Caught In The Act?

I do embarrassing things all of the time. Most recently, I was performing at a festival with a Bollywood cardio dance group and I kept tripping on my harem pants. I caught my foot in the billowy fullness gathered at the ankle at least 3 times! And every time - especially the last, as it was the most pronounced - I envisioned going ALL. THE. WAY. I'm talking massive wipeout where I'm not going down alone. Oh no, I'm in the back row at this point and if I'm falling, it's forwards so I'm taking friends with me.

Secretly, I wished it had happened and my caught foot ended up taking out a fifth of the performers on stage. I nearly bursted out  laughing, mid-dance at the thought. Though I'm sure this mirth was highly elevated by my amusement of a completely horrendous second dance.

But back to falling. Think about it, how funny would it be to witness a dancer trip and fall, taking out fellow dancers on her way down?!

It'd be amazing! I would LOVE to see that!! I can just imagine how my cheeks would be hurting from laughing so much. And the days of pleasure to follow after, calling up giggles simply at the thought (and of course subsequent mental replays of the event).

Sometimes it really sucks to do embarrassing things. They can make you feel shy, nervous, stupid, etc. Luckily for me though, those feelings are less common - at least for more than a second. More commonly, I hope that when I have an embarrassing moment I'm caught in the act. If I know that I would enjoy seeing the same situation happen to someone else, then it's seems like a waste if no one can get enjoyment out of my embarrassment.

As the saying goes: What goes around, comes around. So why not will the coming and going of humor and cheer? It's ultimately for the greater good, after all . . .

An Heir Hair

What is this? 

A duo of threads? 

Line for a fishing rod?

Maybe for some. For me, it is proof of an heir. Or perhaps more appropriate, an heir hair.

It's been discussed in my family that all of the daughters have fine, golden-hued, silky tresses, while our mom's was more coarse and dark. I can still vividly recall as we aged, the exclamation of my older sisters as they each found their respective first coarse hairs.

"It is so thick!"

'Where did this come from?!'

I'm no stranger to coarse stragglers on my ol' noggin, however, while washing my hair the other day I discovered the most curious thing. My Heir Hair. This was not just a random coarse hair in a forest of strands. This was proof of the metamorphosis itself. A hair transformation caught in the act, if you will. A complete transformation of not only girth, but hue as well.

Behold, my tangible destiny! And caught in the midst of puberty, no doubt.

Let's take a look again at the photos from the beginning of the story again.

Now zoom out and see . . . . . . 

They are connected. 

It is one single strand of hair. WHOA! That's crazy. And also quite impressive and cool. Just think, if it weren't for my disgusting hairballs I stick on the walk of the shower to avoid clogging the drain, I would have missed it entirely!