the haircut cycle of shame.

I got a hair cut last night. It's a notably clean-cut departure from the intentional untidiness that has for so long characterized my hairdo philosophy. I find myself pleased not only with the cut, but also because it provides me an opportunity to post a haircut-oriented piece that I composed in my high school years. Enjoy:

Oh I got a haircut today. The haircut cycle started over. It’s a five stage process.

Stage one: The most painful—the first week or two after the haircut wherein I look like a third grader.

Stage two: Life becomes livable again, but I am by no means flourishing. Compared to the wholeseome good looks of someone like an Eddie Winslow, I'm barely keeping my head above water.

Stage three: Stage three occurred last Wednesday—peak day—the day that my hair hits the perfect length. You can often tell my peak days because I strut. Hard.

Stage four: Post-Peak Syndrome sets in. The gradual transition from perfect hair to a shaggy mess is a difficult experience. Grumpiness and irritability tend to set in. My advice to you is when you notice that I am suffering from PPS, be sensitive and understand that it is out of my control. Other signs of PPS include low neck line, bushiness around the ears, and moptoppedness.

Stage five (Stage one): The (re)haircut. Preferring a look of scruffiness to a look of pre-pubescence, I try appeasing my mother with all kinds of excuses not to get a haircut, the best of which is "Jesus had long hair mom. Don't you want me to be like Jesus?" As she prepares dinner, I'll spend a few minutes reiterating my arguments while angelically posing next to the Greg Olsen painting near the kitchen. "We're like twins!" I’ll declare while she mulls over my proposition. Such techniques are effective, but only for a few days, no more. Inevitably, a hair cut is forced upon me, once more turning me into a third grader and commencing the whole vicious cycle yet again.

I explain the haircut cycle of shame specifically for all those girls out there who are either insensitive or oblivious to my cycles. I'd appreciate a just a little concern. Thanks.