“When I retire, I’m going to grow a beard, grow my hair, and wear earrings.”  I’ve heard one, two, or all three from most people people I’ve known who retired from the Air Force.  I’ve said the same thing.  Well, I tried the beard--I look like one of those people on the ID channel you already know is a serial killer.  So I generally just wear a goatee.  I have earring holes (I have since 1994 or 1995), but I still haven’t put earrings in.  And the hair...well, Missa was against me growing the hair long, and I was agreeable to that.  But I went much longer between haircuts, and I didn’t see any reason to pay somebody to do it, since I was no longer in the military.  So Missa had cut my hair a few times, with minimal damage.  But it’s been roughly two months since the last one.

I got a wild hair up my butt (and now some down my shirt) today that I needed to get my hair cut (I was supposed to go to my orientation at the University tomorrow).  I still don’t like the idea of paying somebody else to cut it, plus there was snow outside, school had been canceled (as was my orientation, I was soon to learn), and the mailman said the roads were fairly bad.  So I asked Missa if she would cut my hair, because it was bothering me (specifically my sideburns, hair above (or not so much anymore) my ears, and on my neck. 
One problem--my wife had unplugged my trimmer, and the battery had died down.  And apparently it takes a while to charge.  We didn’t realize this until partway through the haircut, though, so she ended up stopping after one side and part of the back.

And then she got a little more...about three hours later.

And then finally I look like some synth-rock asshole 80’s reject who is just asking for an ass-kicking. 


That is what I am at now, because my wife fell asleep.  “Wake me up, and I’ll finish it,” she says.  So now I’m sitting her deciding whether to trust what is left of my follicles to somebody who’s been asleep for three hours.