Friday, October 3, 2008

Me And My Pop

I have no hair. Prior to my hairdresser cutting it off at the roots today (now yesterday) - my hair had started falling out. In handfuls, when I washed, brushed or touched my hair.

At thirty-one, the prospect of 'no hair', is not as cool as you think it is at nineteen. Trust me.

At the same time as my hair started to drop - my scalp also decided to de-camp, but at a slightly more alarming rate, (which, I must admit, had me pretty much enthralled). It's one of those: "Oh-that's-so-gross! Show me again...", things that inspired many a ga-ga moment in front of the mirror, poking, pulling and prodding. Further down my face, I have developed a large hack at the corner of my mouth which was momentarily preempted by my lips falling off. Right now, I can only think of... The Fly, especially that spectacularly grim scene where Jeff Goldblum, looks in his bathroom mirror as one by one all his features fall off. I think he kept his - I on the other hand, decided against keeping mine.

At this point, I have no-idea if any of these unscheduled departures are as a result of my immune system vanishing because of the generous side effects of my current medication, or just the simple after effects of being generally, (and normally) "run down". Or it could just be leprosy.

So, after wearing my turban for the last few days, I went to the hairdressers today and had it (the hair) all cropped off. It is now an inch long. All over. I don't know if it was the falling hair or my falling self-image that prompted, what used to be an almost weekly occurrence of such drastic action. Newly buzzed, I realised how much I hid under my straggly hair-cape. Somedays it was almost neat in its grown-out bob, but mainly... not. I tried being Bob Girl - I tried being Messy, Backcombed Hair, piled-up-on-top-of-my-Head Girl, but it wasn't happening. I wasn't feeling The Love for those girlies and sitting here, I wonder if newly naked (and exposed) me, will be any more welcome?

At least the bits that fall from today will be much shorter, and look less like something out of The Ring, when they circle my drain.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Bickety Back, Peek Through The Crack - III

Sing: "I just want your money honey - I don't want your lo-oooove..." Just kidding. But after a day spent avoiding yet more: "I am who I say I am" conversations, I was wondering when it all started and as if by magic, found this postie-post: Saturday, August 30, 2008 - 11:36PM