I’m not really sure where to begin – so I’ll start with the concept that, if a picture’s worth a thousand words – what the hell was I thinking?!?
It’s sort of like waking up after a night of cavorting – where you did some really questionable stuff. You open your eyes, take in your surroundings and think to yourself any of the following, “What the hell did I do? Why did I do it? and my personal favorite – Who else was involved???” I feel that bangs are on this level. Except I can’t fix it and forget about it later in the day.
Nope – I’m stuck with these bad boys for 5-9 months. Fuckin’ A.
Bobby pins have become my new best friend. Don’t expect to see my hair down like this anytime soon.
But I must admit – last Friday, sitting in my stylist’s chair for two hours, made me (almost) forget the recent tragedies that have befallen N.’s squadron. I wish I could say that I was feeling brazen and bold – that I was ready for a change and by God! bangs were the answer. But I wasn’t. Brien fixed what my friend did wrong, and then – looking at the sad state of the “layered” hair around my face, proclaimed that “evening everything out” would probably be the best option to grow my hair out the way I love it.
I think I was mad, angry at the world. And like someone accustomed to self-punishment (I raced Ironman for Christ’s sake), I brazenly told him to, “Do whatever you think is best and will fix my hair.” So he did. And I hate it.
But seriously?! There are worse things in life – we all know that.
It wouldn’t be so horrible, but N and I are traveling up to Wisconsin for his sister’s wedding this weekend. His family takes millions of pictures, and I fear that I (and my bangs) will make several appearances. But that’s the least of it, I suppose.
In other news, the Yank and I are flying to Wisconsin (and now I’ve told you twice) – the land of cheese-heads, Bucky the Badger, and Packers (Go Pack GO!) – for a quick wedding weekend. Honestly – as happy as I am for the bride and groom, it’s been a tough road for the both of us. As much as we want to be happy for the happy couple, there are some pretty serious things happening out here. Believe me, I would be over the moon, if this wedding were the biggest thing in our live – there’s been a lot of pressure to go – and I suppose part of me wishes it were. But life is too real in many other ways, and the Yank and I have been through too much to feel this way.
It’s sort of hard to celebrate, when your mind is focused on the friend you recently lost, how another friend was seriously injured – and even though people assure us that they understand, I don’t think they do. How can they? I see and live with the fallout on a daily basis – not just from the recent loss, but from last year’s losses as well, smell the cigarette smoke on N’s flight suit because he smoked to deal with stress in combat and now he’s smoking again and even though I abhor smoking, and he’s not in combat now, I can’t hold it against him because I love him and this is how he copes. I see the pain in his eyes, mirrored in my own, as we both struggle to figure out the why of all of this – this shit. We are both mad, sad, angry, upset, struggling to finding our way – we are grieving….for our friends, for ourselves. A wedding is the last thing on our minds. We’ll be the shell shocked couple, imbibing in the corner.
It sounds awful to say, but I’m grateful the Memorial Service doesn’t coincide with the wedding; right now, the Yank and I belong with our Gunfighter Family, and there would have been some very disappointed Wisconsinites.
Did I mention that I have bangs?
Tomorrow we leave for Wisconsin, unless anything changes Memorial Service-wise. The Yank and I are already planning to drink our 4-hour Kansas City layover away, something that we’re both looking forward to. Pretty normal given the circumstances, I guess. Over and out.
PS – Thank you to all of my friends for your support. It’s been a tough time, and I’m so grateful for the outpouring of love. Icing….I need to remember that icing thing.