About a boy: part two

Another slow day in the emergency department.

Thirty minutes before my shift was scheduled to end, we finally got a patient. As the poor woman is retching and suffering from vertigo, I quickly become aware that there is a man staring at me. I glance at him, at his EMS clothing and go back to assisting the woman.

We're in small room, there's not a whole lot of people save the patient, her friend, the nurse, me and....this weird bearded guy who is obviously keeping an eye on me.

Wait.

Blue dickies. White polo shirt. Student badge.

Return of the EMT student. (If you're confused, read my post from 09/25/10)



In my mind, this is all I could see

Except he has a beard. And I don't mean a beard, because most beards are okay in my book. What I mean is a BEARD. Like a "I haven't shaved in two decades" beard. As in "I can grow massive facial hair" beard. As in "whoa, I don't even recognize you" beard. If he were a fugitive on the run, it's a safe bet he'd get away with the crime.

In between our patient lying on the bed, shaking and retching and all sorts of glorious things, he oh so carefully says "hey how are ya?" and puts his hand on my back to "get around me", but really folks, there was no reason for touching my back unless.....he was trying to give me that dumb boy/girl thing of "I am aware of your existence but am trying to not show it too much"

All I can see though is his beard.

Let's just say.....it made it pretty easy to not make a fool out of myself this time. We conversed for a bit, had a nice chat about how we've been (pretty strange catching up with a virtual stranger), but he did ask me:
"Did you lighten your hair? It looks really nice"

Thanks to that beard, there was no more tachycardia, no more feeling flummoxed, no more blunders.

I win.

:)

Only human

How I look today. Right now. Spitting image of a man, yes?

Take a look at the above picture. Do I look to you that I might perhaps be a man? A boy? A guy?

I did two things today that I do not often do. I wore my glasses and pulled my hair back into a bun. I know it's not the most attractive thing for a young woman to do, but hey, I was only going out to study and run a few errands, not go on a photo shoot.

Walking into the post office, an elderly but spry man holds the door open for me, I thank him and he says:

"Sneak right in there. That's what you're supposed to do for girls."


*pause*


"You are a girl, aren't you?"

Whoa. Thoughts? Comments? Anyone?

Blondes have more fun



Before



After



I used to be a brunette. Earlier this summer, I highlighted my hair for the first time ever, and the result was mostly brunette with some blonde. Then late September, I decided to get a "few more highlights" and my stylist, on a crazy hair coloring spree decided to make my once dark brown locks just about all blonde. Initially, I was NOT pleased. No, in fact I was this close to dying my hair back to my original color. But, being that I had just spent a reasonable amount of money on my hair, I decided to ride it out, and see what happens.



                        

A month ago, before I "re-dyed" my hair, a classmate from my biology approached me looking confused and asked "Have you been here the entire time?" 'Entire time' meaning, "have you been in this class the whole month it's been in session?" Confirmation enough that I was quite un-noticeable to the general public. I'm not one to make a scene in class anyway; all I do is go to class to learn and leave with my noggin full of knowledge.

Fast forward, I get my hair re-done and I feel like the world's biggest idiot. I'm nothing short of hating my hair and feeling terribly self conscious, as if I am prone to the entire world noticing, pointing, staring and mocking me. (My imagination runs deep)

Going to class, the girls that I usually study with say nothing. In fact, no one in class says...anything. Sweet relief! Maybe it's not that noticeable! 

Except the following week, the classmate who was not even aware of my existence shyly approaches me, looks at me and right before he speaks I internally freak out wondering what sort of comment he'll make. Instead, he says:

"I just....I just wanted you to know that I really like your highlights. I just didn't say anything because I thought you'd think that I was weird"

Aww.

And then earlier this week, as our class is doing a science experiment, Mr. Biology approaches me again, with the same look on his face. He asks me what my group is doing, I tell him and he says "know what my group is talking about?" I inquire and giggling he says "Lesbians!!!"

*SILENCE*

And then today....

Mr. Biology approaches me after class and says "what's your name?" We make introductions, with him initially giving me a fake name. We begin walking down the hall together and he asks:

"Are you yourself?"

(Folks, I am proud to announce that indeed, I am myself!!!!)

He quickly rephrases his question and asks "Are you married?"

After I respond with "no" he then proceeds to ask me if he can "walk me to the nearest exit"

I accept, and we get to talking. He asks me if I'm ready for our upcoming Biology exam. I respond with the typical "no way" response.

He says "well.....the people I sit next to in the back dared me to ask you to study with me"

(Let's pause here, for just a moment. Are we teenagers again, or are we in our twenties? I remember hearing about dares and what not when I was much, much younger. But here? Now? In 2010?)

Giggling, he makes his way through the conversation.

Sensing his nervousness, I take advantage and ask him what made him speak to me in the first place. First he looks around. Then he looks down at the ground and then at long last he says "I think you're really cute. And I really like your hair. The first time I saw it, I was like 'wow'. But I also like looking at your face. And I really like looking at the back of your head. You have a nice back of your head. (He sits waaaay behind me in class)

As our conversation progresses, he asks me where I was born. I respond and ask him the same. He tells me a story about how he was born in his living room with....bridesmaids all around assisting in the birth.

Bridesmaids?

He corrects himself with the term "midwives", yet as he shares the story of his birth, he continues to revert back to the term bridesmaids.

I tell him I have a friend who is studying to be a midwife. I explain how part of their training is that they get to "see births". As I go on in my explanation I realize that he is giving me a blank stare. And why is this, you may ask? He thought I was talking about "sea births" Sea, as in the ocean.

All in all, it provided a comical conversation as we talked about muffins, people watching, hiking, studying, Biology, nursing school, the arts and of course, bridesmaids....err midwives.

As he left, he told me looks forward to Monday and to "seeing my head"

I think I like being a blonde.