No matter how hard I try, how long I wait, I will never be able to properly grow a full beard anytime soon. I have a decent 5 o’clock shadow, it creeps up on you after a day or two of no shaving. However, the longer I let my facial hair grow, the less decent it appears. After a week or no shaving, all I have is staggered stubbles in different areas of patches. In fact, on the left side of my fact just to the left of my chin, I have a completely bald spot. It just doesn’t grow hair.

Right now I’m wearing a 6 day old beard. I’ll probably end up shaving it later today or tomorrow but am somewhat hesitant. I just started taking some medication which has made my skin sensitive and it’s a little more broken out and swollen than usual. Having this beard is a unattractive but appropriate distraction from my red and acne filled face.

I actually enjoy growing out my hair sometimes. Not just my beard, but my head hair too. I’ve been through many different changes in hairstyles since junior high. I was never satisfied with my hair or I would get bored with it. I don’t like the normal combover that many conservative people wear; it just doesn’t fit my personality or the way I feel about myself. I’ve always desired something a little more edgier, often to the dismay of either family or friends.

I think the most radical haircut I ever had was my junior and senior years in high school. It was then that I had bangs. And they were long. Eventually, they became so long that it hung as low as my chest. The rest of my hair was usually shaven and I would push my bangs back across my head, velcroed by the shaven stubbles on the rest of my hair.

During my 5th year of college, I decided to let my hair grow out completely. After 5 months of growth, my bangs were down to my eyes and the rest of my hair covered my ears and neck. It was very Beatles-esque and I loved it. I tried once again, unsuccessfully, to do this in 2004. My hair does not like humidity.

The fascination with my haircuts will probably continue into the future and I’m sure someday I’ll get bored enough once again to grow my hair out. But right now, it’s all about the corporate, California style, white-boy-just-out-of-bed look.

I turn 27 on Sunday.

27 feels like 19. You’re not yet 20, but you’re past 18. 27 means I’m not yet 30 but I’m farther from 25.

26 has been rather bland. 25 was excellent. 24 was ok. 23 rocked. and 22 was not very fun.

I expect 28 to be better than 27, but it’s very possible that the end of 27 will be huge for me.

I think the best and worst year I ever went through was 19. It started out absolutely amazingly. It ended rather sour and depressing. Still, best summer ever.

I wonder where I’ll be at 30? I hope I don’t have to know for 3 more years. . .

Oh wait.
I guess I won’t.

But, as I close 26, I wonder what 27 has to bring to me. I don’t expect too much for the first three quarters of 27, but I’m expecting huge things for the last quarter.

I’m over half way to 50.

I’m also mostly to 40.

. . . I’m getting old.