My Androgynous Youth

As a child, I looked, either like Macaulay Culkin (above) or Simon Birch (below). I can't decide which one is more accurate (or embarrassing).





In the fourth grade I got my hair cut. I am (and was back then) nearly legally blind, and before I got contacts, I had NO IDEA what was happening when my hair was being cut. After this particular haircut, I was given back my glasses at the end and was startled to find this monstrosity staring back at me:

Photo courtesy of Jessie, who took a picture of a picture hanging on my Grandpa's wall. It's also on display at my parents' house. My family, both immedate and extended, may be trying to torture me. I haven't decided yet.

I looked like a BOY. So much so that I was once asked to leave the bathroom at the Pizza Hut buffet. It really sullied the taste of those dessert breadsticks, let me tell you.

Maybe that's why my mom put me in a dress with a lace collar and the pearl earrings for this picture (Simon Birch in drag, anyone?). Maybe it's like when new parents stick a bow on their infant's shiny bald head to identify it as a girl.

It was the start of a very awkward adolescence. Not that I'm not still awkward, but I hope that I have better hair.