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Katie's Blog

Day in the Life of Candy

War of the Words

July 28th, 2008

Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me.

Or so they say. But in this age of text messaging and Internet blogging, gossiping—that once-harmless pastime enjoyed by miserly spinsters on lazy afternoons over cups of tea—has ridden the wave of the future and taken a turn for the worse. Hushed speculations that used to be kept within the confines of sets of friends are now widely publicized fodder for everyone. And in this viral age, you don’t have to be a celebrity to be gossiped about on the Internet. It could happen to anyone, as it happened to me.

The worst thing about it is that it is so public. When before, the gossipee could live her whole life not knowing that everyone thought she was a (insert derogatory comment here), now it’s broadcasted for the whole world, and even the gossipee, to see. That the population thinks you’re fat/nerdy/uncool/unpretty could all just be a click of a mouse away. The second worst thing about it is that it is so permanent. At least in the past, gossip, however terrible, was just passed from mouth to ear to mouth to ear. Now, if you’re branded on the Internet, you’re branded for life. Your only hope would be that the blogger or forum-administrator—who comfortably hides under a pseudonym—would delete the entry entirely. Then again, if he/she was malicious enough to namecall or start a rumor about you in the first place, it would be foolish to expect any concessions from that person that would reverse the damage done.

And so you try and do what you can but there aren’t a lot of options. You can ignore it, with no effect; or you can try and fight back, in vain. The most you can do, really, is blog about the truth yourself but you must understand that the one who draws first blood calls the shots. She has the shock factor on her side while your feeble attempts are easily misconstrued as damage control—a way to make the sordid claims a little less embarrassing, a lot more palatable.

I don’t know. They say it’s good that all this technology gives power to the people. But sometimes you wonder if this is the kind of power that the people know how to wield in the first place.

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Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

May 19th, 2008

I’ve had long(ish) hair for as long as I can remember. Whether layered or one-length or updated with bangs, it’s always been below my shoulder. My long hair is simply part of who I am. So you can imagine my hesitation when I visited one of the top stylists in the city and he said, unflinchingly, “Sweetie, it’s time for a change.”

I tried to put up a fight, I really did. But he’s one of those people who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Seemingly fed up with my thinly-veiled misgivings, he finally said he’d leave me alone for a minute to think about it. The one-two punch was delivered when his assistant seized this opportunity to pull me aside and said, “Darling, he’s not just any stylist. He’s an artiste (emphasis on the e). Mess with his creativity and he’ll mess with your hair.”

Defeated at last, I pretended to read the magazine in front of me but I was all-too-aware of the snip-snip-snipping away near my nape. Scissors have never been that close to that part of my neck ever. With sickening unease, I realized he was aiming for chin length. The last time my hair was that short was in third grade.

For the next week or so, my every waking thought was how much I missed my long, straight, black hair. But then I remembered that I’m one of those girls who looked forward to makeover day on America’s Next Top Model and rolled their eyes at girls who cried like they were dying when their hair’s chopped off. I thought “That’s just hair, it’ll grow back.” Admittedly, not all of Tyra’s makeovers are phenomenal, some are truly disastrous and some models are better off with pre-makeover hair. But what separated the true winners from the sore losers is that the former embraced the change, never mind that it made them look more like a guy and less like a model. The winners worked with it and never complained. Or if they did, they never showed it.

I don’t hate or love my hair, I can only say that it’s different. But you know what they say about faking it until you make it? I have decided to own it until I grow it.

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