My first semester of college I didn't own a hair brush. I was an ardent subscriber to the school of thought that professed beauty lie somewhere between well-coiffed and au-natural (really, really au-natural).
But last night, after searching my apartment (gorilla style) for the one hairbrush I own--because the thing that concerned me most about the impending blind date was how my hair looked--I knew that I had come away from school with so much more than a BFA. And that I was that much closer to becoming my mother.