Hairlessness is strange

Today I had the nice lady who cuts my hair shave it all off.

While it would be nice to believe that I wasn't going to lose my hair at all (and it certainly looked all strong and springy), certain signs from regions other than my head are warning me that the lossage has begun. So, she gave me a wiffle, which feels really strange. Girls almost never have cuts like this, and I had no idea that hair was so firmly directional in its growth. And family legend is correct -- I do have two birthmarks above and behind my right ear. I can't see them, but confirmed that they were their. The lady with the clippers referred to them as "raspberries," so they are not large.

I don't look as bad as I thought I was going to, which is a relief. The eyes looking at me in the mirror are still mine, and with a headscarf on I look like something out of Bruegel. Or a Pirate Queen. Or both!

Since we had a warm and humid day, the cooling and evaporative functions of hair were immediately apparent by their absence. But, I will adjust. I think I will be more comfortable, though, when the hair finally does fall out and I don't have to deal with all these prickles.

I wish phrenology were still a science. Then I could Bare All for Science by simply removing my hat.

Honestly, I was a little distressed thinking that I might become distressed. And it is a bit distressing. A very ashes-to-ashes moment, seeing all one's hair on the floor like that.

"Behold your servant, Lord, a sheep of your own sheering."