Embracing My Hair-itage

Last Thursday I woke up late.
Very late.
I can't even blame it on my alarm this time.

It was entirely my fault.  Every last bit.
I guiltily admit that I stayed up late reading The Hunger Games.

Yeah, I know I'm a little behind.
I should probably remind you that I waited until all seven Harry Potter books were out and then devoured them all.

While reading The Hunger Games, I kept waiting to get to a good stopping point--the end of the chapter, a break in the action, a bit of a wrap up for the evening--but found there just wasn't one.  I think everyone knows that feeling of, "I'll just read one more page...."

So I kept reading.  One more page.  And then another...and then another....

Until I realized what time it was and reminded myself of what it would be like in the morning when 34 kids were all coming up and asking me questions or telling me they didn't get math.

When I finally did go to sleep, it very definitely wasn't a long enough night before that alarm of mine went off and--despite my best efforts to try to look better at work this year--there just wasn't going to be enough time to do much with my hair.  In fact, because I had slept with wet hair and my bangs had dried funny, there wasn't much at all I could do with them.

Except the Utah poof.

Is that a good look, or what?
I mean, you could hide an afternoon snack in there!
Why didn't I think of that?!

I think most people know what I am talking about when I say "Utah poof."  I spent a good chunk of my junior high and high school years making fun of it.  We had special names for it in my family.
I mean, the look is something of a cross between the Cone Heads and a baby volcanic eruption just waiting to burst from the unsuspecting person's head at any given moment.

All the way to work I kept thinking about how embarrassed I was that I was going to spend an entire day in public like that.  I mean, this wasn't even one of the smaller poofs.  It was the mini-volcano.  Imagine what my family would say!  (I did have some consolation knowing that at least they wouldn't see me.)

I considered everyone else.
Maybe I'll just avoid people, I thought.
(Right.  Like THAT was going to work....)

Imagine my surprise when I walked in the room and three kids said, "You're hair is different!  I like it," and "You look good!"  and "Miss Waite!  I like your hair!"

It got increasingly more strange as someone interrupted math to comment on how nice it looked.  I mean, I know they wanted to stop talking about measuring angles, but still...

And if that weren't strange enough, at least one adult said she liked it and I should do it again.

And there you have it folks.  The day I guiltily poof my hair and run out the door, ashamed to show my face in public is the day I get five (count them, FIVE!) compliments on my hair.

I'm not sure I've even gotten five compliments about the same thing in one day EVER.

This is exactly how I felt...Minus the six Grammys.

What can I say?

There are only a few options possible:
1.  These kind people saw my tired, fell-out-of-bed look, felt sorry for me and decided to compliment me to make me feel better.
2.  Living in Utah, these nice people are so used to this look that they thought it looked good.
3.  My hair actually was stunning, and I should demonstrate my Utah Pride via my hair more often.

Yep, this was me Thursday.
Without the movie star makeup, of course.
And looking like Hilary Duff...

I don't know the answer.  I mean, if Adele and Hilary Duff are pulling it off, it can't just be Utah, because they are about as Non-Utah as it gets (except for Lindsay Lohan, of course, but I'm pretty sure she's a strictly bangs kind of girl).

So, who knows?  Perhaps this is my true "hair"itage (as my friend Linsey put it), and I should just embrace the beauty of it.  It could come in handy.

After all, if the thing erupts, it would really get my kids' attention....
And, eruption or not, it kindly adds enough height to make me at least 5'2".

I think that's worth something.

Besides, if I really do look that good, I may never have to wake up early again.
And if you know me, that's worth more than the rest of it put together.