Sunday afternoon I went out with J. We visited a restaurant bar in Capitola where we enjoyed drinks and appetizers along with a fantastic view of tourists, sunbathers and ocean. The drinks were good. Music was nice. Sun was glorious and no smokey air for the first time in about 8 days. The fires are finally out.
After a couple hours of talking, drinking and food critiquing, we sauntered further into the tiny town of Capitola. In our stupor, we got this idea to ask people what they thought of my hair style? J. and I had been talking about long hair vs short hair. At first she was embarrassed at the idea of random-stranger-chat though she warmed up quickly. Whereas I can be out in public and ask just about anyone anything. I *do* have boundaries though I have been known to engage total strangers in conversation when necessary.
While on our walk to the bar, I stopped one man and asked him what he thought of my hair? He said, "You look hot...your hair is fantastic. Don't grow it long." Slightly inebriated, I thanked him, asking him his age? He was (only) 42 years old - cute, looked like he was twelve. My son Danny was on speaker on my cell, screaming "get his number!"
We ended this glorious afternoon with a walk to the Fogbank, a dive bar with outdoor seating right on the water. Loud music was playing when we first walked in. Two women were dancing to some early 90s music. The music was great. The sun on the back deck was revitalizing (providing tons of vitamin D and cancer causing rays). Most of the action was on that sun deck, people laughing, talking, singing, reading and smoking. We both felt at home. J. said her husband wouldn't want her there. (Too seedy.) I am the only one who might object for me. And who am I to object to seed?
We'd asked a few people on our walk what they thought of the hairstyle, and then once inside the bar, we asked everyone on the sun deck -- all those drunk women and drinking men. Each person we spoke with was outgoing, positive and willingly gave an opinion. (imagine that!?) I don't know about when you are drunk but these drunks were really considerate and friendly. I felt like I instantly gained more support. The overwhelming consensus was that I not grow my hair out, with a few "f*ck Us" thrown in for good measure.
I was pretty sure based on conversation with him in the past, that Chris had wanted me to grow my hair back after chemo. J. kept saying "guys are so visual." My argument is if a guy is attracted to me because of my hair, isn't that like the height of shallow? (is that really even an argument?) Do I need a man in my life that bad? What if I only like bald men? Should I ask a man to shave his head?) Since chemo, I'm really comfortable with short hair. Most men seem to like long hair (living in a fantasy world) or do they? Do all men like long hair or just the man I felt I loved? And does long hair on a 53 year old woman really look all that good? I'm still wrinkling and chubby. There's nothing pretty about a skeleton with long hair (I'm not quite skeletal). With dieting, the flesh that seems to be evaporating from my face sits comfortably inside my bra now. Soon that flesh will be melting into my pants, and then, take up final residence in my shoes (sandals?). I swear when I die, they're gonna need a bucket, (is that why they call it a bucket list?) not a coffin. Is having long hair going to make up for the
flaws gifts of aging?
Earlier that same morning I attended Weight Watchers "church" and dropped another 2 lbs. That makes my weight-loss 29.2 pounds since the end of chemo March 17, 2008. (I believe in losing weight slowly, ya think?) It's funny still that the weight has come off effortlessly since Chris left. When my husband died, I weighed a ton (!) and started losing weight pretty soon afterward. It's some sort of subconscious thing -- when there is no one to help, to pick me up if I fall, to support me, I move into my survivor mode. I gear up by losing weight, exercising, eating (even) better, and taking really good care of myself. Maybe it's to show me that I can do this life thing all by myself. (I can have any kind of hair I want!) Ultimately, when you're ready for your bucket, you'll have to go it alone even if you've been in a lifelong partnership. Better to be maximumly prepared. And who better to take the credit?