The Cut Man Cometh

I thought of several corny jokes to start todays post with...The Big Bang Theory, To Bang or not to Bang, etc... I decided to avoid them all, even though this topic might be humorous to some. It is in fact about - whether or not I should cut bangs into my hair.

I have a lot of time to myself these days. My husband travels every week and that leaves me at home with the cat and the knitting. I'm 80 years old before my time, but that's a blog for another day. I'm going to try and explain how this whole bang thing came around without sounding crazy, but as they say in Clue, too late.

I bought this shirt the other week. I mentioned it in my things that make me happy post. Well, I got home from work the night I wore it and just couldn't take it off. It's my dream white shirt, it was so hot. I finally go upstairs to change into my standard evening sweatshirt and I pass a mirror and start admiring this shirt yet again. Then what happens is eventually I end up taking what I believe is known as a good hard look at myself.

(Note: I know there are several vanity and mirror jokes to be made here. If you know me well, you know I'm fairly obsessed with mirrors. Thank goodness my sisters don't read this or there would be plenty of tales about how I'm slightly image obsessed.)

So, that night I ended up standing there for several minutes and staring at myself and really seeing myself. (Do you think this is a sign of too much therapy? Or just enough?) I shake that off and resume my evening of red wine, dvr'd shows and knitting a scarf. Then a couple of nights ago, this happened again. I was having a pretty good hair day, so I found myself admiring my ponytail. Then all of a sudden, it wasn't my image or hair I was looking at, but myself. All the psycho-babble about finding yourself, I was starting to understand it. That night while all this was happening, suddenly I thought, you need bangs. The true Sarah has bangs. Which brings me out of the semi-crazy portion of this post.

I gave up the bangs at the end of my senior year of high school when Mr. Lane, who was directing our production of Our Town, told me I had to get them out of my face. That began the process and all through college I started growing them out and then I've had pretty much the same hair style since. Why bangs now? I have a pretty healthy relationship with my hair. If I don't like something, hair grows back and I rarely get very upset about a bad haircut. I think my hair is my best feature, but that's all because it's thick and curly, neither which I have any control over. Why not try something new?

That was my journey to the question and now the decision must be made. I'm going to get my hair cut Saturday. Perhaps I'll come out a truer version of myself. It might be nice to meet her.