Bangs bangs: sounds like a fringe issue

Low Bun with Bangs

The earrings? Maybe not. But J-Garner nearly has the hair I'm going for. Not really. But kind of.

Today I bring to you a dramatic reading from Army Regulation 670 – 1, The Wear and Appearance of Army Uniforms and Insignia.


  1. Females will ensure their hair is neatly groomed, that the length and bulk of the hair are not excessive, and that the hair does not present a ragged, unkempt, or extreme appearance.
  2. Hair will not fall over the eyebrows or extend below the bottom edge of the collar at any time during normal activity or when standing in formation.
  3. When headgear is worn, the hair will not extend below the bottom edge of the front of the headgear, nor will it extend below the bottom edge of the collar.

Once upon a time, I came to Princeton with Bangs. I loved Bangs but Bangs didn’t seem to get along well with my necessary friend, Bobby the Pin. Bobby could be a bit weak at times–a bit of a flake if you know what I mean. Sometimes he would just leave Bangs hanging. At that point Bangs was tired of the hassle and uncertainty and decided to grow out of that relationship, rejoining the rest of my hair.

Bobby Pin

Bobby, you're annoying.

But I missed my Bangs, and I think my Bangs missed me. A few weeks ago I took a leap (well, the hair stylist did) and I welcomed Bangs back into my life.

This time around, things will be different. I’ve done my reading and realized I don’t have to have Bobby on speed dial anymore. As long as I keep Bangs lookin’ clean and above my eyebrows, there is no reason why Bangs can’t chill naturally without fearing ol’ Bobby coming around. I just have to sweep Bangs away up under my headgear when headgear is necessary. A little under-cover excitement, if you will.


The knowledge of torch

I have to say, it’s fabulous to be back.

Returning to the Battalion as an MS 2, I’ve discovered how great it feels to know stuff.

To know, for example, that the female bathroom on the second floor of the armory is so rarely used that brown gunk sometimes comes out of the soap dispenser. (Well, I’m assuming it’s rarely used, but a bathroom’s a bathroom, especially when another bathroom is busy).

To know that new equipment looks cooler, but my equipment actually works…because it has since Vietnam.

To know that when my favorite janitor doesn’t say “hi” the way he normally does, its not because he’s having a bad day, but because he thinks I’m someone else when I’m in uniform and is confused as to how I know his name.

To know not to expect my book stipend to be in my mailbox, but to check anyway, just in case.

Some things I don’t know?  The names of all the new cadets. I try to learn them, I really do, but too often my eyes start desperately roving around for backup–a birthmark in the shape of a similar-sounding animal? nope. A non-regulation, very boring but also very useful tattoo? nope. And on their chest only a naked strip of velcro. Its times like these when I say a prayer for that prisoner somewhere whose job it is to machine-embroider on a nametape the tricky, probably hyphenated word of obscure origin that I cannot recall. Be swift and speedy, my friend, for all our sakes.

It’s alright, though; the newbies will forgive me. I certainly wasn’t fussed about being re-christened “hey” for a few weeks last year. I was too busy trying to learn all the things that now I consider second nature. Like what exactly to say to make each/one of my classmates want to murder me:

Other MS 2: “So at Air Assault, ___________[insert anecdote demonstrating difficulty and/or frustration and using at least one frighteningly large number of reps]____________.

Me: “Hey, so did you get paid over the summer?”

Other MS 2: “What!?! You got paid? I spent my summer crawling around in the heat doing overhead arm claps…(fades into incomprehensible grumbling)”

Me: “Oh yeah, what was that thing you did? What was it, again? I’m sorry, I forgot.”

Coming soon: Ranger Challenge! Push-ups! Room-clearing! Mud! Grenades! Blog posts that don’t make me sound like a complete jerk!

I’m stuck on you, velcro

Despite all the velcro, this was not a pile that wanted to stay together. And yes, I get dressed for PT before I go to sleep. Shut up.

We got back from JFTX Sunday evening, and I finally picked up all my laundry from the laundry room…which had turned into a battlefield.   Seeing every single uniform I have sprawled about on the counters finally made me grateful that this isn’t one of those schools that charges us to use the machines.

On this note, I just found out that next year I will have a smaller room (ugh), but it will be a single this time so I won’t have to feel bad  about claiming both of the square feet of floor space that my roommate and I share this year.  When I’m organized and on top of things (this is rare), so is my gear– I have to relegate it to the top of my closet, so getting it down before lab is a bunch of shenanigans.

Oddly enough, insufficient storage space has given my room permanent mood lighting...because one of my lights is covered.

Also, note to self: stop trying to ride your bike to the Armory with full ruck, LBE, sleep system and duffel bag.  It does not work very well.  And the security guard always looks at you funny.

Stay posted for an “after action report” about the JFTX.  I’m still folding at this point.