Speaking of hair...

All that talk just reminded me of one time up the farm (that is, our way of saying "at our farmhouse in upstate New York," sibling of the famous "down the shore" expression-- I guess it's a Jersey thing.) I had my famous fauxhawk and was bouncing around on our gynormous trampoline with two little girls around the age of 6 that I had just met that day (who were cousins of my cousins visiting our farmhouse.)

All of the sudden, one of them stops bouncing and gives me a perplexed look. The other one stops to give a perplexed look to the one with the perplexed look. I return the perplexed look to both of them.

First perplexed one says "Uh...why is your hair like that?!"

Before I'm even able to open my mouth to somehow explain my eclectic and sometimes impulsive choices in life that aim to represent and emphasize uniqueness, diversity, feminism and the role hairstyles play in gender-typing in post-modernist America, the second one says, without missing a beat and with an air of confidence and frankness like Johnny Cochran in a courtroom: "Duuuhh. She was born that way."

:D