Being a Boy

Growing up with three brothers meant I was not the girliest girl in the world. My mum would dress me in frilly pink dresses but I'd still rather slide down the slope in the garden covered in mud.

When my hair was getting just long enough to look a bit more like a girl in a dress than a boy in a dress, my mum was relieved. But one day I managed to reach the door handle, sneak into her bedroom and get scissors out of the drawer. I then cut big chunks of my hair so I was left with massive patches, of generally short, but some nice strands of long hair.

My mum literally used to shout at me to put a hat on every time the doorbell went.

Wig on a Tree

Last year I cut my hair really short and I really loved it. But anyone who has known me for more than five minutes knows that I cannot stand having the same hair style for more than a few weeks which makes things a bit awkward when your hair is a few inches long... I thought about extensions, but my hair was too short, I considered  keeping it short (but it had already been months) or patiently growing it out. In the end I went into a shop in Middlesbrough that claimed to have every option for your hair. Naturally, I was weeing myself with excitement.

So, as the short orc-ish looking lady sat me down and whipped out a long head of hair and put it on my head I could not resist. I hadn't had hair that long since I was about eight. My mother sighed as I pranced out of the shop with a wig in my bag.

But all was not perfect. After a few weeks of enjoying having both long and short hair instantly, I went to Covent Garden to go holiday shopping with my boyfriend. I was specifically looking for bikinis, and they definitely look better with long hair... so especially with my boy short hair and three tattoos on show, I could have done with looking  more straight. MISTAKE.

I left the shop. I walked too close to a tree with low hanging branches. The wig got caught on the branch in the middle of Covent Garden. It was literally HANGING on a tree. My boyfriend stood and laughed, giving no attempt to help me. The most humiliating moment ever. There was so many people.

Needless to say, I now wear extensions and avoid trees and bushes at all cost.

Photographic Evidence

I went to Kuredu Island in the Maldives last summer and it was gorgeous. The whole place was perfect, but I'm not going to go on about that, because you can just google the Maldives and see how awesome it looks. Instead, I feel that its more important to discuss my worst nightmare which literally STALKED me, watching my every move and waiting for the opportune moment to chase me into unwanted places and do unwanted things.

This terrible happening occurred more than five times. I like to think my memory blocked the last few times because it was so horrific. My brother, Richard, was with me during one sighting, and I'm not sure who screamed the highest or loudest. But it was most probably Richard.

The worst occasion, however, was when I was walking with my mum down one of the beautiful clear beaches. My mum did not even flinch when we saw it. She would let a WASP sit down and have a lie down on her ARM though, so that's not saying much. But I saw it from a mile away. It saw me from across the whole bloody island, I am not exaggerating it literally always knew where I was. And it looked at me, and CHASED me for about ten terrifying minutes down the beach, I was screaming and begging for mercy. People came out of the beach huts to watch but no one even attempted to help. My dear mother instead had tears of laughter and took a photograph. I nearly DROWNED trying to escape it. Eventually it let me go, satisfied that I had had the worst experience of my life. Not that it was the last time I saw it. But it was definitely the most horrific.

Excuse the great fat arse on the photograph, but you try looking hot in a bikini running for your life from a disgusting beast.