Tuesday, April 25, 2006 Shorn I'm sure a much more talented writer than I would be able to make something of the fact that my hair just keeps getting shorter and shorter; a much more talented writer, or someone with more distance on the situation, I suppose. "Look at you," said the guy at Rudy's, handing me a mirror so I could see the back. "Kinda 80s back here, but then at the front, it's like when Keira Knightley cut her hair for that movie, you know?" I knew. I knew that my hair was now an 80s bounty hunter movie. But an 80s bounty hunter movie that is very easy to wash and dry. And I do love not having much hair on the back of my neck. I feel freer. Which is a nice thing to feel. Last night I nearly did a headstand in yoga; my shoulders finally figured out how to lock into position, lift my body up. It lasted for only a second, but I couldn't help a little squeal. The sense of being strong. Sometimes, I think strength can come, in part, from shedding that which weighs you down. Worries, insecurities, bad friendships. Strength can be walking away. Strength can be saying goodbye. Strength can be found in being shorn... Oh, you guys just want to talk about TV, don't you? FINE. Geeze. | permalink blog • archives • photos • about • contact This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License. All content © 2004.