Ok, I am new to this whole concept of blogging. I was introduced to this cultural phenomena by my little sister when she posted something about the ill effects barbequed almonds have on my gastric pipes. It would appear that nothing is sacred anymore.
I was curious to read Lorien's comments about her childhood and how awful she thought she looked with years of bad haircuts combined with having to wear an orthodontic birdcage over her head. Lorien, if you happen to read this, I understand where you are coming from, but you don't know what ugly is! Compared to me, you looked like a goddess. I wore the same birdcage you did. I don't think my family was even aware I was "wired" to that degree because I would come home from school and lock myself in my bedroom before I would don the apparatus. I would remain there all night sometimes. I would quickly remove the appliance if I had to venture outside the sanctuary that was my bedroom. This was due primarily to the fear of being the brunt of a new set of ugly jokes. They always hurt more when they come from your siblings.
I was late getting braces so I had to endure all the comments that are associated with a bad smile until I was a sophomore in high school. Ever since fourth grade when my teeth decided to go on a fieldtrip, my just older brother had affectionately referred to me as "the beaver". How bad were they, you ask? Let me state this as eloquently as I can. Are you familiar with a power rake? I could have easlily given it a run for the money. I used to put my head face down on the table and rest myself upon my protruding teeth in hopes that they would take the hint and retract themselves back behind the safety of my lips.
And you speak of bad haircuts? I had my share. My mother used to cut our hair when we were children and she was pretty good at it. It was the between-cuts period that were horrific. You know the stage when your bangs get long enough to get in your eyes and you start thinking hey, how hard could it be to just grab the scissors and fix the problem. And that is just what I used to do. I would snip the longest hairs first and then check the results. Of course it always looked like someone had notched my bangs and not just trimmed them. No problem. Just even it out, right? by the time I was finished "fixing" what I had done, I looked like a Billy Ray Cyrus twin. And as luck would have it, this would always occur right around school picture day. Arg! That's when I would sheepishly ask my mother if she could fix the disaster. As a result, I had some pretty short haircuts and they never did mask what I had done.
Luckily, life goes on and we grow up - at least to some extent. My teeth have long since been reunited with their fellow brethren and I leave the hair cutting to the professionals. I don't claim to be handsome by any stretch of the imagination, but I don't feel too ashamed to be found in public places anymore. Now, maybe if I could just lose about ten pounds...
7 comments:
Welcome to the blog world, big bro. For the record, and as the always adoring and mostly picked on younger sister, I don't remember ever thinking you looked like a beaver or a power rake. I was quite proud of the way my brothers looked--all of them. (can you hear the collective "awwwwww" from the masses?) I also thought the brother just older than you was mean when we were growing up. I remember him sitting on me and tickling me as I begged him to stop until I was in tears. He's come a long way, but my kids don't always appreciate the things he thinks are "fun."
Great blog. My orthodontia experience was limited to moderately sized head-gear, but teasing was intensified because I was the first kid in my class to get braces. I thought that was bad enough until the next kid got them. He was a boy, so we both endured endless taunting about getting our braces locked together (which, at one point, I did discover really doesn't happen when you kiss someone with braces).
But in the haircut arena I had the double blessing of living through bad haircuts and bad perms. It's a good thing hair grows out of whatever bad mistakes we (or our well-intentioned mothers) made.
Hee hee! I loved the description of resting your head on the table on your teeth--I picture a sort of kickstand or something. I wish now I had a picture of my headgear I could pull out when my kids were feeling sorry for themselves.
Isn't it wonderful that we grow up? I think Hell is a junior high and the residents of Hell are stuck in eternal pubescence. I can't think of too many things that would be worse than that.
What about being stuck in pubescence while also being stuck in the vicinity of wrestling practice?
Hope I don't offend any wrestlers out there--but I was in PTA meeing at Provo High yesterday and they were talking about where to hold a certain activity of the senior lock-in. Mr. Ray said they could hold it in a certain room, but that the room doesn't smell very good because it's where the wrestling team works out. I had this vivid flashback to my own high school days and remembered that for some reason, of all the sports, wrestling smells the worst. Go figure.
Maybe it smells the worst because they're sending subtle messages to the smokers out there. ;-)
It might just stink because of sweaty boys rolling around on the floor, grabbing at each other...yet another reason I hate wrestling.
Wow, the Beav' finally makes it to the web. So proud.
Well, having been through that fine experience as well, I'd love to slap my orthodontist. The big strap on "helmet" was horrible--why do orthodontists ever think that this is no big deal or that you might actually wear this in public?
I always ended up with big wavy tracks through my hair that earned me the nickname "Deer Butt."
In the end, it was worth the ordeal of braces, but really, you should only make your kids use headgear in the summer when they can wear hats and hide from the taunts of their schoolmates.
Time for a new blog--or at least a response to your 6 comments. :-)
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