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It ainít easy being indian
Tuesday, March 12 2013
 
Written by by Ricey Wild,
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Four years ago this past month I chopped my hair off with rusty scissors and the result was horribly hilarious. I wrote that I looked like Kim Jong-Il, a now decomposed dictator whom I thought was haunting my mirror beady eyes and all. Thatís one thing. I did it with full knowledge that I canít even cut coupons evenly but I hacked up my own hair. Eventually it grew out but I was vainly aware that my head is too big and round to pull off short, short hair styles.
Fast forward to now, my last hair trim was cute, angled under my chins and shorter in back. Well, as hair has the tendency to do it grew longer but added some odd little curls I never had before and didnít know what to do with. Yes, this world is on a crazy train going off the tracks, and I get so tired and depressed about it that I have to yell ďSTOP!Ē soís I donít completely lose my mind for good. Thus, I focused on my hair cuz well, no one else will, right?
† In past columns Iíve written about my super-long Indian woman hair that I kept for most of my life. It was so simple to care for; shampoo, rinse, condition, rinse, braid it up and the next day unravel the braids for fresh curly locks. Sexy! Women envied my hair. A teenage girl on a #5 bus put a lighter to my braids and would have burnt my hair badly but luckily it was still damp. That was the extreme, the rest who hated on my hair satisfied themselves by merely trying to pull it out.
Sigh! I miss those days. Not the hair-hating part from others but the simplicity of my coiffure; up, down, big hair, smooth hair, natural. I am now getting to my point: distressed (geddit?!) because my do was doing nothing I decided to have it cut by a professional. Short soís I could have a fresh look and not have to bother with too many products, hot styling devices and effort. Additionally, cuz of my injuries I canít even whup my hair up like I used to, so I wanted a wash-n-go-n-gel-n-spray style while I grow it out Ė or until my next Hair-Gate.
Anywayz, as you may have discerned by now I called up WTFZ Radio Auction and bought a discount certificate for the local Kost Klippers. Hey! What could go wrong? Wait. I mean WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?????
So when a guy was available to cut my hair I was actually pleased. Gays plz forgive me for stereotyping but yooz know how to cut some savagely awesome hair styles. I sat down in complete confidence until I smelt his pits. Ew. I should have run away cuz I would have had a chance but I'm nice, too nice, and thought well, he said heís on his second wife I should give him a fair, heterosexual chance.
Initially he gave me the classically awful olderish woman style #2 which is nondescript, neither she nor he Ė genderless really. I was supposed to Ďlikeí it and be on my way. Hai!!! Instead I told him to shorten my do. Now a hank of hair is sticking out ridiculously and I look like I hired an evil, drunken Nun from an Indian boarding school (child prison) to chop my hair up. I havenít looked this bad, according to me, since I had the ďpixieĒ cut in 1st grade.
The obvious solution to my dilemma is to grow some more hair. Simple. But itís a slow process as all we hair-growers know. I do have a hairpiece from back then but I think my head grew some and itís a tight fit. Now Iím thinking of styling a Mohawk sans Day-Glo colors. Then if I was to be taken seriously Iíd have to get all tatted up, plus piercings too! Ho-Lay! All carried away, ennit? All that is too painful and permanent for me, plus I donít wanna scare my grandchildren when I get some with wrinkly, saggy ink art and have shiny objects for them to pull on.
Okay for real though, I have to get my hair cut again! OMG.
First off I want to thank yooz for hanging with me for this long about a subject that matters not at all except for a good chuckle at my appearance. I have many scars that are proof that I overcame what tried to hurt me and I wear them proudly for that reason. So I ask myself how can a really horrible haircut hurt me? I wonít allow it to, thatís what.
†† Itís like my Unk Gene always used to say: itís not hair that makes the Indian; itís the Indian that makes the hair. Heehee!

Users' Comments (2)
Posted by Shelly Diaz, on 20-03-2013 17:52,
1. Community Member
Hey Ricey, I sure feel your pain and anguish!!! I also THOUGHT (forgive my stereotyping) that my male stylist would have given me a BOMB 'do! Oh, was I wrong! I saw him in December, and I haven't got my hair cut since, and I wasn't even in mourning! I kinda like it now that its grown out to where it was before, but the ends are screaming to be trimmed! Good thing WE are both 'snagable' no matter what 'do we are sportin'! LOVE your column lady!
 
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Posted by MJ Madrid, on 15-03-2013 16:31,
2. Hi Ricey!
Here is something to think about. Horse meat in the UK. Everyone seems to be freaking out that they may have eaten horse meat. The N'Dee (the Apache) would just as soon eat a horse as ride it. As the Apache were mountain warriors we often hid where horses couldn't go. Also, the roughest terrain in New Mexico and Arizona didn't always provide enough food so horses filled in as a food source. 
 
We were not as reliant on the horse as the plains Indians, but we made good use of it in many ways. I'm anxious to see if Londoners start turning darker and wearing feathers.
 
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