Dream

In my Tuesday and Thursday, 2:00 to 3:15 Come to Jesus Meetin’ (i.e. English Education 591: Principles of Teaching English in Middle and Secondary School), Reverend Dr. F has told us over and over several things:

1) Her age (44).
2) That she has a wonderful husband she has been married to for twenty years
3) Her two year old daughter is wonderful and has changed her life
4) Her parents are wonderful and she still listens to them

Most importantly, though, Reverend Dr. F has explained to us how important it is to be professional during our Field Experience (i.e. Student Teaching Lite: Now with half the calories and a third less fat!). Cover up your tattoos, take our your extraneous piercings, put on make-up (she must know my mother), dress in suits (if you don’t have suits, for goodness sake, buy some, but if you can’t do that this second in time, at least look like you’re the CEO of some Fortune 500 company), and look like adults, gosh darn it, even if you’re just baby-faced college students. Our Field Experience, and even more so our Internship (i.e. Top Shelf Student Teaching), are basically continuous interviews by the high schools and middle schools we’ll be working in, and they need to like what they see from the moment you step in the door on the first day of our Field Experience. (Looks, apparently, are very important to schools, which has to be a relatively new thing, because there were quite a few of my high school teachers who were not even trying a little bit in the appearance category.)

In honor of those threats, idle or otherwise, I redyed the hot pink stripe in my hair today. It will still be bright and obnoxious Tuesday morning at 7:30 AM, when I first grace the halls of the high school I was assigned to for my Field Experience. It will be equally bright and obnoxious at the Come to Jesus Meetin’ that afternoon at 2:00, which I can only hope means a some personal Come to Jesus time with Reverend Dr. F in her office to discuss my obvious breach of The Rules (not that The Rules are official or outlined in anything that I’ve seen, although there’s a lot of stuff I haven’t seen, so they might really be carved into stone and I just choose not to find out).

While I highly doubt I’ll get kicked out of my Field Experience or *gasp* the entire education program, I can dream.

I am so counter-culture.

I have wanted to put a pink stripe in my hair roughly forever, and I have been seriously planning on doing it for a few weeks. Due to the fact I don’t live in a place that supports people dying their hair unnatural colors, I was forced to turn to Amazon for my hair dying needs. (My Arch Nemesis assures me that you can buy pink hair dye on every street corner in New York, along with hot dogs, which is one of the main reasons I should relocate.) After a million years (not an exaggeration), my hair dye arrived. 

 

You read that right, friends. Hot Hot™ Pink.

In a frenzy I tore open the box, ripped out the cute little jar, and using the hair dying kit (that arrived from Amazon weeks ago), added a very beautiful Hot Hot™ Pink stripe in my hair.

Then I took pictures.

Here I am pointing out the pink stripe, so you won’t miss it.

This is the obligatory punk rocker face. Sort of. I’m not very punk. In fact, I look a little like I’m throwing a temper tantrum.

This morning I woke up and decided the pink stripe wasn’t nearly big enough. So I did it again. I really think I missed my calling, because dying hair is a lot more fun than writing a twenty page paper. 

I’m really struck by how beautiful my hair looks in this picture, pink stripe or no. 

I’m excited about the pink hair. I’m not so excited about the twenty page paper I have lying around my in disconnected note cards I may or may not be able to use. But whatever. People with pink hair don’t care about papers or grad school.