Lessons in Learning How to Rest, Part Eight.

Lesson Eight: Let your freak flag fly.

I was sitting on the beach today just letting a slapdash stream of consciousness flow through my mind, when out of nowhere my thoughts landed on a memory I hadn't visited in years. It was almost as if I had invented a past memory that wasn't mine. It was so...out of character for the girl that writes this blog today.

Or was it that this girl just forgot a part of herself that still existed?

This City Girl is sorry to have to admit that in the middle of finding herself all over again and laying down some new ground rules for her life, she wasn't having as much fun as she used to. Even with the quick wit and dry humor, having unadulterated fun was not a part of daily life. Sarcasm and the occasional humorously odd observation does not (necessarily) a fun girl make.

Breaking into a 5 star hotel, stripping down and skinny dipping in a rooftop pool for 15 minutes until you get kicked out by the management, however...

A few months ago I had a short, but funny conversation with a boy I was dating. We were in the middle of a romantic entangling when he pulled away from my lips long enough to say, with an inquisitive tone, "You're kind of wild." I hadn't been labeled wild since high school. In fact, I couldn't really remember the last time I was truly "wild" by the world's definition. I had just polished off a crazy two years full of dramatic situations, haphazardly dating parts of Oregon and California, and heartbreaking lessons, but only once or twice had I acted like a wild child. If that!

Remembering the hotel incident today awakened a small part of me. And I'm happy to say that a new breeze is now blowing through my daily thoughts. I don't know how often my tempestuous side will make an appearance, but heaven help the uptight bystander that happens to be near when it does. Because I make no promises or apologies for where this City Girl's freak flag may fly!

Hairy Kiri

There's something simply amazing about a girl's hair! We women have way more options to deal with on a daily basis and it's not limited to just our hair: skirt, pants or dress? clutch, over the shoulder bag or wallet? heels or flats? short hair or long hair? straight or curly? blonde or brunette?

I know that men can cut and dye their hair, too, but for some reason it's a much bigger deal for a woman to change her hair than a man. Earlier this year I posted on Facebook my hair's evolution since last summer. I had decided to cut about 10 inches of my hair off and let it go back to it's naturally curly state for a number of reasons-one of them being, I thought I would attract a different type of man if I had a different hair style. So, I tried just about everything under the sun. If it was a possibility (and wouldn't make my hair fall out) I did it! Straight, curly, bangs, long, short, blondish, brownish, dark....I just loved having all those options! And what I found was that my hair didn't attract new types of men because it was different. I attracted new types of men, because of how my hair made me feel.

Here's the catch and my theory: a woman's hair dictates her identity and attitude.

When I had long, straight hair with blunt cut bangs I walked around with my head held a little higher than normal. I wore nicer clothes, always had my makeup and jewelry on perfectly and almost always had a pair of heels adorning my feet. Now that I'm making the transition back to my long curly hair (sans the bangs) I wear clothes that are a little more free-flowing and relaxed and I walk in full confidence that all my cards are on the table at all times. It almost feels as if I'm being more honest with myself and everyone around me to know that my hair holds no secrets these days. I've been walking around with a crazy mop of curly strands that seem to say, "This is what it looks like first thing in the morning, last thing at night and the color is what it is."

Never in a million years would I have thought that anytime I cut a few inches off my hair it would effect my outlook on life, but here I am walking around in more freedom of identity than I know what to do with...