Short Hair Blues

Recently, in spite of my better judgment, i have cut my hair extremely short. As one lovely friend pointed out, it has hit lesbian mother territory, and possibly the point of no return. It’s taken me a little bit of getting used to. For example, i absolutely could not look at myself in the mirror for at least the first week without tears welling up in my eyes.

Dramatic i know, but true. A woman’s hair is very important, and when it’s not flowing down surrounding your face in feminine mystique, it’s a little unnerving! As Jack Donaghy says, “Lemon, everybody knows that your hair is your head suit”

As i was wandering around town, sitting on the metro, doing all those normal things, all i could think about was if everyone was wondering whether i was a lesbian. or, whether people were just looking at me thinking er, what has occurred on top of her head?

But this was just the first week. Okay, first 2 weeks.

It’s been a month now, and i have to say, i am LOVING short hair! It’s true what they say that i may never go back! While it seems that i am missing a certain aspect of femininity, there is a huge element of liberation in the feeling of the icy wind on the back of your neck.

I got all dressed up to go out last night, finally feeling at one with my head, no longer feeling like an angry lesbian with 3 kids, and more like a lovely bohemian artist pixie.

I was standing at the bar ordering drinks with a friend, and a guy standing behind us tried to get our attention. I thought, god, why was i worried all this time, my hair is fine, and it’s still attracting all these dudes anyway, there was never a problem!

Even though we were speaking French, this guy behind us, head reaching about breast level, interrupts, and the conversation goes something like this

Him: “er, er ixcooooooose mi, er, you are zee iiiiiinnglish speaking?”

Me: “Oui”

Him: “Er, er, you arrrre waiting for zee service?

Me: “Oui”

Him: “Okay”

My friend and i looked at each other and rolled our eyes, communicating the the same thought of, “really, this 4 foot high dwarf with a square head is trying to pick us up? Mwhaaahahahaha”

But then i felt another tap on my shoulder –

Him: “Er, iixcuuuse me, ello. Uh, i wanted to say somefing also, i wanted to tell you that you are viiiry oggly”

Me: “Pardon?”

Him: “Oui c’est ca, i find you viiry viiry OGGLY!”

Me: WTF!!

Ouch. It kinda hurt i gotta say, and while i think a little unfounded, i may had temporarily gone back to avoiding mirrors for a couple of days!!