Ninja hair disguise.

I had a tarot reading gig recently in Canyon Woods in Tagaytay. It was for an Oktoberfest celebration and the organizers chose a carnival-like theme for this year.

We came there early and was lounging around the club house while the other performers where doing their sound check. To pass the time, I did some tarot readings for some of the organizers.

One of them, Edith, saw me after we just had our lunch. I was walking around and decided to undo my bun, letting my hair down.

“But you had short hair earlier!” she said, mildly surprised.

Yay! I can bun my hair using a hair chopstick again! Chopstick manbun, here I go.

A photo posted by Jade Tamboon (@antifornicator) on

It’s not an uncommon reaction. Tied neatly, I can keep my hair in a small man bun, typically tied behind my head. It also isn’t too obvious how curly my hair actually is.

Untied, my hair expands and occupies more volume, like a time-lapsed explosion. Even now, it looks like a Jewfro when I let it down.

When I was applying for a visa for India a few months back, the woman who handled my application asked me if I had a more recent photo; I told her the photo I submitted was taken just a week earlier.

My photo looked as if I had closely cropped hair because my bun isn’t visible. She saw I had one in real life because I tied the bun higher than usual on that day. So I untied my hair and made a bun lower, hidden behind my head, to prove that it was a recent photo.

I find it amusing how tying or untying my hair is enough to drastically alter my appearance. It makes me feel like I could turn myself into some kind of super-spy.

Really, I’m almost always near broke and I could use a change in jobs but all I could think of right now is my hair.

I’m at that point when I’m asking myself:
Should I cut my hair short?
Should I keep the afro?
Should I grow my hair longer?
Should have my hair made into dreadlocks?
Should I have it straightened?

It's sunny in Baguio

Biking in Burnham

It’s a little weird and somewhat funny how hair is such a big deal for me, considering how much effort it takes to maintain the damn thing.

Dead cells, that’s what they are. Dead cells in strands falling all over the apartment and clogging the shower drain. Think of the money I’ll save from not buying conditioner.

Hah. The hollow attempt to convince myself to let go of my hair isn’t even an original shtick anymore, who am I kidding?

Let’s play spot the difference: Bern and Jade.

Red Alert: Bern and me

During dinner, before we headed to Conspiracy for Red Alert.

Should I decide to change jobs, I could always be a hairdresser.

Neighbor Markee, over lunch, said wanted to have his hair cut; Leo, Bern both pointed at me and suggested that I cut his hair instead. I’ve given Leo a haircut before, and he was pleased with how that came out so he was able to convince Markee to be my next victim. I mean client.

Markee wanted to have his hair with the sides shaved, leaving only the crown hair intact. This is Markee before the haircut:

Markee: Before

After minutes of shaving and trimming, here is the result:

Markee: After

Markee is actually the fifth person I’ve cut hair for. Sixth, if I include myself I had alopecia. That was extra-challenging: I used to shave all of my hair using an electric razor without looking at a mirror, merely feeling my way around my head.

Here are the other victims clients:

The Juna
The Juna

Notice how they all seem to have the same hair? That’s because I only know some variations of a mohawk or doing a complete skinhead.

Bern already asked me to style his hair to a Sokka-haircut once it grows longer. I guess I’ll have me another victim soon.