On being bald.

As promised earlier, I am now going to recant the story of how I started shaving my head. It should be stated that while I didn't have a whole head of hair, I was thinning up top, my main complaint was all the grey hairs that were very, very prevalent once I started wearing my hair short. Anyways, I know you were all on pins and needles waiting for this, so let's just jump right in and set the way-back machine to early July, 2002.

[insert time-travelling special effect here]

So, my roommate and I have just moved into our wonderful apartment, I've just finished finals, and I'm enjoying the first free time I've had in what feels like ages. I'm also suffering from the just-moved-in-to-a-new-place budget crunch that inevitably happens. My roommate, a friend, and I decide to go out bowling for the evening, because the bowling is cheap and the drinks are cheaper. The woman I am seeing is going to join us later on, once her babysitter has arrived. So, we bowl. And we drink. And I'm constantly complaining about how I haven't had time to get my hair cut for almost two months(at the time I had a hairstyle that required frequent trims, at least once every 5 or 6 weeks), and I couldn't stand how bad my hair looked. The woman I was seeing said "well, I could cut it for you."

Of all the dumb, drunken things I've done, this isn't one I regret very much, although at the time, I wasn't terribly happy. We got home probably about 12:30 or so, and I ran into the bathroom. I grabbed my beard and mustache trimmer, handed it to her, and said, "let's go." It was at this point she learned that it wasn't advisable to cut hair drunk, especially since she wasn't a professional. Things seemed to be going fine, but every little mistake made my hair shorter and shorter. Eventually, I was left with my entire head full of hair down to a 2-blade. M was apologizing profusely, thinking that she had done something so dreadful that I didn't want to see her anymore. I was happy about it, not thrilled, but I knew that it would grow back in time. We went to bed(I'll be skipping those details, if you don't mind), and she had to leave early, so when I woke up the next morning, I was nude and suddenly without much hair. I looked in the mirror the first time and thought that I looked pretty good, so I kept it. It took a couple weeks of getting used to, not to mention that I had to spend more time getting ready in the morning, but I have no complaints.

Now, of course, I have the whole thing down to a science, and it takes me about 5 minutes(usually less) to shave my entire face and head. When people ask why, I tell them that I've found a way to beat mother nature: you can't be balding or greying if you shave it all off.

Maybe next week I'll tell the story of how my second tattoo came to be.