The end of August has represented not just the changing of seasons, no matter the temperature, but definitive time period of when I left childhood and entered my young adult years.
We idealize our youth to a degree, but some moments remain pure to the instant they were lived. I rode in the back seat behind my friend, Matt, who was driving his mom's red beretta. We were driving down Ridge Road East at night with the windows down. The season had met that point where the nights could no longer hold onto the warmth of the day, and the wind rushing through the window buffeted my face and twisted my long hair into a chunky mess. I dipped my hand out of the window into the heavy, cool air that tugged at me, as if to pull me from the car while "Desire" by U2 jangled at a frenetic volume.
Cutting to the Scene with the Pixie
Ten years ago, I decided to do one of the most drastic things I had ever done to my hair. I went from a long style (below collarbone) to a p...
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