So, tomorrow it finally happens. That moment I’ve been building up for for a few months now. That moment tomorrow evening when Mother-in-Law snips until it’s all gone.
Yeah, tomorrow I go bald in the name of charity.
Right now the last thing I’m thinking of is Marie Curie Cancer Care or the Little Princesses Trust. My whole head is just taken up with the knowledge that tomorrow I won’t have hair. I hadn’t fully realised till this moment just how vain I am about my hair. Given how often I colour it I’m sure some of you are smirking about that little tidbit but I’m serious. I’ve never minded Skimble or Lexy or M-i-L taking scissors to my hair or dyeing it or whatever because I’ve always thought that if it did all go wrong then I’d just chop it off and grow it back. My looks are… see I can’t say that they’re unimportant to me because obviously I do care what I look like or else I wouldn’t paint myself up so much or play about having pink hair…but… I never really mind if it goes wrong…
I couldn’t put my finger on why, it’s the same sort of mind set that has me couldn’t carelessing about whether my socks are dirty or have holes in them, I kind of know I should but theres something in the back of my head which says it’s all so unimportant. Meh, and yet here I am tomorrow going bald and it’s all I can think about.
People keep asking me why I’m doing this and to be honest the charity, it’s not exactly an excuse because I do want to raise money for Marie Curie, but I could just go on a sponsored swim or something, only I do want to shave my head. I don’t think it’s a particularly feminist gesture on my part though I’m sure it might come off that way, shaking off the tyrannical oppression of socio-cultural assumptions etc.etc. But I just want to do it, because it’s something to do.
How do I explain that everything is just something to do without coming off maudlin or existential or angsty or whatever? We have this whole life to pass and theres a lot of things to cram in…obviously I intend to live forever but just in case I don’t I’d better do this now. I’m never going to be this young, look this good, be this unemployed (hopefully) again. So I may as well do it now. It doesn’t feel maudlin to me, it just feels like, I want to live every part of life there is even the small bits like having no hair.
For a girl who wants to be a writer I’ve not really got the knack of expressing myself in words yet.