After the emotionally heavy goodbye post, heres something lighter for you, but much, much heavier for me.

I always figured i’d go bald eventually, its one of lifes inevitabilities like bitter disappointment (oh no wait they’re the same) or taxes. I thought it would be a more few years, 60 to be exact, not 2 or 3. Lately when I look at photos of myself where before there was an silent enemy hiding in the shadows, day by day he becomes braver, rising and taunting me, becoming bolder as I become balder. My nemesis…scalp.

I went to get my hair cut last week. An experience made even more embarrassing by the fact that she spent more time trimming my neck hair than those rare specimens still inhabiting my head. Thats the thing. I’m over amply haired in all other areas, I’m basically a hairy little chimp/human hybrid. Everywhere but the place that I would like it. Its a sick joke, I’m someones genetic punchline.

I now feel about it like I used to feel about going to the dentist. You hate the thought of it, its humiliating when you’re there and you’re not convinced theres any need for it beyond helping put the dentists kids through school. Quitting going to the dentist was my choice, soon there will literally be no need for a visit to the hairdresser, no feet stamping act of defiance from me, oh no, it’ll be scalpy doing the victory dance this time.

I have a few options

a) kill myself
b) shave it all off now and be loud, bald and proud (Annett responded to this with “I hope you don’t think this is actually an option”, so for now its the front runner)
c) go down kicking and screaming, until cruel nature has dragged every last hair off my head - rock the comb over or other style disguises.
d) kill randomly selected “haired” men, then kill myself.

Hey its not that bad right? Everybody knows that bald men are more “verile”. Erm, yeah right, everybody knows that bald men are more GRATEFUL. Should they manage to seduce a woman into bed I’m guessing that “virility” cocktail is more like 2 parts haste, one part rustiness. I’ll confirm the recipe for you in a year.

On a lighter note (I didn’t laugh once writing that post, infact I didn’t even enjoy it and I’m very good at finding myself entertaining luckily) traveling starts in 3 weeks. Mental, I’ve read 4 pages about Vietnam so I guess the planning is done. Next step is some technicalities like buying a backpack, getting visa’s and just about everything else apart from reading 4 introductory pages on the history of Vietnam.

One week before the messy breakup that will be me and my first inhabitable love - Leipzig. And not even the option of getting a new haircut to help get over this one

I’d like to write more, but I’m depressed now and its 1:14am.

(or at least it was on Saturday when I wrote this, my mood has recovered greatly, but my hairline still remains the same)