first of two

i used to wrestle.

i started in seventh grade. everybody remembers seventh grade, nobody, i'm fairly certain remembers it very fondly. my experience wasn't all that different, there were some things about that year that were totally badass, and plenty of other things; like wrestling, i didn't win a single match that year; that totally sucked. the thing about seventh grade though, is that you're not really smart enough, or independent or whatever enough to care how you wear your hair.

well, you know what happens as time passes, you get older and you transform from a clueless and totally awkward twelve year old to a dopey and only slightly less awkward fourteen year old. i wasn't any different. one of the things that i thought was really cool was that i could grow my hair long. this had extra appeal mostly because my dad was a really straight-laced, clean-cut type who i'm fairly certain wasn't a huge fan of the shag on my head.

so back to wrestling, it's one of those sports where they care how long your hair is, like there were a few times i'd show up for weigh-ins and the referee would decide my hair was too long and shaggy to wrestle and i'd have to get it cut before i left the locker room. and then there was the fact that my coach didn't seem to like it either, and he'd cut it himself. the big deal was sophomore year, my first year to qualify to state, team policy was that every first-time qualifier had to get their head buzzed. i didn't really like it, but it was state and i didn't have much choice, so i went along.

had i had more of a choice i suspect i would have gone along anyway.

feeling: dopey
thinking of: kicking back
music: "missle toe" pspazz