Writing Is Hard! Argh!

There is something singularly terrifying about a blank sheet of paper (or, more relevantly a blank word doc) waiting to be filled up with clever words and brilliant ideas. It’s easy, at least for someone like me, to be totally overwhelmed every time I sit down to write. Seriously, it’s become a part of my writing process. I leave space in my brain for the inevitable freaking out and indecisiveness that I have to cycle through before I can write anything work keeping. It’s all very frustrating because I’m supposed to like writing and yet the actual process involves a lot of teeth gnashing and declarations of “I hate writing.” I’m sure many of you know the feeling: one thirty AM, trying to make a random medley of paragraphs fit together or trying to make two pesky sentences sound less clumsy. I wish writing was a simple activity with a single intended result. I like to know when I’m succeeding and when I’m failing.

My fear of writing has spawned some pretty bad habits, the worst of which is my procrastination. It makes it really hard to do a good job when I’m sitting down to write a four page paper the night before it’s due. Another of my bad writing habits is censoring myself as I write. If a word feels off or an idea seems half-baked or rings false, I simply can’t keep writing. I usually delete whatever I’ve written and leave myself some kind of reminder that I need to fill in whatever is missing. I am totally incapable of just letting go and writing without stopping. When I write I work on two or three paragraphs simultaneously, adding a sentence here, scrolling up to briefly outline an idea, typing out anything interesting I can think of to say. And I usually I find myself opening up Firefox every two or three sentences to check Facebook or my email or go in search for a better mix of writing songs, further interrupting the flow of my ideas. Between copy and pasting sentences and deleting chunks of words every couple minutes, everything seems to end up in a jumbled mess. Writing feels like a game of MadLibs—I’m always trying to fill in the blanks and hopefully achieve some kind of unity.

I probably think about writing more than most people do. I’ll share something a little personal to explain why. A couple years ago I decided that I wanted to get one fundamental thing out of my education: the ability to be a good writer. And as far as hobbies and passions go, I’ve always thought of myself as someone who loves and cares about writing as the most wonderful and important form of self-expression. I want to be able to win people’s hearts and minds with my words, there’s the embarrassing, icky truth. I want to be a great writer, and each time I sit down with a blank sheet of paper, I tell myself “this should be amazing.” It’s exhausting, but hopefully I can find a way to translate my ambition into actual, tangible productivity sometime soon.

Sometimes I Talk About My Hair

(in which I ramble about my hair, occasionally bordering on vanity but mostly just being trivial and silly)

Last summer, after months of contemplation, I finally took a leap and cut my hair short. This decision came to me one afternoon with great urgency. It sounds a little crazy, but I was overcome by such an intense need to change my appearance and remove the long strands of hair around my face and shoulders that I went into my bathroom, closed my eyes, and snipped a jagged line all around my face. Impulsiveness at its best. It looked absolutely awful, which I’d expected, but I managed to find an appointment at a salon the very next day and got it fixed. I wanted to look like Bob Dylan off the cover of Blonde on Blonde, but I ended up looking like myself, only slightly improved.

It was a good choice. Obviously I feel strongly enough about my hair to write a blog post about it. But I should clarify, my obsession with short hair is not just a cosmetic one, though I do find it extremely attractive on almost all humans. I have had hair below my shoulders for the majority of my life, so cutting it off seemed like a good change. No more would I be held back by my lackluster hair! I was a brand new woman! I was free and confident and prepared to face all my fears and achieve my dreams! Me and my haircut were kicking ass and taking names!

Just kidding.

At least, I am mostly kidding. I think changing my hair has afforded me a certain degree of confidence. I can’t imagine growing it out again—the very thought fills me with horror. For at least a year now I have been having these daydreams and sleeping dreams about chopping off all my hair. I’m sure Freud would have something to say about that, especially since this desire has only intensified since I actually cut it. I guess I’ve just come to associate short hair with personal progress, which is not really something I can explain so I’ll just have to write it off as a ridiculous impulse.

I’m thinking of cutting it again soon, actually, for practical reasons. I need to keep it off my neck and out of my face during soccer and I also need to get some more practice doing my own hair. The first time I cut my own hair was a disaster, but I’ve kept trying since I don’t have the funds to get it cut at a salon as often as I’d like and I keep getting these urges to cut it. Sometimes when I’m bored and restless, I make myself feel better by having adventures in hair cutting. There is nothing like the satisfaction of hearing that snip, and feeling a lock of hair fall away.

I could go on and on about this, but I think I’ve already run out of compelling things to say. In short (oh, a pun), short hair is awesome and feels really good on your head. I haven’t brushed my hair in months and it looks more or less normal. I urge everyone who is considering cutting their hair to give it a chance and see how lovely they feel. I think more girls out there should consider androgyny and stop wasting time combing and curling their long locks. Short hair is liberation!