Tales of Shampoo: Soliloquy, or A Woman's Pride
by Rob Barba

I sit here, looking into the window,
Watching the fog clear off the city.
It's morning, and yet, my mind is towards a place
Still shrouded in the dusk of night.

Funny, I didn't think I would think of it anymore.
I didn't think I could, would wax nostalgic about
A place where I no longer belong.
My life is here, now.
My boyfriend's here, my best friends are here, I have
Close friends living south of me.

And yet I still think of the place I once called home.
A remote village, a town nestled in faraway mountains
Remote as remote could ever be.
So far removed from civilization it is a whispered legend.
Yet that was my home.

Or was it, really?
Thinking about it, life was simpler, and yet, so different.
No shapeshifting,
No Japanese fiance,
No thoughts of moving to another country, lest the other side
Of the world.

But here I am, over a decade later,
Much more content.
Much more at peace with myself.
Much more an American woman than an Amazon girl.
Much more whole, somehow.

I turn away from the window, and look at my mirror.
A decade more, and the wrinkles will come.
My violet hair will turn grey, maybe white 
Like my great-grandmother's did.
Maybe I'll be married.  Maybe I'll have children.
But I know one thing:

The Lao Shan Fu that lived ten years ago, led a simpler life
Than the Shampoo I am now.
The Lao Shan Fu that I am now may lead a more peaceful life
Than the Shampoo I will become.
But as I've gotten older, my joy has increased because my 
boundaries have, making me a more complete person.

I walk away from my mirror, decide to go downstairs and cook
A few egss for my and my pals.
The world's outside my door, beckoning me to come to it, to live With it, to understand it...
...and I'll answer it's challenge with a woman's pride.