(Continuation of Accurate, But Still )
“It’s Dada! It’s DADA!!!!!!! I see Dada!”
— Nora, every time she sees Charlie Brown.
Tag Archives: Hair
Kid: “Oh my gosh, your hair looks awesome! It’s so great how it’s SO short!”
Me: “Aw thanks!”
Kid: “Because, you know….your face is SO long.”
Things Bald People Don’t Understand
Me: “I don’t think I can wear my hair curly until it grows out about an inch, maybe an inch and a half.”
Eric: “So how long will that take– like, 2 years?”
The problem with being crazy is that when you do something “crazy,” everyone thinks you’ve gone crazy
And yes, I’m allowed to refer to my mental illness as crazy but no, you are not. Unless you too have a mental illness, and if so, well then, my crazy kindred, I suggest pouring yourself a specialty drink I like to call “The Crazy Kook’s Cocktail” (spoiler alert: it’s wine straight from the bottle) and enjoying the following texts because I’m sure you’ve had to have similar conversations with your loved ones, which are on the one hand extremely sweet because you know they care, but at the same time make you want to throw your wine-bottle-cocktail against a window because AREN’T I JUST ALLOWED TO BE QUIRKY WITHOUT BEING INSANE?!
For context, I have been weaning off my Prozac (with the VERY close monitoring and responsible care of my therapist) so I think everyone around me is on extra high alert. But (remarkably) I feel totally fine. Well, totally fine for ME. I have an innate baseline functioning status of “meh.”
For more context, please know that I did not just wake up this morning and arbitrarily decide to hack off my hair (although if I did, I still don’t think that’d be insane). The decision to donate my hair is one I made over 5 months ago, and I have since been growing it out, itching for the day I could finally make the cut because I was starting to look like a mermaid (the washed-up on shore, tangled in slimy bramble kind, not the Ariel-singing-on-a-rock kind). So while the “do it yourself” aspect was somewhat spontaneous, the intention to lop off almost a foot of hair had been planned for a while now.
Finally, for clarity, I don’t blame Eric for being initially alarmed. (He also wasn’t the only one– I got an immediate text from Zack, and the only reason I didn’t get one from Mom, I’m sure, is because she is golfing/mahjonging/chardonnay-ing and hasn’t seen the post yet). I know Eric’s concern comes from a place of love (and straight up alarm, because he sort of committed to a long life with me– sucka!). But it is a frustrating byproduct of mental illness that if you do something “kinda weird” while feeling good, it’s a sign you’re losing your goddamn mind.
So in the end, all is fine, espeically beause we got to remininsce about Eric’s mullet.
Also, in hidsight and in fairness, I suppose my intial presentation of the situation in that first text was confusing and alarming, but I guess I overestimated how immune Eric is to my eccentricity.
Regardless, in the future, I’d like to spend less time defending my crazy and more time enjoying the fact that what I did was kind of weird, and being weird is awesome. I feel great!
#ShorthairNOWdontcare (thanks to Jose at Aveda Salon, who actually said I did a pretty decent* home job so SUCK IT).
*He reined in the word “decent” and replaced it with “not terrible, and next time don’t” after he saw how excited I was by his compliment.
Here’s How to Take a Great Idea and Ruin It
I thought cutting off all my own hair, alone and by myself, while listening to Kesha’s “Praying” would be super therapeutic (and it was! For exactly 5 seconds), since the only other time I cut my own hair was in the middle of the night when I was 6, after which I promptly blamed my brother, so I never got to really bask in the glory of my work.
Newsflash: There is no glory. I look very very bad.
Turns out there is a reason hair dressers do this for you. One reason is that THEY KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THEY’RE DOING. Another reason is that they have a straight angle, and can therefore cut the hair evenly. As you can see in the haphazard-looking nubs above the hair bands, I did not accomplish this. It looks like someone cut my hair with a samurai sword.
The good news is that some child, through the nonprofit Children With Hair Loss, will receive a lovely 11-inch wig, which is a small price to pay for me looking like a gnome.
Now, Jose at Aveda Salon, you better hold on to your hat. Our appointment today will be more therapy than haircut.
#iwasonlysupposedtocut8inches #oops #shorthairdontcarefreakingthefuckout #shorthairDONTDOTHISATHOME (oh, you would never do this at home, because you’re smart and rational? HOW NICE FOR YOU.)
We Understand Each Other
I had my hair trial for the wedding today.
Me: “Before we begin, I think it’s important to stress again that I am a VERY sweaty person, and this MUST be taken into consideration when planning a hairdo.”
Hairstylist: “Don’t worry. I’ve done a lot of Jewish brides.”
His Optimism is His Most Endearing Quality
Eric has made the argument that because we have invested in fixing MY beauty concern (getting Invisalign to straighten my teeth), we should also be investing in HIS beauty concern. I’m not so sure of the equivalence.
Today I sent him a video of the progress my teeth are projected to make over a 16 week period.
A Little About Myself
I got a referral for a wedding hair stylist and gave her a call…
Stylist: “So tell me a little about yourself.”
Me: “I am a sweaty, frizzy-haired Jew. I have lots of anxiety. I feel prettiest when I wear my hair down, but, due to my aforementioned sweat problem, that might not be an option for the wedding. But the idea of wearing my hair up is giving me anxiety, because I never wear my hair up for special occasions. And now I’m starting to sweat just thinking about it.”
Stylist: (laughs) “Ok…”
Me: “Sorry, was that not the information you were looking for?”
Stylist: “Well most people start by telling me their name.”
Ok. I get it.
Kid (pointing to the messy bun piled on top of my head): “My mom wears her hair like that when she does laundry.”
Me: “Oh, perfect.”
Kid: “Or, like, if she’s staying in the house all day.”
Me: “Uh huh…”
Kid: “Really if she’s doing anything where other people won’t see her.”
Every time I get a haircut I think about chopping it all off and donating it to Locks Of Love, but it hardly seems like a good deed to give someone Jewish hair.
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