such as religion, upbringing, motivation, personality all came up as valid components...and then I mentioned death. What role does death play in this whole LIFE thing you may ask. It is the end of all the fun, the final curtain call, el fin. Scary right? Contemplating this over in my half shaved head I really enjoy hearing how a person views death because I can infer a lot about them through their thought process. I mean, personally, I don't really have a problem with it because lets face it people, it is the one thing that will for sure happen to each and every one of us and our loved ones. That is not to say that it is not a sad event or one that should be avoided (wear your seatbelt) but even if the even that causes the death is surprising, the idea of death should certainly not be.
My dear friend Jeremy and I started this "game" that I also ask people to play with me when I am trying to understand their "essence" and to this date it has spawned really creative and telling results. You set this up for someone, and let them at it "Imagine that a picture was taken of you at any point in your life that captures you at your most shining moment, in a sense it captures your essense/soul/personality at a point in your life you feel the most "you"...explain what i would see in that picture" sometimes it take a little prying and prodding to get the person to respond but many have surprised themselves and me with their answers. Here is a sample of real answers:
- walking into the house from a day of being a doctor to an excited bundle of children and wife to have a family dinner
-standing on top of a Mexican Indian ruin with mom, doing the rocky pose
-a three pact picture of wild youth, laughing with family, and then an adventurous retirement
-nothing (we are working on this one...)
-watching with spouse as the youngest child graduates college
Here is mine: I am walking through the bazar in Morocco, holding my youngest baby in my right hand, with my left I am holding on to my second youngest and pointing things out at the same time, there are two others running ahead and laughing. There is a certain radient glow from the sun that makes our various skin colors extra tan and a flirtacious warm breeze ruffles my long flowy dress and tangles the different textures of hair the group provides. We are walking along and enjoying the day and window shopping, not purchasing anything, just admiring the various gadgets, fruits and tapestries on sale. Surprise twist: there is no man walking with me in the picture.hmm
So I think the next game I will play will be asking people- "What are your thoughts on death?" I hope to again gain deeper knowledge about the characters around me as they answer this question. I already know my answer, but don't want to give it away quite yet. :)
Friday, June 4, 2010
The hair that is here.
It is a peculiar thing, a girl's hair. Many of us swear by a shampoo, are mortifyingly loyal to our stylists and have developed a daily routine that includes elaborate styling equipment as well as many cute jars of product. So it is no surprise that the way hair looks can tell you a lot about the girl sporting it. For a long time I had little choice about how my hair looked. My mom would just braid it and send me off to school. I would get one haircut a year, which basically consisted of my mom taking a pair of scissors and snipping off half of the braid. Lovely.
At fifteen I was able to get my first professional haircut. I made up for lost time by charging up 150 dollars worth of highlights, the cut and deep conditioning. That was the end of my professional haircuts for a while and I resorted to my beloved Colorsilk hair dye for 2.99 at Target. It was a lovely, changing my appearance on a monthly basis just by plopping on a little dye and waiting 30 minutes. I began to experiment with different colors and my long red locks became somewhat of a trademark, an illustration of my personality.
The length of hair is also a telling factor, long hair is representative of beauty while short hair gives the girl a little extra sass. I have for too long subscribed to the idea that in order to look my best, be the most attractive I have to sport a long thick mane of multi-tonal hair. Short hair is cute, fun for the summer, but every girl covets the look of long long locks being splashed back from her face by the playful summer wind. The internalization of such standards of beauty is what caused me to be mortified and balling my hands into fists of rage when an ex-boyfriend accidentally cut my hair to a painfully short length. It was even with my ears, and highly unattractive as far as I was concerned. I hate to put it in writing but the real reason that I was so aghast when I saw the damage was that I had a picture perfect scenario, a wedding scene, in which i come down from a balcony with lusciously wavy strands of hair flowing far down my back. That insane picture, the image of my assumed "wedding perfection bliss" was no longer possible for many years after that hair cut. It upset me so much for some reason that if I had wanted to, I would not be able to get married in that way for at least 4 years. I had lost hope of being a perfect and beautiful bride.
So recently, I have been thinking about my hair and how it portrays me as a person. Incidentally, my hair was finally at a length where it could be manipulated back into that picture of wedding perfection. However, as my hair had grown out during the last 4 years, I had also outgrown that idea of perfection. Thankfully I no longer let hair length for a phantom future wedding dictate the choices I make with it now. It seems almost laughable that I was planning out my wedding hair instead of planning out my next 5 years in terms of career, location and financial stability. But that is how young and naive I was in college. What mattered then- friends, fun, freedom are still valued today, but the basis for their quantifiable measurement has changed drastically. I measure quality of friendships by how much they push me to grow as a person and how much they inspire me to be more than I am today. Fun can mean partying, but it can also mean painting together, cooking dinner, taking a walk, more wholesome things. Freedom- well, instead of wanting to rebel and fight off every piece of advice from parents I seek it and listen thoroughly, realizing the value behind the words of wisdom and travel, true world travel is now the epitome of a freeing experience.
But I digress, back to hair, before my recent haircut I was contemplating shaving a part of my head. I had toyed with the idea for a few months before truly settling on the idea. After all, when else in life will I be able to sport a half-shaved head. Why wait when you can do it now. Respice Finem, live in the moment. So I tossed all hesitation and doubt aside in the same corner that I threw away my traditional concepts of beauty and went for it. I LOVE it. It was such a liberating experience, the feel of freshly buzzed hair, looking at the incredibly long strands that littered the floor like wounded battle soldiers and seeing myself in a new and more exposed light was thrilling. I could not help but think of that wedding hair image that I had in my mind, it will take many years now to achieve that look. That is probably a good thing. If I let go of those expectations, the need to find someone, the need to settle, the need to conform to the average, the standards no longer apply to me. I am now free.
The repercussions of the haircut- well, I scared some of my students. Some probably think that I am a lesbian, and many told me it looked strange and ugly. Had I been any less confident in my choice I would have taken their comments to heart. But I realize that my new haircut just rocked their perception of male and female stereotypes. I can't wait to see what my mom thinks of it. All in all, I am very happy with the decision, infact, I want more cut off. It is a adrenaline rush to hear those buzzing clippers coming at me, knowing that whatever I look like will not change who I am a person. The outside me may look different, and perhaps be treated differently to a degree, but as a new chapter in my life begins I am excited to show a new face to the world.
At fifteen I was able to get my first professional haircut. I made up for lost time by charging up 150 dollars worth of highlights, the cut and deep conditioning. That was the end of my professional haircuts for a while and I resorted to my beloved Colorsilk hair dye for 2.99 at Target. It was a lovely, changing my appearance on a monthly basis just by plopping on a little dye and waiting 30 minutes. I began to experiment with different colors and my long red locks became somewhat of a trademark, an illustration of my personality.
The length of hair is also a telling factor, long hair is representative of beauty while short hair gives the girl a little extra sass. I have for too long subscribed to the idea that in order to look my best, be the most attractive I have to sport a long thick mane of multi-tonal hair. Short hair is cute, fun for the summer, but every girl covets the look of long long locks being splashed back from her face by the playful summer wind. The internalization of such standards of beauty is what caused me to be mortified and balling my hands into fists of rage when an ex-boyfriend accidentally cut my hair to a painfully short length. It was even with my ears, and highly unattractive as far as I was concerned. I hate to put it in writing but the real reason that I was so aghast when I saw the damage was that I had a picture perfect scenario, a wedding scene, in which i come down from a balcony with lusciously wavy strands of hair flowing far down my back. That insane picture, the image of my assumed "wedding perfection bliss" was no longer possible for many years after that hair cut. It upset me so much for some reason that if I had wanted to, I would not be able to get married in that way for at least 4 years. I had lost hope of being a perfect and beautiful bride.
So recently, I have been thinking about my hair and how it portrays me as a person. Incidentally, my hair was finally at a length where it could be manipulated back into that picture of wedding perfection. However, as my hair had grown out during the last 4 years, I had also outgrown that idea of perfection. Thankfully I no longer let hair length for a phantom future wedding dictate the choices I make with it now. It seems almost laughable that I was planning out my wedding hair instead of planning out my next 5 years in terms of career, location and financial stability. But that is how young and naive I was in college. What mattered then- friends, fun, freedom are still valued today, but the basis for their quantifiable measurement has changed drastically. I measure quality of friendships by how much they push me to grow as a person and how much they inspire me to be more than I am today. Fun can mean partying, but it can also mean painting together, cooking dinner, taking a walk, more wholesome things. Freedom- well, instead of wanting to rebel and fight off every piece of advice from parents I seek it and listen thoroughly, realizing the value behind the words of wisdom and travel, true world travel is now the epitome of a freeing experience.
But I digress, back to hair, before my recent haircut I was contemplating shaving a part of my head. I had toyed with the idea for a few months before truly settling on the idea. After all, when else in life will I be able to sport a half-shaved head. Why wait when you can do it now. Respice Finem, live in the moment. So I tossed all hesitation and doubt aside in the same corner that I threw away my traditional concepts of beauty and went for it. I LOVE it. It was such a liberating experience, the feel of freshly buzzed hair, looking at the incredibly long strands that littered the floor like wounded battle soldiers and seeing myself in a new and more exposed light was thrilling. I could not help but think of that wedding hair image that I had in my mind, it will take many years now to achieve that look. That is probably a good thing. If I let go of those expectations, the need to find someone, the need to settle, the need to conform to the average, the standards no longer apply to me. I am now free.
The repercussions of the haircut- well, I scared some of my students. Some probably think that I am a lesbian, and many told me it looked strange and ugly. Had I been any less confident in my choice I would have taken their comments to heart. But I realize that my new haircut just rocked their perception of male and female stereotypes. I can't wait to see what my mom thinks of it. All in all, I am very happy with the decision, infact, I want more cut off. It is a adrenaline rush to hear those buzzing clippers coming at me, knowing that whatever I look like will not change who I am a person. The outside me may look different, and perhaps be treated differently to a degree, but as a new chapter in my life begins I am excited to show a new face to the world.
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