My Bob and I

As a small child with no autonomy over my hair - or anything else- my first Bob was not my choice. It was my mother's decision and if memory is correct I cried for a day afterwards. This Bob lasted until I was about seven and decided to grow my hair long.

I loved my long hair, how it looked, all the styles I could do with it. But I was seven and I didn't really understand the whole "brushing" thing.

At age ten I saw the television series "The House of Elliot" and all I wanted in the whole world was Evangeline Elliot's geometric Bob. My Mum doesn't like change, especially change in my hair. She was sad when I said I wanted a Bob again. We compromised on a shoulder length do. Neither of us was happy. But over the next few years my hair got shorter and shorter and eventually I had the geometric Bob of my dreams.

Then puberty hit me with an unexpected twist. My dead straight, very manageable hair suddenly developed kinks, and then curls. i was very unhappy. But then Fiends hit the screen and the "Rachel" layered cut was all the rage. I grew my hair longer and had layers added.

But by fourteen I was back to the Bob. I had discovered leaving in conditioner and a hair dryer and it looked kinda rubbish but I loved the freedom of go-anywhere hair. By fifteen I was growing it back out and thinking I needed bra-strap length hair to be "pretty" and "feminine".

My hair got crazy curly and I just kept the Bob but switched to curl mouse to make it look okay.
The next decade of my like was a constant pendulum swing going toward or away from the Bob. My hair would reach that magical just-below-the shoulder-blades length that I still think is so sexy. But I would get frustrated and chop it off, back the Bob.

My hair was mid length again earlier this year. And curly. But I discovered the whole -grail of hair treatments- keratin straightening! i booked in and had a long-in-the-front, short-in-the-back Bob cut into my freshly smoothed hair. I thought I looked like Anna Wintor. But I don't. I look like a confident sixteen-year-old me. And I love it.

Maybe I'll grow my hair?

Are we getting sillier?

Sometimes I find myself looking up cat videos on you tube. Usually this is to feel better, having dealt with some horror or other earlier in the day. And it's fine. Nothing wrong with that. But is my escapism actually an act of embracing stupidity?

I'm passionate about many social justice issues. At the moment equal marriage is front and centre of my thoughts. I do my research, I think about this stuff. I will not adopt a view because it is easy, appealing or popular. I'm happy to be outside the norm, especially for something I believe in.

But some days are too hard. Some issues are too hard. Some people are too hard. And I find myself drawn to the stupidity readily available on the internet. I do it to take a break. To escape. But am I slowly rotting my brain? Is this exposure to the banal not only not helpful but actually harmful to myself or others?

I saw a documentary about Internet pornography addiction. The psychologist said that people rapidly escalate the extremity of what they watch. Where once a pretty naked girl was enough, three moths later all sorts of other things are needed for the same result.

Am I doing the same thing with the progressively sillier things I watch to make the world go away? Or is this a legitimate coping strategy to deal with the knowledge that the internet has unleashed? It is no longer possible, if you are an inquiring sort, to be ignorant of the plight of those around you. And once you know, you are obliged to act. Knowledge is nothing with out action.

Am I derelict in my duty to the world? Or is it just another cat video?