Going to Unreasonable Lengths:

Every person has three ranges of hair length:

1. The range at which they consider it "too short to be functional."
2. The range at which it is "just about right." ( Though no woman appears to be entirely satisfied with her hair, even at the "right" range.)
3. The range at which it is "entirely too much to handle."

Moodles chews a package of #7 round needles.

These ranges vary from person to person, and some people, much to their chagrin, don't seem to be genetically capable of producing enough hair to hit the "enough" range much less the "too much" category. Being half-Japanese, and therefore having received the "OMG, HAIR!!!" gene, this is not my problem. I have extra-ordinarily healthy hair growing in places I really wish it wouldn't, but lets not go into that.

For me, the "too short" range is anything above my shoulder blades - mostly because I am routinely too lazy to do anything with my hair, and if it is above my shoulder blades, my hair will not stay behind me when I lean forward. PLUS, my hair is naturally curly, and if I get too much above my shoulder blades, there isn't enough weight in my hair to keep it from turning into ringlets. Let me assure you, I am entirely too sarcastic and deadpan to run around looking like Shirley Temple.

The "just about right" range is anything between the bottom of my shoulder blades and the top of my belt. I have kept my hair about there for most of my life. As I mentioned, I am not entirely satisfied with my hair at that length, but I can do 80% of the things I want with my hair when it is that long. (I still can't do that neat "crown of braids" thing, though, because I have a big, fat head. I know. It's a terrible fate... However I have determined that having hair long enough for a braid crown puts me well into the "too much to handle" range...)

Because I haven't managed to get to the stylist since before Moodles was born, my hair is now in the "too much to handle" stage of growth, and it's making me a little insane. I am ok with "hair past my waist," as they say in the romance novels. I am NOT OK with "hair past my butt." This was underscored for me twice yesterday when a colleague mentioned my hair in a very complimentary way, and I brushed her off with a litany of complaints. (Sorry, D. What I meant to say was, "Thank you.") And again, when I got home from work and had a chance to shower and deep condition, because Mom kept the baby for an extra half hour, so I wouldn't have to worry about running out of the bathroom naked and covered in soap because Moodles found a way to destroy herself in an empty crib.

I know that at least half of you reading now hate me because I'm complaining about hair growth that you've been trying to achieve all your life, but let me tell you why hair past your butt sucks the big one:

1. You sit on it. Your dog sits on it. The stinky guy next to you on the bus sits on it. In all three situations you end up trapped. The dog will take advantage and lick your face until you asphyxiate. You PRAY that the stinky guy on the bus will only take advantage and talk your ear off, but you sometimes worry that he might also lick your face.
2. You have to un-tuck your hair from your pants every time you go to the bathroom. This wouldn't be as annoying if it wasn't winter and you weren't wearing a wool sweater. But because it is winter, and you are wearing a sweater, un-tucking your hair will generate enough static charge to shock the shit out of you when you reach for the stall door, and your hair will stand out around you like a three foot halo in all directions. If "hair by Vandegraph" is not a good look on you, you will be irritated for the next 20 minutes until the charge wears off... By then you will have to pee again... Rinse, repeat.
3. You have to be careful when you potty. I will leave those details to your imagination. Let me just sum up by saying that if you were formerly a braid chewer, the potential for utter grossness here might cure you of the habit forever.
4. This one is my favorite: Showering becomes disconcerting. Picture yourself in a nice, hot shower, deep conditioning your hair, because that's what Lady Godiva would want... When the time comes to rinse, you let down your luxurious locks from where they were piled on top of your head, sucking up all the lovely moisturizers... In the last two minutes on top of your head, those locks have become cold and clammy. Where do they go when you shake them out? They go right into the crack of your ass, that's where. Not cool. 

Hat for Matt. Needs to be blocked.

Problem #4 can repeat itself as you dry your hair with interesting and, at times, utterly humiliating variations. You lean forward and flip your hair upside down to towel it off, but then how do you get back into the upright position for take off? Especially if you happen to be preening in front of your newly minted boyfriend? You don't just wad it up and stand - no! You fling it up over your shoulder and arch your back majestically like a surfacing mermaid! And then... Oh... The horrors...

Arching your back makes your hair effectively a foot longer, which means that when it lands, it will go BETWEEN your legs (COLD! CLAMMY! AUGH!) and then up over your thigh. Because it is squeaky clean, it will STICK THERE AND NEVER COME OUT. I don't know if you've ever tried to balance in a position wherein your boobs are pointed at the sky, but it's quite difficult... Especially if it's not a position you intended to be in, in the first place. If you are a klutz like me, and start thrashing around like an idiot, this will cause you to fall over in an entirely ungraceful tangle of limbs and hair and land on your head. LOUDLY. At this point, you can only hope that your newly minted boyfriend is sensitive enough not to laugh at you when he comes to rescue you from your poorly planned attempt to be irresistible.

Not that that has ever happened to me... Ever.

Anyway, I need a haircut soon before I manage to injure myself.  Also, I made this hat last night for the imminent in-laws. Moodles helped.