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Hair on the fringes

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My jet black hair introduced me to Kim. It was a chance, desperate meeting, but one that began a two-year relationship. I followed her everywhere until it became impossible to continue. Kim would become one in a series of relationships that started out promising but left me abandoned. I met her on a Sunday afternoon. My "it costs a little more, but you're worth it" color job cost me a helluva lot more. My $10 bottle of Fonzie-black hair was appalling and it was unfeasible I would go to work on Monday looking like I did. I drove to the mall and gingerly travailed the distance from the parking lot to the second level for the Regis Salon . All my hair was pushed up under a cap. I had called ahead so Kim was waiting for me. Two hours later and $150 poorer, Kim had faded my hair back to the chestnut brown that I had originally sought. Afterwards, I was smitten and devoted to Kim. Three haircuts and two hair colors into our blossoming hair affair, Kim announced she was...
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Dracula and the Jehovah's Witness

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Blood dripped from "Dracula's" nose just as the Jehovah’s Witness handed him a Bible. It wasn't planned; it was a spontaneous reaction to dry air, but the timing couldn't have had more meaning. A crew-cut clean shaven Ambassador for God knocked randomly on the door of a brick ranch-style house. Standing at the open door was a black eye-lined, black dyed haired 15-year-old boy wearing a silk screened Slip Knot t-shirt. By appearances, it would seem obvious who came to teach whom on the proper way to be. But underneath the façade of EMO (the teenaged boy) and wholesomeness (the J ehovah’s Witness ) lies the common desire to connect with others in meaningful ways. The tool each of them uses differs only in superficialities. The message each of them is trying to convey is the same. Many misconceptions have arisen among proper adults about the psychopathy behind teens who flock to EMO choices like black birds on an electric wire. As a subcult...
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Right into the ditch

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Up until a few weeks ago, I was working full-time and busy finishing up my master's in mental health counseling. It's break neck speed with no room for error or complications. And when you're a working mom, then your kids work just as hard as you in maintaining a schedule of school and day care.  Then, one day, the car veered into the ditch and that's where it's stayed. The event that forced the car (me) off the road was my son Danny and his lack of enthusiasm for all-day pre-school. But as a back story, you all should know it hasn't been just the past few weeks that have been break neck speed, it's been the entire year. My schedule was foisted on me by life circumstances of keeping up with my mother who, until a few months ago, lived in Iowa recovering from a broken femur. This unexpected health issue added a layer of responsibility to my already laden plate of full-time mother, wife, employee, and student--not to mention the dozens of volunteer commi...
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