I Wouldn't Bet On It

Sometimes I don't make the best decisions. I will be the first person to admit that.  So in February, when Paul and Michelle visited me in New Zealand, Paul made me a bet that was rather inappropriate and if I told you the details some of you would lose a lot of respect for me. Over the course of ten days, Paul and I were in this bet, half way through I had to dye my hair brown.  If I won, he would pay for my hotels for the rest of the trip so I wouldn't have to stay in hostels all the time and he would pay for my flights, first class. But if he won I wasn't allowed to dye my hair back to the original color and I would have to keep it brown for the next three years. And when I say dye my hair, I mean all of it, my eyebrows, and everything.  I bet on blonde me, he bet on brunette me.  

People do not recognize me anymore.

I lost the bet. 

Apparently brown-haired me was just better at this task than regular blonde William.  

I guess blondes don't actually have all the fun.

I don't mind brown haired William, it just seems to change my entire appearance. Which wouldn't be a problem except when I was away this year I pretty much went through puberty part two and now my voice is like a half octave lower and I am pretty sure my facial structure changed a little bit because I get a wrinkled forehead all the time now. 

I didn't mind brown-haired William until my grandmother didn't recognize me. I was like, "Oh hey, how have you been this past year G-mom?" 

And then she said, "WHO ARE YOU?" 

And then I had to try and explain to her that it was just me, the grandson that went missing for a year and she didn't really believe me and made me answer questions about myself like what my real first name was and what my mom used to call me when I was little. I think she is a bit skeptical still. 

So if your thought process was going like this before reading this post: who is this guy that William is putting pictures of on his blog? OH MY GOD ITS THAT PARISIAN GUY! William is probably dating him now. Who would have thunk that he was GAY? Well I am not THAT surprised.

To clear things up, those are pictures of me, not Adrian the guy from Paris.  I only say this because someone saw a picture and then asked me if it was Adrian and before I could say no, he was telling me how good it was for me to find someone and that he was proud of me for being open with my sexuality and that he sort of suspected it all along. It was an awkward moment.    

So now your all caught up on the physical changes of William. And if I post more singing songs, I sound different because of that whole puberty part two. 

Anyways morals to take from this story are:
1. Call your grandma when you are going through puberty so that she will still recognize you.
2. Don't lose a bet where you have to change your hair color for three years when you lose.

3. Cut people off when they are about to get your sexuality wrong.