I've had long hair since I was six and my mother issued some kind of biblical decree that I could not cut it. I tested this rule at sixteen and though I wasn't blinded and no coliseums fell on me, I did suffer the serious wrath of Cathy Anderson. So, for almost a quarter century, I have been employing different techniques to keep my hair out of my way. If you want to accomplish anything in life, I have discovered that while you need personal drive and a good marketing team, you also need your hair pulled back.
Hollywood likes to bend the truth for sales, and this isn't the first or last time this pet peeve will bug me. At least Lara Croft, Tomb Raider, is realistically representing women the world over.
Pet peeves wouldn't be nearly so annoying if they didn't mock you in your everyday life. Last week, Steller Air had its most successful day yet: 6 whole flights. While my personal record is 31 flights in one day, that wasn't in my own plane, and not on floats, and not desperately wishing that this small attempt at a small business is going to work. To get six flights in when you are
piloting, office managing, fueling, taking phone calls and loading it feels like 65. Halfway through my 3rd flight, my hair tie broke. I landed, jumped down on the float, loaded gear into the floats with my hair in my eyes and mouth. I helped my passengers into climb into the plane intermittently ripping strands of my hair out of the velcro on my raincoat. Ow.I closed the doors, pulled up my waders, got in the water and leaned on the bows of the floats. I blew the hair out of my eyes after inhaling for a big shove to push the plane off the gravel. I looked around at pine trees and mountains, I breathed in the scent of Alaskan summer: pine, dirt, moss, and damp cinnamon. I was thigh-deep in a cold lake, surrounded by wilderness with my wet hands on the float of my plane. I looked up past the prop at the sky, letting my hair fall out of my face, and thanked God. Even without a hair tie, this still feels like kicking ass.
